៹ sypnosis 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 following the events of your pool party gone wrong, you have been in thrown into the depths of confusion as your step brother has been ignoring you after catching you sleeping with his best friend. having no clue what is happening, your parents planned a retreat to straighten things out. leaving you no choice but to spend a summer retreat with two guys you are infatuated with.
៹ pairings 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 step brother!soobin x fem!reader x step brother's best friend!beomgyu
៹ genre 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 dead dove! smut with almost no plot. gist of unrequited love. (step) brother's best friend. non!idol au.
៹ warnings 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 detailed explicit content. multiple sex scenes. dom!soogyu + sub!reader. heavy themes of stepcest & exhibitionism. threesome. vouyerism. p in v. unprotected sex. public sex. oral (f and m rec). masturbation. face sitting. riding. dual penetration. some slurs. lots of petnames. overstimulation. multiple orgasm. fingering. nipple play. humping. dirty, dirty talk (mostly beomgyu).
៹ word count 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 11400+ (this is not proofread, pls don't judge)
IT HAS BEEN TWO WEEKS SINCE YOUR STEP BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND MESSED YOUR SUPPOSED TO BE PERFECT SUMMER. And, it has also been two weeks since that same step brother caught your just-got-fucked state after his best friend took your virginity. Between those days, you didn't hear anything from anyone. Not even to Beomgyu, who is the one who managed to bring you home after Soobin left you in that room with him.
Which is weird, considering what he just said after the door opened that day. But it is much weirder that you are still thinking about it until now.
Speaking of Soobin, he has been weirdly distancing himself from you. No more morning banters, or late night messages of “are you up?” before walking towards the nearest 24/7 store. Making you feel like you are at fault for hopping on his best friend's dick when clearly your sex life has nothing to do with him. It baffles you at most. Just like that one moment when your whole family is out for dinner and he asks his father to pass the salt when you are still using it.
You didn't know that he could be this petty. To the point that even your parents interrogate you if you have done something to your step brother for him to act like that. Of course, there is no way you could hand them a proper answer—not when you are also left with dozens of questions why he, out of all people, is ignoring you like he is allergic to your presence.
And of course, Beomgyu. The last thing you heard from him is when you overheard Soobin talking to his dad about the league he is playing on the TV. His father asked if he is playing with his friend who is a chatterbox, for which Soobin replied that he and that friend haven't been talking much these days.
Assuming that he is referring to Beomgyu, it made you more confused and left-out. You want to think that this must be the reason why he hasn't contacted you after that party incident. Because it is uncomfortable for him and Soobin that he is dicking you down when you are his step sibling. But then again, it will all come down to what Soobin had said the moment he saw you and Beomgyu sharing a bed together, with hints of sex clinging in the air.
You couldn't wait for me?
It doesn't make sense. His attitude now compared from the way he treated you before doesn't align and it is driving you nuts. Whatever’s going between you and Beomgyu doesn't help either. Hell, even your girly crush on him puts you in a deep state of doubt.
Was it all a one-time thing to him? Does he go into an after sex clarity after you two got caught by his best friend that happens to be your older step brother? It spirals your mind out of control.
Another problem is, being stuck in one place with Soobin makes you feel like you are in a prison. Your parents even feel like they are walking on eggshells whenever you two are around. So, in order to straighten things out, the best solution that they could think of is going on a family retreat.
Which is why you are now under the morning sunlight, arms crossed in your chest as you watch your step father load all the things and baggage in the trunk. You were the one helping him ever since Soobin was nowhere to be found after he was tasked to buy some chips and soda to serve as snacks in the cabin.
Your mom even asked you to text the guy since you are scheduled to leave an hour from now. For which you did, breaking your no-contact streak with him after two weeks. You could never say no to your mother—that is why this whole fiasco started anyway. Still, it would break her heart if their efforts on reconciling their children go to waste.
06:30 | Aa Soobin
mom is looking for you.
get back home.
don’t ruin this for them.
read.
That was twenty-five minutes ago. And until now, your hell-of-a-kind step brother is still missing in action. Your step father just finished packing up, now starting the car while your mother is still trying to reach Soobin. She just hit another dead end when you saw two familiar figures walking towards your garage.
It was step brother, and beside him is a person that you could loathe from afar—Beomgyu, with a stuffed bag pack hanging on his shoulder.
“Oh Soobin, thank heavens!” Your mom exclaimed, walking towards the two men who took turns in giving her a warm hug. “Sorry I took some time, I wanted to bring Gyu along with us.” He announced, not even giving you a single glance like your opinion about the matter is not important.
“Well, I hope you all don't mind. Soobin said that it is an outdoor retreat,” Beomgyu's deep, raspy voice felt unfamiliar yet eerily satisfying to your ears. It might be hard to admit, but his effects on your body haven't moderated, not even one bit. “You all know that’s my speciality.” He grinned, finding it easy to get along with your parents.
You unconsciously roll your eyes, impatiently tapping your fingers in your arms as you watch them share some giggles and adore Beomgyu's chitchats while you all soak in the sun’s early heatwave. It is obvious that they do not mind, they wholly consider that guy as their second son. Finally remembering her daughter, your mom turned to you, her hands still resting on Beomgyu's shoulder.
“You ready to go, dear?” Your mom gently asked, sweetly smiling as she helped Beomgyu put his bag into the trunk. “Sure,” You sounded too airy, clearing your throat after realizing that your voice got wobbly. “I mean, sure. Let's go.”
Silently repenting for being too affected by his presence, you quickly went to grab the car's handle but Soobin suddenly went to the other side. There he goes again. He was really testing your sanity, and you could tell that it was all on purpose. That man knew how much you loved the window seat. And now, you have to talk to the guy you want to thoroughly ignore just to make sure that you would secure the other side.
Which you failed to do so, not when your mom already gestured to you to make space so Beomgyu could enter. Leaving you stuck in between these two men who really sit like you doesn't exist in their perspective.
“All good to go?” Your step father asked, and Beomgyu gave an exaggerated thumbs up. Squirming at your position, you could not help but subtly glare at the guy on your left.
This retreat will surely not end on a good note.
THE RIDE TO YOUR PARENT’S CABIN WAS SUSPICIOUSLY QUIET. Your mom was napping in the front seat, while your step father was listening to the morning radio as he drove calmly. Soobin, who was sitting on your right, also had his eyes closed. Head closely tipping into your shoulder the moment he dozed off.
The peaceful ambiance inside the car also made you dozy, but you couldn't possibly stay still when Beomgyu's fingers kept on brushing on your thigh. He was on his wired earphones, listening to God knows what with his eyes glued in the scenery outside. Yet, it doesn't change the fact that his fingertips glaze on your skin ever since your mom and Soobin went unconscious, giving you goosebumps every single time.
As much as you want to ignore it, your eyes flew in shock when his warm palm fully rested itself on your flesh. Your head instantly swaying to check if Soobin was awake on your other side before you squint your eyes at Beomgyu. The beat of your heart ran fast, thighs instinctively closing themselves shut as you tried to remove his hand on it. Yet, he remained persistent, even grasping on it tighter.
If you were confused before the ride started, you are now deeply and intently mystified. Because why is he touching you under no permission when he clearly disregarded your overall being for the whole two weeks.
Running out of patience, you gently tugged his earphones to catch his attention. “What are you doing?” Beomgyu faced you with a smirk on his lips, casually removing the earphones he was wearing to solely focus on you. “Yes? You are cold?” Your brows creased at his random response, caught off guard with how tender his voice is.
“What? No—”
“It’s okay, you could borrow my jacket.”
A wrinkle formed in your forehead at his out of context replies, watching him take off his jacket while you are still comprehending his words. You knew he was teasing you, pissing you off even. This is one of the oldest tricks he has that you have learned by watching him from afar.
But the question is why? Why is he doing this when he disappeared in your lives for two weeks after that thing happened in the party? Is he really trying to drive you crazy?
Soon, you found his jacket on your lap, covering your lower body that left you utterly puzzled. Cautiously, you observe your surroundings if anyone has seen your whole interaction with Beomgyu but they are still in their previous positions. With Soobin now leaning too closely to rest his head on your shoulder.
Being in a limited space, you decided that you would just confront Beomgyu later on to avoid any drama before the retreat even starts. However, the man on your left can't really keep his hands on himself. Once again feeling his palm roam into your thigh under his jacket.
For then you realized what those replies meant. He is being a sneaky motherfucker.
“Gyu,” You tried to warn him, minimizing your voice as you knew that your step father can still hear your banters. Your hands also crept under the jacket, trying to unlatch his palm into your flesh but his hold on your thigh was way too firm.
“Stop moving,” His low whisper tingles your nerves, anxiety starting to swarm in your chest as you try to maintain calm. “You don't want them to notice us, right?” He then uttered, fingers slowly creeping up your inner thighs. You were about to move away from him when Soobin's sleeping head finally landed on your shoulder, locking you on that spot.
The position the three of you have in the backseat leaves you in deep contradiction. It is not that you didn't miss Beomgyu's touch, or his presence in total. Because even if you deny it or claim that you despise his sudden self-insert in your retreat, you have missed this—him, so much. But, you are also aware that this is not the appropriate place for his needs. Not when you two could be exposed with one harsh break and you have his best friend sleeping directly on your shoulder.
Still, you tried to remove his tempting touch on your body. But before you could even move, his fingers have already found their way to your covered cunt, turning your mind completely blank. You flinched at the contact, immediately checking Soobin to see if his sleep got disturbed at your sudden action. Your lips are in a thin line, compressing the soft sounds trying to escape you as Beomgyu continues to rub his finger on the soft fabrics of your shorts.
You cannot think straight, mind intently focused on your panties are getting damped with how his fingers played with your pussy. The hands that were trying to stop him were now gripping his wrist, nails digging into his skin for support. Beomgyu smugly turned his eyes back on the window, his index finger swiftly swaying enough fabrics of your shorts alongside your panties just to rub your pussy bare.
A soft gasp left you when you felt his rough fingertips glazed into your wet clit, lips trembling when you felt him toyed with your sticky slick. Your eyes went tightly shut when Beomgyu scattered your essence in your pussy lips, hips gradually rocking to meet his every thrust. It almost made the jacket that is covering your lap to slip out, and to your luck, you were still able to catch its hem.
Beomgyu looked at you in panic, yet it doesn't take long when a cunning smile is plastered on his lips. “Careful,” He mumbled in your ear, a finger now poking your aching hole. “They might finally see how dirty you are, sunshine.” His words added more burning sensation into your core, breathing going unstable at the delicate movement of his fingers around your entrance.
Your mind went hazy when you heard the same nickname he gave you before, pussy clenching into nothing. You tugged your lips hard when you felt one of his fingers enter your walls, back arching within the seat. Clutching his jacket tighter, you tried to fight every urge to let any whine escape your throat. Gritting your teeth, you gave Beomgyu a solemn look as a silent plea—but even yourself is not sure if you want him to move his finger away or to beg him to go faster.
“Shit, Gyu…” You breathlessly whispered, feeling your cunt leaking juices into the leather seat at every jerk of his finger. He just gave you a smirk, his finger wiggling inside your walls that made you abruptly moan. In shock, you coughed loudly as a cover up, sweats now gliding on your forehead.
Glancing at the rearview mirror, you had a short eye contact with your step father before he brought his eyes back on the road. “You good with the temperature, kid?” He casually asked, however small whines kept erupting from your throat, especially now that Beomgyu added another finger inside your aching pussy. “Uhm-hmm!” You gave him a quick nod, gulping when you subtly hear a soft squelch from your wetness.
“Not too cold? How ‘bout you, Beomguy?” The older man fixed his mirror before he gave Beomgyu a brief glance. “Never better, sir!” Beomgyu cheerfully replied, both fingers curling deep inside your walls—leaving you restless on your seat with half of your brain barely remembering that you could wake up your step brother who is sleeping soundly on the other side.
Your hips began to chase his fingers, with one of your palms instinctively flying to cover your face. Forcing your head down, you held onto the jacket harder, chest heaving with Beomgyu’s slow and torturing thrust. You are silently cursing him in your mind, because how can he have a decent conversation with your step father while his fingers are deeply seated in your walls like it is nothing?
“Speaking of cold, we’ll stop over in a bit, we need to buy some ice.”
“It would be my pleasure to help, given that I just invited myself here!”
“That's what I love to hear,” The low chuckles of your step dad filled the car, with Beomgyu laughing with him. You could hardly bear the heavy weight hanging on your abdomen, but there is no way you would cum on the backseat and let your essence fill the room's atmosphere.
You tried to conceal every whine to a short cough, but you suddenly choked when his finger hit that spongy spot in your walls. A loud squeal came from you, loud enough for your step father to hit the breaks and for Beomgyu to panic and retreat his fingers. Soobin suddenly sat straight up as his eyes fluttered open, utterly shocked at your shriek.
“Are you okay?” Beomgyu slurry asked, playing it cool while he discreetly wipes his finger into his handkerchief. You glared at him, sighing as you adjusted your position in the backseat. The uncomfortable mess between your thighs made you wince, internally praying that none of them notice anything.
“Yeah, kid. What was that?” Your step father butted in, turning his head to check the situation. The worst part is, you could feel Soobin’s burning looks at your side. So, you pulled Beomgyu’s jacket on your lap to hide any signs of the indecency you were doing while he was asleep.
“Nothing,” Your tone grew small, still unable to gather your breath, “I hit my toe in mom’s seat.”
The man in front huffed as he laughed at your excuse. You felt sorry for lying to your step father, but there is no better excuse for what really happened. Timidly fixing the hem of your shorts under the jacket before giving Beomgyu a short glance, only to see that he was already watching your every move with a cunning smile on his face.
He is really making it hard for you to forget who he is to you.
FLUSHED CHEEKS, SWOLLEN LIPS, AND AN AWARD-WORTHY SWEATING FACE. That is how you looked in front of the mirror. You just finished cleaning up yourself, even shuddering at the sight of your soiled panties with what Beomgyu did to you. He offered his jacket before you went into the cranked-up bathroom of a gas station, which was indeed helpful to hide the big wet patch in the fabrics of your shorts.
Leaning into the sink, you mindlessly washed your hands, still in the moment of what happened in the backseat. This doesn’t answer why he—they choose to ignore you, if ever, it even made you more puzzled on what the hell is going on in their minds. Soobin is still not talking to you, but you have that gut feeling that he is aware of what happened. Beomgyu and his blabbermouth are the worst combinations of all time.
You took a shallow exhale before you opened the door, only to find the man in your thoughts waiting for you outside. Soobin was leaning on the wall, his attention swiftly going from his phone to your stunned figure. His eyes roamed into your body, scoffing to himself when he noticed you were still wearing Beomgyu’s jacket.
“What took you so long?” His tone is laced with annoyance, catching you off-guard. “Sorry?” You replied, not knowing how to act around him. This is the first time in two weeks that you two have interacted with talking included, of course you cannot just treat him with no indifference.
“They are in the convenience store,” Soobin chirped, lazily walking to your back. He placed his large palms on your shoulder, making you violently flinch from how strange it feels. You heard a soft hum behind you, before your step brother began to exert enough force to make you walk. “I was tasked to fetch you.”
The position you two are in probably look dumb, but you couldn't care less. What your mind focuses on is the fact that Soobin was once again acknowledging you, and actually touching you, too. And, you cannot deny that him controlling your body has altered some thoughts in your mind. More so, his hands on your shoulders brought electrifying feelings on your tensed body. Your heart is at rapid beat, shoving away those luscious ideas about last two weeks ago.
It was just Soobin, for Christ's sake.
Beomgyu was laughing with your parents when you two arrived, hands busy with the ice cooler that they probably bought. They were about to head out of the store, making you realize how much time you spent inside the bathroom. Soobin then stood beside you, getting their attention. Beomgyu’s brows creased when he saw you two standing side to side. Clearing his throat before he made a fake smile.
“So, where should I place this bigass cooler?” He spoke, with his eyes still on you and Soobin. Your mother giggled at his use of words, “That's the thing, the trunk is already full.” Her words were followed by silence, but then, the three of them suddenly turned to you. Clueless about what they are trying to imply, you raised both of your hands to surrender.
Your mother gave you a sweet smile, walking towards you before lowering down your arms. “Honey, you don't mind sitting on your brother's lap, right?” Your cheeks heat up at her question, instantly looking up to Soobin who looks completely unbothered about what is happening.
“Don't worry, we will arrive in thirty minutes,” Your step dad backed up, his arms wrapping around your mom’s waist. “We just need a place for the ice cooler.” He continued, which made you take a second look at the thing Beomgyu was carrying. It is indeed big—even wider than your frame.
“Well,” You tried to form an excuse, not wanting to turn this thing between you three more awkward than it is. “Can, I don't know, Beomgyu? Can Beomgyu sit on his best friend’s lap instead?"
Beomgyu obnoxiously chuckled at your suggestion, turning to your parents to offer his. “Or she can sit on my—”
His suggestion was cutted off when Soobin huffed beside you, scratching his brow in annoyance. “No one will hold the ice cooler during the ride,” He reasoned out, now staring at your embarrassed state like he is studying your reaction. “It won’t hurt a fly, come on.” Your head tilted in pure confusion, jaw dropping on the floor as you watched them head on the car one by one without seeking any further solution.
Your step brother left the door open on his side, waiting for you to enter after he assisted Beomgyu in placing the cooler between them. If you could turn the sighs you made this morning alone to cash, you probably earned enough to book a ticket far away from these two. With a grumpy face, you tentatively entered the vehicle, carefully placing yourself on Soobin's lap.
Goosebumps filled your body when you promptly felt his crotch on the plush of your ass, instinctively adjusting your position to sit on his thighs. You turned to make sure if he is still okay, but Soobin already had his eyes on the road. Then, your gaze catched Beomgyu, who was analyzing your position from head to toe with one arm wrapped around the container beside him. His eyes are dark and unreadable, even rolling back at his best friend before plugging back his earphones.
As much as you hate it, you return your attention to Soobin, “Are you comfortable?” You questioned, holding on the headrest of the seat in-front of you to maintain your balance. He replied with a short nod, his whole attention laid on the view outside. Thus, you were taken aback when his arm wrapped around your waist to pull you close.
“Soobin,” You called his name in shock, frail body melting into his warmth. In a beat, his heavy bulge brushed behind you, making you sit up straight. Truthfully, you are having a hard time squirming above him while he is firmly gripping your body. Soobin hummed as a response, one hand now resting on your thigh.
Your heart heaps abnormally at his small gesture, blinking at him as you continue to fidget on his lap, still unsatisfied with how you are placed between his legs. “Are you really comfortable?” He then shifts his attention to you, deadpanning as if you do not have the rights to question him of some sort. “You gained some weight, but it's alright.” You scoffed at his answer, causing a small tug of smile formed into his lips.
Harsh rebuttal hangs on your lips when the car goes into a hump, making you leap and abruptly drop your whole weight into the man below you. A loud groan came from him, his hold on your flesh getting tighter.
“The hell, dad?” He exclaimed, fixing your position above him to make sure it won't occur again. In this way, you are now perfectly seated on the shape of his length, which made your over-sensitive pussy throb. “Sorry, son. Didn't notice the bump,” The older man said, putting up his sunglasses to get a clear view of the road.
The way you could feel yourself getting riled up by sitting on your step brother's cock shot a straight pang of guilt into your chest. You knew that this must be viewed with no malice—you two are step siblings in the first place. Plus, he was just trying to help the whole family in this situation; nothing more, nothing less.
But still, it is getting impossible for you to just set aside those obscene ideas about Soobin, especially now that he has grown into someone that you could barely recognize. And, no matter how annoying he could be, Beomgyu was right about that day when you were looking for Soobin.
You indeed like your step brother that way.
Maybe that is why you have formed a deep attraction to Beomgyu ever since Soobin introduced him to your family. Because he is the closest available person that resembles what your heart and mind truly yearns for—your step brother.
Falling into deep thought, your body began to move on its own accords. You tugged your lips as you slowly grind your hips on his length, once again praying that no one pays attention to what you were doing. Deep inside of you knew that you shouldn't be doing this, but this might be the last time you could get this close to him.
Soobin shifted in his seat, clearing his throat before you felt his chest leaning on to your back. “Can you stay still?” He sternly whispered in your ear, making your pulse pace rapidly. You glanced at him, heedfully humping on his undeniably huge bulge. His grasp on your waist grew firmer, almost squishing your flesh as you could feel his cock pulsating below you.
“I am not doing anything,” You mumbled, voice barely above whisper to keep the conversation between you. He smirked at your weak defense, his hand on your thigh swiping upwards, separating them by force. “Really?” Your step brother taunts, leaving your whole system to shiver.
The man behind you even rested his chin on your shoulder, bringing his face closer to yours. “I can literally feel how wet you are in my shorts.” He gritted, earning a soft gasp from you as your walls clenched on air. You gave everyone a brief glance before you pressed your ass harder on his bulge.
It is too late to back out now, anyway.
You could feel how his throat grumbles on your shoulder, with his breaths getting heavier. Cautiously, you gave your hips a gentle twist, humping into his thick cock deliciously. Your grip into the seat tightens, lips parted at how his bulge continues to rub your aching pussy.
His hand helped in giving you pleasure, fingers now creeping inside Beomgyu's jacket just to reach your clothed pussy. A light chuckle came from him when he realized how wet your shorts and panties are, smugly looking at you while also checking the other people in the car.
After seeing they are still busy at their own businesses, he leaned in directly to your ear. “Is this what happens when you get ignored for two weeks, hm?” He sneered, one finger now brushing on your panties in up and down motion. “You turn into a slut who's eager for my attention?” The tone of his voice tickles something in your brain, making you mindlessly nod at his words.
Your ears are burning from anxiety while his finger swiftly torture your covered clit, putting you back on the situation you are in almost an hour ago. Him and his best friend—who was still hugging the cooler with his eyes closed—really do think alike. It's no wonder why they flock together.
“Bin—” Soft whimpers came from you when he began to draw small circles on your pussy, head throwing back on his shoulder as the pleasure became unbearable. “Shhh,” Soobin's eyes remained on the surroundings, while his hips also started to rock itself in your back. “Quiet, you do not want to ruin dad's daily radio session, right?” You were stunned at his reminder, swallowing down the delicate moans that kept rumbling on your throat.
The slow, circular movement became frantic, clumsy motions, pushing you into the edge of his lap. One hand even flew to cover your mouth, coughing loudly just to conceal those slip-up whimpers. You could feel the sweet build-up in your pent-up abdomen when the car went into a halt.
“We’re here!”
You momentarily sat up straight, the palm covering your mouth shooing Soobin's sneaky hand to compose yourself. After taking a deep exhale, you gave him a glance. His eyes are sharp and deep, evidently irritated at the interruption his father has made. Your sex thumped at the sight of him, unable to maintain eye contact with how intense his looks are.
Thus, your attention went to the other side—where you saw Beomgyu. Who was once again already staring at you. He was wearing his familiar smug face that you now start to hate, as it makes him look like he knew something he shouldn't and he is thriving because of it.
Baffled at what had happened in the span of two hours, all you could do is ponder on what awaits you in the following days.
“THIS IS THE PLACE WHERE YOUR DAD AND I WENT INTO A STARGAZING DATE.”
It has been an hour since you have arrived into the cabin. Your parents decided to give you an hour to adjust and fix your things into your assigned rooms, giving you time to take a quick shower to freshen yourself after that two men bombarded you with their fingers.
Now wearing a yellow summer dress, you could still feel their forbidding touch into your skin. Even if they once again do not talk to you after the ride, treating you like you are just part of the air they breathe.
Not that you mind—well, you actually do, anyway—but one of them literally had their fingers deeply inserted in your walls and the other one humped your ass while you were seated on his lap. So, what the hell are they even on?
After an hour, your parents called the three of you for what they call a cabin tour. Soobin even commented that it sounds too cheesy, but you all have nothing to do in this house anyway. You are all now standing on the patio, silently judging your parents as they take their time reminiscing about their old days in this exact area.
“Okay, we get it,” Beomgyu suddenly voiced out, one arm draped on Soobin’s shoulder while the taller one was staring blankly at the scene. They were standing almost a foot away from you, triggering you at most. “You guys are the perfect couple.” Both of your parents laughed at his sarcastic remark, “Oh, Beomie, of course we are!” Your mother replied, locking arms with your step father beside her.
Soon, they lead you into the kitchen. The cabin was modernly designed, but it still gives that cozy, rural-vibe feeling with the earth-tone bricks and open spaces. “Oh, right, before we forgot,” Your mom faced the three of you with that sickening motherly smile, “We need to drop by the nearby town to buy some supplies, would you three be okay here?”
You have known your mother since birth, and you knew that this trip to town she was saying has an underlying agenda. This overall family retreat even has another specific goal to begin with—to reconcile both of their children. You knew that. And, you also knew that the sweet smile plastered on her face is a trap, because she knew no one would say no to her.
“We could help—” Soobin tried to compromise, but his father stopped him in an instant.
“No, you guys stay here and rest—or talk about anything!” Soobin grumpily sighed at his father's obvious hints, also aware that they are planning something that unbeknownst to the three of you. Beomgyu broke the silence, faking a cackle before he clasps his hands.
“Oh, sure! You guys take your time.” He cheered, nudging Soobin with his shoulder that made the older roll his eyes and defeatedly nod his head. Your arms crossed in front of your chest, raising a brow to your mom that made her smile falter for a bit.
“We won't take long, plus there is still something for you to do! You guys are free to explore the lake behind the cabin if you want to!” Your mom ensues, pulling the man beside her to exit your questioning gaze.
“You kids have fun!” Your step father shouted before the two of them went back to the garage. Another silence stretched into the kitchen. And, in all honesty, you do not know if you want to thank your parents for this set-up and giving you an opportunity to clarify everything or curse them for leaving you alone with these two.
Minutes passed, no one still dared to speak. You being confused in their action is an understatement, you are gone bewildered at this point. Shaking your head in disappointment, you were about to head out the scene when a hand pulled you back.
“Where are you going?” Beomgyu asked, gripping your wrist gently. Your cheeks reddened at his question, your heart palpitating when you saw both of them rigidly staring at you. There they go again, tearing your mind apart by their questionable actions.
“My room?” You answered, having enough of their combined bullshits. Beomgyu smirked at you, before giving Soobin a glance. He then stepped closer, going over your space like he owns it.
“Boo, that's depressing,” He jeered, walking towards your back while both his palms found your shoulder. “Why not join us by the lake?” His low whisper sent shivers on your skin, eyes darted to your step brother who was leaning on the counter with his arms locked together.
“We are actually going?” Soobin questioned, causing the younger to chuckle. “Indeed we are,” He cheered, hands gradually brushing your arms until his palms found your waist. “Right, sunshine?” Beomgyu has always been the best at playing the perfect tease, and your body reacts to it satisfactorily.
As if you are automated, your head turns when you hear his favorite nickname to use. “Uhm…” Your stomach churned when you now noticed that Soobin is looking at you from head to toe, dull eyes watching Beomgyu’s hands on your body. “Yeah?” The guy behind you whispered, causing your throat to dry.
You do not know what lies ahead if you agree to come with them, but you do know that you want to get at the bottom of this mess. This gives you an opportunity, yet of course, these two men are beyond unpredictable. Leaving you conflicted on what you should do.
“You know you want to,” Your step brother suddenly walked up in front of you, fingers finding their way to fix the strayed strands of your hair. “We will just talk.” The beats of your heart are nearly audible in your ear, allured at how he sounded like he meant every word he uttered.
Despite the lingering hesitation, your body had betrayed you. Gesturing a small nod to the gentlemen you are with.
Beomgyu giggled before giving your waist a slight squish, while Soobin started to lead the way into the backdoor. You could almost foresee where this decision would lead you, but still, you gave them the benefit of the doubt.
The sun was already blazing when you arrived at the greenery, warm air brushing into your skin like a gentle warning. Your nose was filled with the tree's wooden musk combined with the lake's musty, grassy scent. From afar, you noticed a flourishing oak, with a picnic mat laying under its shadow.
“Too much for setting us up,” You whispered, mentally reminding yourself that you need to talk to your mother after this. Beomgyu seems to realize the situation a little too late, utterly puzzled why there was a prepared spot for the three of you to talk.
Soobin made his way into the mat, heart-shaped lips in an irritable pout as he removed his slippers. “What are you two waiting for?” He then asked, sitting on the mat while he rested his back on the oak's trunk. The man beside you gave you a light push, urging you to remove your flip-flops and sit from the farthest side of the mat.
Beomgyu soon followed, man-splaining his legs into the mat that took half of the space. They seemed too calm and unbothered, which is a dangerous sign that you must take note. Both of them are looking at gentle swells of the lake, giving each other short glances from time to time.
Realizing that they already did their boys talk, you blew a deep sigh before kneeling on the mat to gather their attention. “I thought we were gonna talk?” Your question made Soobin sit properly, while Beomgyu smirked within himself. There is something about their gaze that you cannot quite comprehend, but it makes you squirm in your place.
“Well,” The brown haired boy scoots over your seat, crawling to reach your figure. His lean frame managed to block out Soobin from your sight, now kneeling in front of you whilst his hand went to cup your cheek. You flinched at his touch, gulping at his unannounced actions. “What is there to talk about, sunshine?”
Your forehead creased at his question, feeling personally invalidated with his approach in this regard. “What do you mean that—”
“What is there to talk about when I could just show you instead?”
The screws of your brain barely understood what he meant when he leaned in for a kiss. Lips instantly swaying on top of yours that caused you to softly whimper. The way they move is rough and clumsy, pressing on yours as if he is inhaling every breath in your lungs. Panic formed into your chest, hands finding his shoulders to pull away yet he is much stronger. He even brought you closer, arms snaking on your waist while his tongue began to find its way in your mouth.
In a daze, you cannot help but dance your lips against his. Beomgyu's hand gradually roamed into the curve of your ass, making you gasp in a strange feeling. For then, he seized that chance to suck your lower lip, a moan casually slipping past your lips. You are in the moment when you feel another pair of hands in your back, spreading sensation in your weakling body.
For then you remembered, you two are not alone. Your step brother was watching throughout the process of your drool exchange with his best friend.
Snapping back to reality, you managed to push Beomgyu with enough force, causing him to abruptly sit on the mat. You took a sharp inhale before turning back to look at Soobin—who is glaring at the man in front of you.
“You really need to work on your patience, Gyu.” The blonde taunts, resting his chin on your shoulder before his arms begin to hug you from behind. “This is not what we have talked about.”
Intently lost at his words and overly flustered at what is happening, you were about to question them when your step brother's hands started to travel on your exposed legs. You tried to clutch his hands but Beomgyu managed to catch yours, hastily gripping it with one hand. There was nothing you could do when Soobin started to pull up the fabrics of your dress, heart pumping frantically in anticipation.
“Look at me,” The man in front of you suddenly spoke, pinching your chin to force your face. “You will let us use you, right?” Beomgyu teased, leaving a peck on your lips before biting your lip once more. You winced at his action, but it soon turned into a pathetic moan when you felt your brother's slender fingers near your cloathed wet cunt.
Soobin chuckled at your sounds, giving your inner thigh a light slap. “Come on, answer him.” A small ouch came from you, jolting at the sting of your skin. You could have sworn that he almost sounded like a different person, and that gave you enough adrenaline rush to nod at his best friend's question.
A wide smile formed in Beomgyu’s lips, even giving you a gentle head pat. “Very good answer, angel,” He mumbled, adoration flooding his brown eyes. His deep voice plus the heavenly nickname made you twitch, clamping your thighs together as you grew uncomfortable with the growing slick of your sex. “Now, give your brother a turn.”
Your heart was nearly escaping your ribcage when you heard his command. Hesitantly, you turned to fully face Soobin, who was now sitting with his legs crossed. You didn't even notice that he already retrieved his hands with your mind being too clouded with Beomgyu's words.
The blonde extended his hand out, wearing an unreadable expression. He looked uninterested, but at the same time, you could see the spark of excitement in his orbs. It made your drenched pussy pulse in delight, biting your swollen lip before slowly accepting his hand and placing yourself on his lap.
Your heart swelled at the sight of him below you. There is no point denying that you have imagined this exact scene many times—and, being able to finally see it just added more heat in your abdomen. His wide palm rested on your hips for support, pupils intently studying your face from your eyes to your lips.
Falling deep into your needs, you went in to kiss his plump lips. Soobin immediately accepted your advances, one hand flying to your nape to deepen the kiss. Muffled sounds came from you, hips mindlessly reacting by subtly grinding itself on his. The delicious friction that came from it made the both of you moan, tongues colliding in sync that almost suffocates you.
“Fuck,” You heard a voice on your side, before you felt a hand on your shoulder, forcefully pulling you out from Soobin's drowning kisses. “I can’t wait,” Beomgyu breathes before his lips once again find their way into yours. A whine escapes your throat, unable to keep up from how torrid he is moving on your lips.
Soobin didn't even bother to scold him, not when he is now busy peeling the straps of your dress. Your mind begins to feel torn at the overwhelming feelings they are giving to your body, brain unable to focus on what you should think about first—Beomgyu's hot tongue swirling past your lips or Soobin's fingers that are on their way of exposing your tits.
The humid air hits your chest the moment your step brother pulls down the built-in pads of your dress, freeing your mounds with your nipples perked up. “Fucking knew these were perfect.”
You moaned between Beomgyu's torrid kiss, giving his wet muscle more access inside your mouth. A choked-up sound left you when he shoved his tongue into you, shared drool slipping past your lips.
You haven't moved on from the feeling of Beomgyu's tongue deep in your throat when you felt Soobin's warm breath near your nipple. A surge of luscious sensation fills your nerves, one hand going to the brunette’s shoulder and rapidly tapping it as a sign that you are running out of air.
Thankfully, he received it well, only for his lips to drop to your jaw. You tilt your head back, giving him more access to your neck. An airy gasp left you when the man below you began to roll his tongue on your bud, drawing slow circles on it before harshly sucking it. As if they always think alike, Beomgyu did the same thing on your neck, even leaving feathery kisses on the mark he just left.
It just got worse when Soobin started to move his hips below you, tripling the pleasure you are receiving from them. His other hand also went to caress your untouched mound, pinching your nipple before rolling his thumb on it.
“Mhhmpph, w–wait…” One of your hands went to Soobin's blonde locks, overstimulated limbs trying to stay aware of what the two of them were doing to your body. Beomgyu cackled on your pleas, stopping for one second to remove his shirt before getting back on leaving trails of kisses on your shoulder.
“Sorry, sunshine,” He mumbled between his pecks, “Mom and dad will come back soon, we can't have them seeing us like this…” Worry filled your weary insides, cheeks burning at the thoughts of being caught in the act by your own parents. However, those cohesive thoughts began to disperse when Soobin suddenly bit your bud, abruptly screaming out of pain.
Your step brother briefly giggled against your flesh, peppering your boobs with pliant kisses as a silent apology. He then pulled out, for then Beomgyu called his attention.
“Wanna eat her out?” The brunette suggested, talking too casually as if you are not listening in between them. This halted Soobin's hips, obviously considering what his best friend just said. “One of the best I had, believe me.”
The heat of your body amplified at his remarks, getting more and more embarrassingly drenched. The blonde gave you a short glance, eyes as twice as determined the last time you saw it. He gave your lips a peck before guiding your body to hop out his lap.Trying to remember what you did with Beomgyu, you were about to lay down when he suddenly stopped you. Momentarily confused, you blinked at him—only for a devilish smirk to form in his face.
“Sh–Shouldn't I lay—”
“There are other ways to do it,” He explained, eyes darting into your plush chest that are presented in front of him. “Plus, where is the fun if he is the only one who gets his share?”
Soobin huffed at his friend's nuances, fixing his position before laying on his back. Not knowing what to do, your arm tried to cover your breast while giving them confused looks. Beomgyu fetched your hand in your chest, pulling you up so you could kneel.
“Sit on your brother’s face,” Your eyes dilated at his order, heart pounding as you gaze at the blonde who was already ready. Heart pounding, there is nothing you could do when the younger guy assisted you to place yourself in Soobin's face.
The fabrics of your yellow dress covered his head. Your mind was partly worried if your step brother could still properly breathe between your thighs, half of it unable to function anymore by how stimulated you have been for the last couple of minutes. Stings of whine left you when his breath reached your aching cunt, shuddering at the tingling feeling.
Beomgyu still has his hand supporting you, also kneeling in the mat while his hand fumbles on the button of his shorts. You want to keep yourself aware of what he is doing but your eyes inevitably close shut when Soobin's lips begin to leave tiny kisses on your cloathed pussy, nails digging into Beomgyu's palm as you also feel his tongue drenching your ruined undies.
“Haah, Soob—” Your other hand almost went to his hair but the man in front of you caught it. Lost at what happened, your eyes fluttered open—only to see Beomgyu with his thick, erect cock whipped out of his shorts. Mouth gaping at the sight, panic clawed in your throat when he led your hand into the base of his length.
All of those directions he gave you before turned blurry as you cannot seem to focus, especially now that Soobin is constantly licking your slick through your panties. Beomgyu seemed to notice, ragged breaths leaving him as he guided your hand up and down his cock.
“Remember what I taught you, sunshine?” You could feel fire running in your skin with how sultry he sounds, getting more turned on when he spat directly on his tip which also hit your skin. Strained groans came from him the moment you start jerking his cock on your own, fist in a deliberate pace.
Beomgyu hissed when at warmth of his saliva, perfectly coating his girth with the help of your palm. He then stepped two steps backward, giving you enough space to bend your upper body and for your mouth to reach his dick. The way his veins pulsate under the brush of your hand feeds your longing ego, fixing your position above Soobin's face so that you could suck the younger without any hindrance.
Now in all-fours, you could see Beomgyu's dark eyes focused on the curve of your back in your peripheral vision. “Such a good sister,” The brunette snickered, once again giving you a soft pat in the head. “Serving me while letting her brother eat her out.” Your cunt throbbed at his words, and even shortly froze when Soobin swayed enough fabrics of your panties. Letting the humid brush into your trembling pussy lips.
You could feel your juices dripping into your thighs when your step brother starts to suck into your clit, lapping it like it is the sweetest treat he ever tried. Mouth shaping into an O in every moan you voice, Beomgyu quickly turned it into a chance to thrust his cock into your lips.
Heedless with his movement, you failed to accommodate his thick cock in one go, audibly gagging around it. The younger vilely laughed at your state of misery, pulling out his length just to check if you are still able to use your airway.
“Too much? You already got it the first time.” He joked, nastily smudging his precum into your parted lips. There is a part of you that wants to defend yourself, but your mind kept slipping up with the way Soobin is using his tongue to torture your sopping pussy. You were unconsciously grinding your hips to his face, the grip you have on Beomgyu’s cock getting tighter.
Trying to regain yourself, you gaped your lips to take his tip to give it a light kiss. You felt him shudder at your touch, getting more excited to show him more. With your tongue, you gave his cockhead a swirl, slowly taking in the salty taste of his liquid. Your hand once again moved to jerk his length, helplessly breathing through your nose as Soobin’s pace in making out with your poor cunt grew rapidly.
“Bet you kept dreaming about that day, huh?” Beomgyu's tone is laced with cockiness, his hips began to follow the direction of your fist pumping his dick. You were about to push yourself deep into his inches when you uncontrollably yelped at Soobin's wide tongue rigorously swiping into your slit.
Once again failing to take him in, the brunette took charge of forcing you to swallow his entire cock. He impatiently thrust his length midway, grunting at the warmness of your mouth coating him. Even on the verge of choking, you now managed to appropriately suck his cock, tongue wiggling slightly just to add pleasure.
The coil on your abdomen went unbearable with how the both of them are treating your body—especially Soobin, who is poking your feeble bud with the tip of his tongue. Your moans were muffled around Beomgyu's wide girth, sending luscious vibration into the younger who has his head thrown back.
In desperation for more friction, you also began to move your hips to ride your step brother's tongue. However, he firmly gripped your thighs, stopping you from moving your lower region. “Easy, sis,” He gritted below you, so airy and deep that it almost went past your ears. “You can't cum just yet.”
Another set of drools escaped your mouth as you tried to form a reply to Soobin while your mouth was still stuffed with Beomgyu’s dick. You could feel the younger’s eagerness to fit his whole size until he reached the back of your throat but he knew that you were too fragile for him to push further. Thus, he held into your cheeks, barely controlling himself so you wouldn't suffocate while sucking him.
His breaths became uneven, chest heaving as your fist started to twist around his base. “Shit, angel,” He purrs, hips rattling on your face. “Fuck, that is so good. Don't suck it too hard.”
The pace of his hips began to grow faster, not even minding if your teeth are grating into his veins. You could feel his hand travelling into your hair, grasping into your strands with delicate force to keep himself grounded.
With your mouth busy with Beomgyu's cock, you have failed to notice the shift in Soobin's position below you. Slowly adjusting himself to stoop lower and reach your quivering hole. You violently coughed around the dick on your mouth you felt the tip of his tongue prodding it, thighs unhelpfully clamping themselves on your step brother's face.
“You good, baby?” The younger asked, putting finger on your chin and giving it a lift, causing his girth to slip out your lips. You looked thoroughly wrecked under his touch, tears forming into your eyes when you felt Soobin giving your tweaking hole a quick lick. The tense feeling on your abdomen went rigid, wanton moans coming out your lips before riding his wet muscle that is in an up and down direction.
Beomgyu grinned at the sight, bright eyes watching how scandalous you look while you humping your step brother's tongue. This view of you goes beyond every porn and hentai he had binge watched with the guy, even better now that they are both experiencing it first hand.
“Gonna cum on your brother's tongue, sunshine?” He taunts, a proud smile resting on his lips like it is a deserving award that he had turned you into some kind of slut. His smile grew wider when you frantically nodded your head, tongue nearly lollying out like a poor dog with how much of a pleasurable torment Soobin's tongue is giving you.
The feeling of your pussy being lapped by your brother while you prettily sit on his face with his best friend stimulating you with his words is beyond what you had imagined. And, with thought of how good it must be to cum on Soobin's mouth has sent you to the edge, splurging hot, sticky liquids straight into his tongue.
Your frail body has collapsed under the intense surge of uncomfortable slick running down your thighs. Luckily, Beomgyu was there to support your figure, too weak to even remove yourself in the older's face. He guided you to rest on his lap, freeing his best friend between your thighs.
Soobin then sat up, thumb brushing in his bottom lip as traces of your wetness trails down his chin. He offered a sly smile, before sucking in the remaining essence to make sure nothing was wasted.
It made him a hundred times glorious as he already is. And, it is making your nerves hypersensitive with how your pussy began to uncontrollably throb at the mere sight of him.
The subtle twitches of your body didn't go past Beomgyu's eyes, hands snaking into your dress to completely peel off your panties. Goosebumps run through your body when the warm air directly hits your cunt, tweaking into the younger's arms.
“Fuck, Bin, look at this.” He then blurted, both palms forcing your thighs to open wide. “She is hungry, don't you think?”
Intrigued, Soobin followed the direction of this friend. And, being the one you could visibly see, you were at awe with the sudden change in his face. His tempting, dulled pupils went focused and dark, with his jaw tightening alluringly.
Before you could even focus on what Beomgyu is doing on your body, your gaze went down to your step brother's soiled shorts, with his big bulge evidently begging to be freed. To be fair, you have always known that Soobin was big—even bigger than his friend. Aside from catching him watching pornographic anime, you have once seen him jerking himself with his door left ajar.
He has a girth that could stretch your hole wide without filling you with his whole length. Realizing that you are obviously eyeing his crotch, his fingers began to fumble within the garters of his shorts. Your heart was rigorously hammering in excitement, hips moving by itself just to seek for any friction.
As you were sitting on his lap, Beomyu took the chance to rub himself in your leaking clit. The delicious grind felt perfect for your needy cunt, back leaning into his chest while your eyes remained to your step brother who was now slowly fisting his erect cock.
“So wet for us, baby,” The brunette whispered behind you, subtly aligning his cock into your hole. Broken moans left you, chunks of tears sliding in your cheeks as you felt overly sensitive with how his tip teased your beaten pussy. Soobin was about to crawl his way to the both of you when his phone suddenly rang.
Your heart dropped in your stomach, instinctively sitting straight but Beomgyu went to press you closer to his body. The protest you had turned into an audible whine the moment you felt Beomgyu leisurely entering your walls, filling you up while he is looking at his friend who is double thinking if he should answer the call or not.
Soobin, who was turning impatient that the younger was once again taking charge without him, hurriedly answered the call of your mother. A loud scream scratched your throat when Beomgyu pushed you down his entire length without letting your poor pussy adjust, forcing Soobin to drop the call in an instant.
“The fuck was that?” He howled, tightly gripping his phone while glaring at Beomgyu who was smirking at your reaction. His cock was perfectly seated inside you, momentarily twitching when you once again helplessly whined under his touch.
Not minding his pissed off friend on the other side of the mat, his hand flew in both of your hips, wholly supporting your tired body. “This pussy hasn't changed one bit,” Beomgyu growled, strained groans leaving him when your pussy clamped his cock the moment he moved. “But we really need to stay quiet this time, can you do that?” He added, palm diligently travelling to the curve of your mounds to give it a squish.
The phone began to ring again, but now that you are once again under the mercy of Beomgyu's thick and heavy cock, your mind was already shutting down to even care. Soobin let out an irritated huff, carelessly answering the screen while keeping his eyes on the lewd scene in front of him.
“Hello?” He breathes airy, one palm still firm around his cock. Your mom's cheerful tone was barely heard from the other side, making your brother roll his eyes. You cannot deny that this situation has made you fired up, causing your puffy cunt to spill out liquids that made the guy behind you giggle.
“You really like it when we are on the verge of being caught, don't you?” His tone was filled with mockery, hips gradually moving below you that caused his cock to reach deeper. “Does all of this seem familiar, angel?” He grilled, busying his fingers on your nipple. You gritted your teeth, trying to keep your moans to avoid getting caught.
“Yeah, the loud scream was hers, she was hanging out with us in the lake,” You watched as Soobin's fist went faster, in awe with how composed he is on the phone. The beat of your heart flourished when your eyes met, with a cunning smile sitting in his lips. “Of course she was having fun.”
The younger soon caught up with your short exchange with Soobin, using his hand on your chest to cup your cheeks and force you to face him. “One cock is not enough for you?” He hissed, before pulling you into an aggressive kiss.
“Hmmpff—” Your whines are muffled while Beomgyu swallows them, “Such a whore for our attention,” He mumbled between the kiss, erratic breaths leaving him now that he is picking up the pace.
Soobin throwed burning daggers at your exposed body enveloped in Beomgyu's arms, “We are good with anything, you two decide.” His tone went bored, poking his inside cheek as tried to remain calm as he played with his tip. This is totally one of your differences, he knows how to handle himself well while you are wholly messed up.
“You are on your way back now?” Your hand flew to cover your mouth when Beomgyu shifted his angle, hitting that spongy spot that made your toes curl. Despite the fact that Beomgyu is literally devouring your lips, you tried to listen to the conversation Soobin was having with your mom. The mixture of guilt, embarrassment, and neediness reigns on your chest, eyes hot and blurry with tears of pleasure.
“15 minutes? Okay, take care,” That was the last thing you heard before you the younger let go of your face, pulling out from the kiss. A raspy groan left him when he noticed how swollen your lips are, even looking at him with those glassy eyes he adores.
“I might really cum if you continued looking at me like that,” He mumbled, halting his hips before looking at his friend—who was already killing the younger with his eyes.
“Learn how to share, fuckass.” The blonde then proceeds to kneel in front of you. His palms landed on your trembling thighs, only to see how puffy your pussy turned after being filled up by his best friend. Your heart almost stopped beating with the way he touched you, chest heaving as you cannot foresee what his next action would be.
Beomgyu cackled at the older's comment, fingers on your nipple began to give it a gentle twist that made you wince. “Are you thinking what I am thinking?” He notoriously asked, chin now resting on your shoulder. Having no clue what they are talking about, you unconsciously clutched your step brother's hand, anxiously gulping when he just gave you a smirk.
“Give her to me,” Soobin then ordered, throwing you into deep confusion. Just like an object they possess, you were passed into one lap to another. Your shaky hands are placed into the blonde's broad shoulders, still searching for an answer in his eyes.
You were still drowned in his intense stare when you felt a tip prodding on your loose hole, shivering with how sensitive you are after being pounded not so long ago. “Still good?” He momentarily assures, and after a half-minded nod, his cock begins to rip you open.
There was something about Soobin that you cannot point out, something that itches your body's needs in the perfect way possible. Your heavenly fused moans are scattered in the greenery, walls tightly hugging his cock as it was easier to take him in after Beomgyu's dick prepped you beautifully.
“Shit, your cunt is suffocating me,” His words are impossibly heard by how strained his voice is. You were no better, worn out throat now only able to create mumble sounds after all the moaning. He was almost fully in when you felt another tip from behind. In instant panic, you turned to Beomgyu, who has been peppering your shoulder with weary kisses.
“W–Wait, I cannot—”
“Shhh, they are coming back soon so we need to hurry.”
Soft sobs left your lips, head nuzzling into your step brother's neck as the younger starts to tear your walls past its limit. Soobin huskily exhaled at the feeling of his friend's cock slowly grinding into his, yet still managed to draw small circles on your thighs as he coos at you.
Which was what you could consider as an act out of character.
“A bit more, yeah?” He whispered into your ear, cock twitching at the sounds of your sniffs. Your hole was burning with how stretched it is, whole senses and nerves working overtime just to accommodate the two huge girth thrusting themselves. Your fists are turned into a ball, nails digging into your palm as you feel helpless in between them.
“Too much—Too full… Please…” Your pleas hurt the soul of one, but feeds the ego of the other. Beomgyu lowly chuckled when your cunt uncontrollably gushed out liquids, overstimulated with the cocks pulsating inside you.
“We'll move slow, yeah?” He then assured, hands on your hips like he is steadying you on what's to come. “Trust us.” His words and their idle heavy girth combined are enough to make you feel the familiar lewd build up in your lower stomach, sweat gliding into your temple with the thoughts of cumming for the second time this day.
You should have known better and not rely on his words, because the moment you nod your head, Soobin's thick cock began to ram his way into the depths of your cunt, earning a wrecked moan from you. Being the jerk he is, Beomgyu didn't back down as his hips snapped in the plush of your ass.
“Fuck, baby, this is the best day of my life,” The younger cheered, his lips going to your neck to leave love bites and marks all over your skin. The burdening pressure on your abdomen left you uneasy, mind almost blacking out with how they started to go at a rapid pace.
“Your pussy is lovely, sis,” Soobin snickered, one palm groping your tits as his hips rocked harder. “Beomgyu was right about you.” He continued, before his other hand on your thigh traveled to play with your swollen folds. The thoughts of him finally confirming that he knew about everything that happened on that day just made you more hazy, your sobs and moan fusing together that became music to their ears.
With the build-up of your release growing faster, you made the tiniest effort to meet their hips halfway. But giving up within seconds as you cannot catch up with how eager their movements are. “Cum… Haaaah—” You didn't manage to complete the word when the knot on your stomach snapped, coating their lengths with those hot, sticky juices.
Your whole body fluttered into Soobin's chest, fat chunks of tears dwelling in your eyes as they didn't stop torturing your poor cunt. Beyond the overwhelming feeling of cumming, you are thoroughly overstimulated with how their cockheads take turns bumping into that sweet spot that made your abused cunt gush out more liquid.
“You did well—Shit… Did well, baby… It's our turn now.”
Ragged breaths are heard on both of their mouths, evidently trying to chase their own high. Despite the pain of oversensitivity, you tried to help them by snugging both of their girth, a woeful whimper leaving you with how the veins of their cock tingles every nerve of your pent-up walls.
“Need to cum—fuck!” Beomgyu's curse filled the air the moment you felt a thick rope of cum pumping deep into your cunt, thighs quivering with how full you felt. The younger’s uneven exhales were fanning your reddening skin, even leaving another set of kisses while he rode down his high.
Soobin shook his head in disappointment, still busy drilling himself to your hole as he chased his own pleasure. “Impatient shit as always,” He grunts, head throwing back as his cock begins to flood your pussy with his own seed.
You rigidly shudder at the feeling of being stuffed with different cums, eyes tightly closed while you wearily gather your breaths. Soobin was the first to pull out, followed by Beomgyu who still has his lips latched on your skin. You hissed at the contact, face contorting into a grimace when you felt the mixture of cum pouring out to the wrinkled picnic mat.
Silence prevailed between the three of you, stuck in the position of nasty three-people sandwich who are drenched with cums and sweat. Soobin sighed as he pushed Beomgyu's head away from your neck, giving you some space to stretch your exhausted limbs.
“They are about to be back,” He announced, using the back of his hand to wipe out the scattered tears and sweat on your face. “We need to get into the lake.”
Confused, you sat up straight with your remaining strength. “Wait, why?” Your voice sounded too raw, throat too dry from everything you have done.“
They both thought that we were hanging out in the lake,” Your step brother kindly explained, yet the small tug in his lips left you restless. “Plus, you didn't think that we are done now, did you?”
wawi's notes: I'M CRINEEEEE i finally finsihed this piece and i am beyond ecstatic >< sorry for the shitty ending, i do not know how conclude a threesome in a good note... AND another apology for disappearing for almost two weeks </3 pls enjoy this compensation fic.... likes, reblogs, nd comments are appreciated >< mwa mwa mwa !!
warnings/tags: professor/student au, college setting, legal age gap, strict professor beomgyu, organized top student reader, risky public sex, almost getting caught, buildup, desk usage, praise kink .. probably missing tags
a/n: request for anon! this is my first fic after quite some time so i’d love to hear any criticism as long as it isn’t rude please!
you have never missed a single deadline in your entire academic career, but you are also completely whipped over your professor.
it started exactly in september, the third week of classes, when he handed back your first paper. you got an a plus and a single comment written in dark red ink at the bottom of the last page: excessive but correct. you looked up from your desk and he was already watching you with that low expression on your face, arms crossed over his chest, like he was waiting for you to argue about the comment he left. like he was daring you.
you didnt argue though. you just nodded and glared at him then wrote the comment down in your lecture notes and spent the rest of the semester trying to get him to look at you the same way again. like you were a problem he hadn’t solved yet.
you wanted to be completely wrapped around his finger.
you started wearing skirts to class, ones that were short enough to when you bent over even the slightest bit, he could take a small peak. you started staying after to ask questions you already knew the answers to, just to stand close to his desk and embrace his presence while he explained things in that low serious tone. you knew you were being reckless and you knew it but you couldn’t stop. you had never wanted anything more than this.
its november now, three weeks before finals, and you have a paper due on friday. you finished it last tuesday, but you go to his office hours anyway on thursday at four pm because you have a question about the footnote format… at least that’s what you tell yourself when you check your reflection in the window of the building, while you smooth out your plaid skirt and straighten your white, almost see through blouse and make sure your hair is neat while it flows down your back.
his office is at the end of the hall, small and cluttered with books stacked on every surface possible. you knock three times gently, the way you always do, and you hear him say "come in" in that voice that does things to your spine.
you push the door open then you see that hes sitting at his desk with his reading glasses on, frowning at something on his laptop, and he looks up when you enter. his expression doesnt change but his eyes do something complicated when he sees that its you. something that makes your stomach flip completely.
"close the door," he says.
you do. you click it shut and turn the lock without being asked, the way you always do. you sit in the chair across from his desk with your legs crossed at the ankle and your notebook open to the exact page you need, with your pen ready.
beomgyu looks up from his laptop and his expression doesnt change but his eyes do something complicated when he sees its you. something that looks almost like hunger before it shutters back to complete professional disinterest.
"miss y/n," he says. "what brings you here today at this hour? your paper is not due until friday."
"i finished early," you say. "i wanted to clarify the footnote format for the citation. the library has it formatted differently."
beomgyu doesnt look at your notebook. he is looking right at you. at your throat where your pulse is beating way too fast. at your hand resting on the edge of his desk, close to his own.
"you are always careful," he says quietly. "always prepared. you have never submitted a paper with one single error. not once this entire semester so far.”
"i like to do things correctly." you answer quickly.
"do you." it is not a question. he turns in his chair and now you are standing between him and the desk, trapped in the space he has created. "or do you just like to impress me?"
your breath catches. "i dont know what you mean…"
“yes you do." he stands up. he is much taller than you and he uses it, he steps forward until you have to tilt your head back to meet his eyes. "you sit in my front row in your perfect outfits with your perfect notes and you answer every question like you are performing for a show. for whom, miss y/n? for the class? or for me?"
your mouth is dry and your voice trembles. "for the material."
"liar," he says, and there is something almost soft in it. "you have been acting different for me since september. since you took that comment on your first paper and decided to make me notice you."
"i didnt decide anything."
"no?" he reaches out and touches your face gently, just his thumb brushing against your cheek, and you stop breathing. "you planned this y/n, you planned your teasing outfit and your question and the way you would stand just close enough that i could smell your sweet perfume. you are too organized for accidents. so tell me. what is the plan you have set up? what do you want from me?"
you look up at him and you see it, the way his hand is shaking where it hovers near your face. he is not as controlled as he pretends. he never has been.
"i want you to stop being my professor," you say. "just for an hour, please. i want to see what happens when you are not grading papers and setting up strict rules."
"and then what?"
"and then i want you to ruin me," you whisper. "i want you to mess up my perfect attendance and my perfect grades and my planning. i want you to make me forget about it all."
beomgyus hand closes around your jaw. his grip is firm, possessive, nothing like the polite personality he maintains in class. "you’re driving me crazy," he says. "do you understand that? i’m only your professor. this is my office and if anyone found out i would lose my job. you would be in quite a lot of trouble, this is not some fantasy where there are no harsh consequences."
"i know," you say. "thats why i want to make this quick."
his eyes flash. he kisses you.
it’s not gentle and it’s not careful. it’s complete biting and tongue while his hand is pulling on your hair, making your head go back to give him better access. you make a noise against his mouth and he swallows it, pressing your back against his desk until you are sitting on the edge and he is standing between your legs. his other hand goes to your waist and pulls you closer and you can feel how hard he is through his pants.
"you planned this," he says against your lips.
"as always," you gasp.
"then plan to be quiet for me," he says. "because i’m going to fuck you on this desk and you are not going to make a single sound. can you do that? can my best student follow simple directions?"
"yes," you breathe. "yes, professor choi."
he groans at the title and the way you speak. his hands go to your blouse and he starts unbuttoning it with fast movements, but he pauses when he gets to the third button. there is a hard knock at the door.
you freeze. beomgyu goes still, his hand on your chest, while he covers your mouth with his free hand.
"professor choi?" a voice calls. it is another student, you recognize her voice from the second row. she is in your section. "are you there? i have a question about the assignment."
beomgyu looks at you. his eyes are dark, completely unlike the controlled man who teaches your class. he should tell her to come back. he should push you away. he should do a dozen things that make obvious sense.
instead he says, "one moment," and his voice is steady, and professional. he looks down at you and raises an eyebrow. "under the desk," he mouths.
your heart stops. then it starts racing so fast you feel terribly dizzy.
you slide off the desk and onto your knees. he guides you with a hand on your shoulder, pushing you gently until you are crawling under his desk, hidden in the shadowed space between the front of his legs. it’s tight and dark and you can hear and see him settling back into his chair, the wheels creaking slightly.
"come in," he says.
the door opens. you can see your classmates feet from your position under the desk, her white sneakers and the hem of her jeans. she walks in and sits in the chair you were just occupying earlier before things between you and professor choi got crazy
"im sorry to bother you," she says. "i know office hours are almost over."
"it is no bother," beomgyu says. his voice is calm, patient, exactly the way he sounds in class. "what is your question?"
"its about the citation format. for the paper."
you almost laugh. you would, if your heart was not beating so loud to where you are sure she can hear it. she is asking about the exact thing you asked about. the thing that started all of this.
"the paper is very specific," beomgyu says. you see his hand reach for a pen on the desk above you. "you must include the access date for electronic sources. here, let me show you."
he leans forward to write something and as he does, his other hand finds your head under the desk. his fingers messing through your hair then tightens, guiding you forward until you are pressed against his legs. you understand exactly what he wants.
your hands go to his belt. your fingers are shaking but you manage to unbuckle it quietly. he is still talking your classmate, his voice steady and perfect as if nothing was happening.
you pull his cock out of his underwear and he is hard and so heavy in your hand. you hear his breath hitch slightly but he covers it with a cough.
"are you alright, professor?" the other student asks.
"just a cold," he says. "continue. what else is confusing you?"
you lean forward and take him into your mouth.
he tastes exactly like how you imagined. you have to work carefully in such a small space, your head bumping against the underside of the desk, your knees aching on the hard wooden floor, but you have never done anything this crazy in your life and you can’t back down now.
you swirl your tongue softly around the head and slide down as far as you can. his hand in your hair tightens, pulling slightly, and you feel him twitch in your mouth.
"so for the quote," he says, and his voice is still mostly steady but there is a roughness underneath now, a tension, "you would format it like this."
he writes something on the paper he is showing her. his hips shift, pushing up slightly into your mouth, and you take him deeper. you can feel him throbbing against your tongue and it makes you soaking wet, the knowledge that you are doing this, that you are under his desk sucking him off while he tutors another student, that you have reduced this strict, disciplined man to this.
"that makes sense," she says. "thank you so much. i know i ask a lot of questions."
"it is my job to answer them," beomgyu says. his hand is gripping your hair so tight it hurts but you do not stop. you bob your head even faster, using your hand on what can’t fit, and you feel his thighs tense under your palms.
you want him to come. you want him to lose control in his own office with a student sitting just inches away. you want to be the one thing that breaks him.
"is there anything else?" he asks, and his voice is strained now, barely holding on.
"no, thats all. thank you again."
"of course. close the door on your way out."
you hear her stand, then walk to the door. you hear it open and then close and then you hear beomgyu let out a breath that sounds like a prayer.
"you," he says, and his voice is wrecked, "are going to be the death of me."
you pull off long enough to say, "should i stop?"
his hand tightens in your hair. "if you stop i’ll fail you out of spite."
you laugh, the sound vibrating around him, and he groans. then he is pulling you up, out from under the desk, and he is kissing you again, desperate and messy. he lifts you onto his lap as he sits on his chair still and pushes your skirt up around your waist.
"you’re perfect," he says against your mouth. "you’re perfect and impossible to deal with and i have thought about this since the first week of class."
"thought about what?" you ask, breathless.
"thought about fucking you while you sit on my lap in my office while you wear that skirt. thought about ruining your perfect life with extra credit assignments that involve you on your knees.“
he pulls your underwear down your legs, lifting you up a bit on his lap. you gasp. he pushes two fingers inside you without warning and you arch back, knocking over a stack of papers.
he moves his fingers inside you, finding the spot that makes you see absolute stars, and you bite your lip to keep from crying out. you’re already so close, just from thinking about the risk, from the moment under the desk, from his fingers inside you.
"please," you whimper. "please, need you inside me."
"professor choi," he corrects, but he is already unbuttoning his shirt, already lining himself up. "say it properly."
"please professor choi," you beg. "fuck me. please."
he pushes in.
you both moan. he’s huge and hot, filling you completely. he pauses for a moment, breathing hard, his forehead against yours.
"you take it so well," he murmurs. "look at you. my best student. so perfect for me."
"move," you whisper. "please move."
he starts slow, thrusting deep, while he guides your hips on his lap, but it does not stay slow for long. he picks up the pace, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, and the chair starts to creak.
"you wanted your professor to fuck you in his office, hm?"
"yes," you cry out, too loud, and he covers your mouth with his hand.
"quiet," he warns, but he is smiling, that severe expression finally cracked into something fond and desperate. "my perfect princess, you’re going to come for me, arent you? you’re going to come on my cock and take me all in?”
the words send you over the edge. you clench around him, your orgasm rolling through you, and he keeps fucking you through it, chasing his own release. when he comes he buries his face in your neck, biting down hard to muffle the sound, filling up inside you with your name on his lips.
you stay like that for a long moment, his face buried in your neck while your head rests on his shoulder on his ruined chair, breathing hard. his hand is still over your mouth slight and he moves it now, gently, brushing your hair back from your face.
"your paper," he says, "is getting an a."
you laugh, breathless, "youre ridiculous."
"im all yours," he says, it sounds like a promise. beomgyu grins, that pleased smile that you have only seen in your dreams until now. "my office is always open at all times for my top student."
"your only student," you correct.
"my only student," he agrees, and kisses you until there is only him and the way he tastes.
a silly continuation of "pretty privilege", but can be read as a stand-alone.
"showing off your incredibly hot and sexy boyfriend is fun until you realize that others also want your incredibly hot and sexy boyfriend. the mere thought of it is enough to make you murderous."
taehyun x fem! reader
Genre: established relationship, fluff, smut, pwp
Word count: 2.2K
warnings: not proof read im sorry, dare i say the softest switch x switch… mc kinda doms for two seconds before it switches to soft dom!tyun x sub! mc, dry humping, raw sex, pet names (honey, love, baby, etc), hair pulling, scratching, breast play, creampie, mc is possessive it's kinda scary, but tyun matches her freak so it's ok, extreme fluff ahead they're so in love and it hit me like a bag of bricks,, i didn't see it coming (lmk if i should add anything!)
notes: another one thank you
posting taehyun was the best and worst thing you've ever done— you always knew your boyfriend was hot, itching to show him off to the world, but you never expected other's to be so… vocal about the shared sentiment.
"baby," taehyun's voice has managed to become distant, biting your nails as you scroll through the comments section of your newest video— it was a transition video you took during your trip to the beach, an attempt to show off your newest bathing suit and the pretty dress you got for the day out; instead, you're scrolling through endless comments yelling and drooling about your boyfriend— the reaction pictures, the emojis, the 'can you fight?' comments— it's all enough to bring your blood to a boil, your teeth grinding down against your acrylic nails.
"honey," taehyun's hand comes up to snag your nail from your teeth— you look up to find equal parts amusement and concern on his face, "stop it, you're gonna bite the charms off."
even during times like these, where you feel you might just rip someone's head off from the sheer frustration you feel, taehyun still manages to make your heart skip a beat; of course, you shouldn't ruin your fresh set, much less the one he paid for— he's holding your hand so gently, running his thumb across your knuckles as he examines your face marred with stress.
"what's wrong love?" his eyes flicker to the phone you're holding with an iron-clad grip, "did someone send you a weird message?"
at the reminder of your problem, your eyes flicker down to the comments section you've yet to click away from— and your eyes catch onto a certain comment that reads "guys… i found his @ >_<", unable to stop yourself from checking the replies that all beg and scream for taehyun's handle to be revealed— you think you feel your eye twitching as your gaze snaps back to your boyfriend.
you knew he looked incredible when you were filming those videos. it's why you posted them in the first place! his honey skin positively glowed under the sun, his eyes shining cutely and his dimple popping out when you had him follow along with your silly transitions— the tight tee he wore all day that outlined his body perfectly and revealed a bit of his stomach when he raised his arms was definitely eye catching, not to mention the small portion you included of you two jumping into the water, with him shirtless; muscles on display, his long necklace hanging behind his back as the picked you up before dumping the two of you in, turning around and flashing the camera a perfect shot of his broad back— fuck, your teeth are grinding together at the mere realization that there are other's who are drooling over him, even going as far as searching for his personal account…
taehyun is beginning to feel more concerned the longer you stare at him like you might just kill someone; what was meant to be a quiet unwinding before bed has turned into trying to defuse the ticking bomb you've become, your jaw clenching as your eyes begin to trail along taehyun's body— he gulps, watching the way your eyes trace over every last detail, your gaze darkening at what you see.
it all changes in the blink of an eye; you're tossing your phone on the bedside table, crossing your arms against your chest and slumping back into the pillows with a deep pout; though you pretend to watch the documentary taehyun put on, he can tell you're not taking in a single thing.
"baby," he's scooting close to you, sitting up on his forearm as he hovers over you, "what's wrong?"
you frown. "how's your instagram doing?"
"huh? it's fine," you glance at him from the corner of your eyes, and he raises a brow, "i had to private it. i was getting a bunch of random followers."
you slap your hands on your face, letting out a deep groan— fuck. you knew it!
"people are so fucking weird," you grit out, your mood worsening by the second— taehyun merely looms over you, his bright eyes clouding with worry, lips jutting out into a pout— he looks so cute, it's pissing you off. "drooling all over you as if your girlfriend isn't right fucking there."
taehyun tries hard to suppress the small smile that pulls at his lips— he really does— but it's impossible when he watches the way you melt deeper into the bed like a kicked puppy.
"is that what this is all about?" there's a teasing lilt in his voice that make you send him a sharp glare, "you gettin' jealous, baby?"
your frown deepens, and you sit up, "is this funny to you?"
"no, it's cute," he smiles up at you, "'cause now you know how i feel."
"no, no this— this is different," taehyun has failed to defuse you, but he doesn't seem to care much as he watches you rant with a fond glint in his eyes. "when people approach me, i tell them about you— i only think about you, tyun. but online, it's like— i can't control what these freaks are saying about you!"
you sneer, biting at your thumb nail again, "they know you're mine, but they don't care. they actually think they have a chance."
you're off in a world of your own— jealousy is rampant in your gaze that falls onto taehyun, shifting to straddle him while he lays back in bed, his hands coming to rest on your hips.
"you're all mine, right?"
"of course my love," he purrs out.
"it's just not fair," you pout, your hips gaining a mind of your own— you just can't help yourself. not when taehyun is staring up at you with those soft, hopeless eyes, shining with admiration as he presses his hips against yours. not when you can feel his thick length getting harder the more you rub your cunt against him, wearing nothing but his shirt and thin panties that begin to stick to your folds, "i can't stand the way they talk about you."
leaning down, you put your hands against taehyun's chest for support— a particularly firm press against his cock has his brows furrowing, groaning softly as he watches the way your hips more. "yeah? like— like what?"
"like they wanna eat you up," he's fully hard against you, and you're shifting so you can grind your clit against the tip of his cock, "like they see what i see."
"as if they could ever get your hands on you," scoffing, you're haste to pull your boyfriend's cock out, pushing your panties to the side and teasing his leaking tip along your entrance— his fingers dig into your hips, teeth gritting together at the way you leak onto him— your walls flutter at the sudden stretch as you sink down onto him, your sharp eyes taking in the way he falls apart beneath you.
pushing his shirt up, you're raking your nails down his chest just to watch the way a blushed trail of lines appear on his skin— his stomach clenches, flinching when you grip his waist and begin to move on his cock, bouncing your hips and picking up a harsh rhythm that fills the room with sounds of skin slapping against skin; the more you watch your boyfriend struggle to keep up with you, mouth falling open and pretty moans falling from his lips, the more you can feel yourself get worked up.
"y-y'know, i get so many comments on our posts together— saying we're not gonna last," you grit out, angling your hips so his cock can brush perfectly against your walls, clenching down on his thick length, "they act as if you'd actually— f..fucking leave me for them."
"i'd never," taehyun pants out, his eyes rolling back as you slam down on him, "i… only have eyes for you, baby."
"yeah?" you whine, thighs burning as you continue to bounce on your boyfriend's cock, your hips stuttering as he rubs circles on your clit, "i just— i want everyone to know you're n-not… not going anywhere…"
"want them to know i'm all yours?" he's sitting up, adjusting your position so he can meet you halfway, thrusting up into you— he's leaving haste kisses all along your neck, pushing up your shirt until he can kiss along your chest, sucking your nipples and swirling his tongue along the sensitive buds; you're nodding frantically, weaving your fingers into his hair to pull him closer, until your bodies are flush together.
he's trailing back up along your neck, sucking softly at the sensitive spots on your neck before leaving a gentle kiss on your jawline, his lips lingering there, "maybe i should just be your husband then?"
it feels like someone has sent an electric current up your spine— the word husband has you shivering, clenching down on taehyun as your fingers pull tighter at his hair; he moans at your reaction, nipping at your skin and thrusting up into you harder.
"f-fuck, please," you cry out, his lips continuing to suck and kiss at your neck, wandering back down to your breasts— you can feel the pleasure building up, threatening to crash at any moment, "want you to be— fuck!— mine, just mine!"
"i've always been yours," he murmurs against your skin, "and i can be yours forever."
"yes, yes, please—" your heart pounds at the mere thought: taehyun, yours. forever. "i'm gonna cum, fuck, tyunie, oh my god—"
you've lost control of your body, and taehyun is more than happy to step in, his grip on your waist bruising as he guides your body up and down his cock, slamming your hips all the way down to the base. when he feels your walls fluttering around him and your body tense, he reaches to rub tight circles on your clit, placing a soft kiss just under your ear.
"my cute little wife just feels so good, hmm?" the words roll off his tongue and are sweet like honey, your brain short circuiting as you nod, "cum on my cock, pretty."
your body is tuned to his every command, your climax hitting you full force— your cunt flutters around his length, the overwhelming pleasure making you scramble to hold onto something— instead, you drag your nails down taehyun's back, the points of your acrylics digging into his skin and drawing out a long groan from taehyun, setting off his own orgasm; he holds you down against him, rolling his hips up into you as the two of you ride it out, the room silent save for your pants and soft whimpers from the sensitivity.
his body is firm, warm against yours; you can feel his lips tracing along your skin, peppering gentle kisses along your jawline, his hands smoothing up and down your waist; you pull back to get a good look at him, his eyes fluttering up to meet your gaze and a small smile tugging at his lips.
"hey," you say softly, brushing back his bangs; he hums, leaning into your touch, "did you really mean what you said?"
"of course i did," his voice quiets, seemingly flustered— he avoids your gaze as he continues. "you're someone i want to spend the rest of my life with."
"i've thought of this before," he confesses, looking back up to find your dumbfounded expression, "have you?"
"i— i have," you breathe out, your pulse racing— there's this charged feeling the rest of the night as you begin to talk about it more seriously, in thorough details; you settle into taehyun's arms with a restless heart, the only thing racing in your mind being the prospect of truly having taehyun be all yours.
♡♡♡
the day after, you sulk when you check taehyun's account, finding his follower count has quadrupled— no, you tell yourself, it's fine, you shouldn't be so worked up over this. when you go to tap on his story upload by instinct, any insecurity and worry washes away instantly— lo and behold, taehyun has posted a picture of him on duty— but… when you take a closer look, you find the pendant of his chain hanging low on his back, brushing against familiar red lines that span along his honey skin, highlighted just enough by the setting sun. you feel like someone has knocked the air out from your lungs, texting your boyfriend— soon to be fiance— with frantic fingers.
get home now.
i need you.
your response comes back instantly.
yes ma'am.
be there soon.
taehyun is bursting through the door fifteen minutes later— by the time you're done with him, you've left marks from beneath his ear to his pelvis, a particularly deliberate mark left on his chest in the shape of a heart; he allows you to rest on top of him as he lays back, wincing whenever he shifts— when you pout and apologize for scratching him so hard, he shakes his head, brushing back your hair with a fond smile.
"don't be sorry, love," he murmurs, "y'gotta show everyone who i belong to, right?"
synopsis IF YOU LET ME STAY THE NIGHT, I THINK I MIGHT JUST HAVE TO STAY FOREVER ⋆ 𐙚 ̊ in which you spend 7 days in cebu, and the fellow tourist you meet by chance makes it difficult for you to stomach the thought of leaving.
pairing choi soobin x (f) reader
genre fluff, smut, reader and soobin are both tourists, strangers to friends to lovers
a/n first fic on this blog kinda nervous :3 been feeling sososo much for my soobie doobie these days, my love couldn't help but spill all over tumblr. hi, new friends! ♡
It seems as though the whole universe has conspired against you.
Standing under the scorching heat, you could not help but think that you should have stayed in the confines of your sweet, humble abode. If only Karina hadn’t convinced you to, in her words, “Step out of your comfort zone, you homebody!”, then maybe you would have been 12 episodes deep in a new drama, or even getting your rank rating up in League of Legends.
It’s hard to gaslight yourself that your trip to Cebu is supposed to be a cathartic experience when it’s all starting so horribly already. Not when you are fresh off a miserable flight with the person in front of you reclining their chair all the way. Not when some businessman spilt their coffee all over your pristinely white hoodie, mumbling that you should have stayed out of the way because he has a flight to catch. Not when you are all alone while everyone else seems to be having the time of their lives raving about the beaches and parties this place has to offer. Not when you couldn’t even shoot a message to Karina complaining about how this was such a dumb idea for a raging introvert like you, because your stupid phone is betraying you and it can’t catch a stupid signal.
And while you are easily irritated, it’s also easy for you to come to terms with the fact that you will be stuck on this island by yourself for 7 days. You tried your best to convince Karina to come with you, but she kept insisting that it was time for you to attempt solo traveling just for the experience. Easy to say for someone as outgoing as her. You huff, feeling defeated as you slump to sit on your luggage, waiting for a cab to take you to your hotel, when you catch sight of a man bickering with… a cab driver?
“What do you mean I have to pay a thousand pesos? My hotel is 15 minutes away!”
If you thought you were already the epitome of irritation, this guy was far worse. He looks like he just clawed his way out of hell with how messy his hair is and how much sweat he’s drenched in. Not to mention the bags under his eyes and how flushed his skin looks from how hard he’s keeping his annoyance within and oh god, he’s beautiful.
He drags his feet to walk away from the cab, eyebrows still furrowed, and you had to begrudgingly stop yourself from checking this stranger out because you do not want embarrassment to lace all the exasperation you’re feeling right now. You feel your cheeks heat up when you realize he stopped to stand beside your slumped form, sulking like you’ve lost all your will to live.
“Jesus, it’s so hot…” you hear him groan as he types away on his phone. You assume he’s complaining to a friend because it’s what you would have done. That is, if you could catch a signal.
You giggle to yourself and he snaps his head to look at you, expression softening.
“Tourist?”
He’s talking to you. What the hell are you supposed to do when a man (who looks like he stepped out of a typical romance drama) strikes a conversation with you? You choose to face him, avoiding eye contact, and nod meekly.
He immediately whines. A behavior such a stark contrast to a man whose figure towers over you, “Can you believe that cab driver tried to charge me 1000 pesos for a 15-minute ride? My friend told me they overcharge tourists like crazy, so I should just act angry, but I guess I’m not scaring them off..?”
You finally make eye contact with him, skimming over his features. He’s handsome, but not in a way that suffocates you. He’s… cute. Makes you feel fuzzy inside with his soft features. Round, wide eyes, nose slightly scrunched, and the way his front teeth sit on his bottom lip makes him look like a bunny who wasn’t given enough carrot treats. What the fuck are you even saying at this point? He’s just some guy. Okay, a gorgeous one, at that.
You clear your throat, “Maybe you should try an Uber?”
“Ubers aren’t available in the Philippines…”
You nod, not knowing what to say. You’ve proven yet again that you are physically incapable of talking to cute guys.
“Shit. Now my phone is at 1%.”
You snort, “I’d offer mine, but this dumb fuck cannot catch a signal.”
He sighs defeatedly, now sitting on his luggage as well, “Aren’t you going to try and get a cab?”
“I was going to, but after seeing you with that cab driver, I might as well just take a flight back home already…”
He chuckles. Even his laugh is pretty.
“Maybe you’re better at haggling than I am?”
He seems to be right, because the first cab driver you hailed instantly agreed to drive you for 300 pesos. You nod at the stranger while loading your luggage in the back, and he smiles at you in return. You’re probably never going to see each other again. So much for a short-lived airport crush.
You fall back onto the expanse of your bed once you’ve checked in, relishing in the comfort after a pain-staking flight. Stretching your back, you’re relieved to find that the hotel wi-fi works like magic, finally satiating your need for chronically online personal time. After a few moments of scrolling through your feed to see what you’ve missed, you grew bored, pressing the call button beside Karina’s contact name. Her face lights up your screen immediately.
“Yah! Why are you on your phone instead of the beach? I just saw you repost a Tiktok 5 minutes ago!”
You roll your eyes, “Can’t a girl replenish her social battery before going out and about all alone?” She simply chuckles, giving you an avenue to start complaining to her about all the mishaps that have happened so far. You drone on and on until you’ve lost track of all the time you spent just grumbling over every inconvenience, and she reassures you that maybe you used up all your bad luck, and from hereon, everything will fall into place smoothly. You aspire to be as optimistic as she is. Soon enough, she yawns, saying that it’s time for her afternoon nap, and you’re left to scurry over to the bathroom to freshen up.
It’s 4PM when you step out of your hotel room, padding over to the lobby to ask for the pathway to the beach, when you catch sight of a familiar tall figure hunched over the receptionist desk. He seems to feel your presence, because he snaps his head towards you.
“Huh? Oh!”
It’s the cute guy from the airport. You swear you’re going to get a heart attack.
“O-oh? Hey,” you try to muster out. You really, really suck at talking to cute guys.
He smiles, “Didn’t know you booked the same hotel! We could have shared a cab, then.”
“Would be weird to tell a complete stranger which hotel I booked, right?” You didn’t mean for the words to trail off your mouth quite harshly, really, but your realization hits you too late when his face flushes in panic as he responds. “A-ah! Yeah! I suppose it would be really weird. Sorry…”
You glance over at the receptionist desk to see that there was no one manning. Great. Now you can’t weasel your way out of this awkward situation.
“Uh… I was going to ask the receptionist where the pathway leading directly to the beach was, but I guess there’s nobody here?”
He’s shocked. It’s almost animated how his expressions are painted on his face. “I was going to ask them too! I’ve been waiting for about 10 minutes now, but I have no idea where the receptionist has gone, so…” He trails off, and maybe it’s the impatience getting to your head, so you ask,
“You want to just fuck it and find it ourselves?”
He looks at you, and for just a moment, you’re terrified. What if he thinks you’re hitting on him? Wanting to spend time alone with a hot guy? You almost think you’re fucked until he flashes a grin.
“I’m already itching to get my feet in the sand.”
And that’s how you find yourself walking side by side with him. You learn that his name is Soobin, and that he’s from South Korea, working in corporate like you. Soobin tells you about his friend that was supposed to come with him, but he booked his flight incorrectly in an absentminded haze, thus he was traveling solo. You tell him that your friend practically had to bribe you into going on this vacation because of all the stress you have bottled up from your miserable job. He lets out a giggle, saying that he needed to get away from his laptop screen given that even typing was giving him a migraine.
Despite your closed off nature, it was surprisingly easy to fall into a conversation with Soobin. Maybe you enjoyed the conversation a little too much, because it’s only then that you realize you’ve been going around in circles, still not finding the beachside.
“Do you think we’re lost?”
He turns over to you and stops in his tracks, smiling sheepishly. “Maybe?”
And then it hits you. You’re lost. God knows where you are, and you’re stuck navigating your way back with someone you met less than 5 hours ago. Did you really put your guard down for a stranger?
“Shit,” you pull out your phone, only to be reminded that it’s practically useless. It doesn’t help that you’re in a dead zone. You see him fiddling with his phone, seemingly to find a way to map yourselves out of this, but he was met with disappointment upon reading the words “no cellular service”.
You groan, wanting nothing but to go back to your hotel room to curl up in your bed, but Soobin was still adamant on finding the beachside. Unfortunately for you and your aching legs, you had to choose between dragging yourself sluggishly or having a tantrum in the middle of nowhere. The latter was a no-go, obviously, unless you had a death wish?
The fatigue and anxiety were catching up to the both of you as dead silence remained in the air, save from the small huffs you were letting out occasionally. Soobin glances at you from time to time, seemingly to check on your pathetic state. The sun was starting to set, and you’re certain you were going to make it to the headlines as the 25 year-old woman who (a) perished in extreme fatigue and irritation, or; (b) got brutally murdered by a bunny-looking stranger twice her size.
You don’t notice that you were looking at the ground, questioning every life decision that has led you to this absurdity, when Soobin’s awed gasp snaps you back into reality.
“Heol…”
You look up to see a breathtaking view, all yours to behold. The sun was setting in the horizon, etched in the apricot sky. Palm trees breezed through the path, and the salt in the air barely grazed your tongue. Soobin has his mouth agape, eyes full of wonder. Okay, maybe he’s not a serial killer out to murder you if he brought you to such a beautiful part of the seaside. Unless this is all part of his grand scheme to let your guard down? But he looks clueless as he can be, perhaps you were more likely to be the murderer in this situation.
“Come! There’s no one around!” Soobin hurriedly waddles over to a spot just below the trees, inviting you to join him. Once you’re sat beside him in the sand, he stretches the entirety of his legs, letting out a hum of relief. He has a stupid smile on his face as his eyes glaze to take in the golden hour.
“I’m sorry I got us lost. I’ve never been good at directions,” Soobin smiles apologetically. “But hey, this view is nice. We have this all to ourselves.”
No one was around. Okay. Maybe this is the part where he brutally murd-
“I hope you’re not too tired. I… kinda heard you huffing a lot earlier and I figured you were getting antsy. Also it was probably because you were lost in god knows where with a dude you just met, so that must have been scary for you? I can’t convince you that I’m completely harmless because that would make me more suspicious, right? And oh god why am I rambling?” He’s melting into a puddle of embarrassment. Usually, you liked it when men learned to shut the fuck up, but you tolerated his rambling. He was quite… endearing, actually.
You let out a small chuckle, “Soobin, it’s fine. We’re chill. I was just tired of walking in circles, that’s all.” He sighs in response, fingers tracing shapes in the sand.
“The view is beautiful though. I’m kinda glad we got lost. We can gatekeep this experience,” you add, shooting a reassuring smile. Now you feel bad for ever thinking ill of him, because the way he perks up and grins at you just seals the deal that he was never a threat. Soobin turns away to continue watching the sunset, basking in the way the sun’s rays kiss his skin.
Time flew by too fast, and now you’re left with the problem of how you’re supposed to go back to the hotel, when a light suddenly beams at the two of you.
“Hey! This is private property!” Fuck. No wonder there weren’t any people around. The two of you get escorted out, with the security guard huffing about how “kids these days just fool around everywhere”, to which you and Soobin turn crimson profusely. You had no choice but to push your luck, asking him the way to your hotel no matter how embarrassed the pair of you were.
“Okay… that was humiliating,” you cringe and glance over at Soobin, who was not faring any better than you. His cheeks were still puffed out, teeth nibbling at his bottom lip.
“Kinda feels like we’re trauma bonded now,” he mutters, praying that this time around, you were going the right way. “Trauma bonded over a humiliation ritual…. today felt too long.”
You hum, “Yep. Might have to skip dinner. I just want to sleep and stock up on social battery for the next 6 days.”
His eyes widened, “Wow. We have the exact same hotel and trip duration.”
You nod, not knowing what to make of this new knowledge, but all the rummaging in your brain was instantly cut off by him.
“Do you, perhaps…” His voice turns small. “Perhaps you’d like to stick together?”
“A whole week together? You might get sick of me.”
He grins, “Well, if by chance I do, it would be totally fine. We’re most likely never going to cross paths with each other again anyway.”
You don’t know what compels you to, but you agree.
You hope Karina would be proud of you stepping outside of your comfort zone (and trusting that some guy doesn’t offer you as human sacrifice.)
The next few days went by like a dream.
On the second and third day, Soobin took you ziplining and leaping off waterfalls despite your protests. You remember how your heart skipped a beat at his proud, child-like grin when he got you to admit that facing your fear of heights ended up rather enjoyable. The day after, the pair of you decided to take a break from the adrenaline and wandered off to the cultural spots Cebu had to offer. You didn’t expect him to take such good shots of you, worthy enough to be posted on your wilting Instagram account. Karina had even bombarded you with question marks, asking if you’ve finally made a new friend. Imagine her shock when you sent her a selfie you had taken of the two of you, and she found out your new “friend” looks like he stepped out of a manhwa.
By the end of the fifth day of your escapades with Soobin, you had suggested trying out the beachside bars your Tiktok algorithm was raging about. It seems like Karina had magic senses, because your phone suddenly chirped with a text notification while you added finishing touches to your makeup.
rina<3: u crack cebu boy yet?
You furrow your eyebrows at this.
: huh
: we’re FRIENDS
rina<3: and he’s ur exact type
: well yes
: but it would be weird to get in a random stranger’s pants
rina<3: dude that’s exactly why
: u can just leave it behind
: what happens in cebu stays in cebu type shit
: esp if hes bad in bed 💀
: you are so…
: what if i catch something from him
rina<3: feelings?
: oh u meant an std
: i snooped through his instagram and mans looks bitchless anyway
: his following list consists of league gameplay accounts and 4 of his friends
: ugh idk man
: i just
: hes hot but
: i’d rather not put weird thoughts in my head about a dude i’m spending the remaining days with
rina<3: LMAO it’s okay i’m playing
: just sayin u only live once
: and i’ve prayed hard for u to finally get laid again
: especially after ur ugly ass ex
: and don’t tell me u haven’t snooped through his ig either
: ?
: i have but
: just out of pure curiosity
rina<3: love when u get defensive
: u in bed alrdy? do u wanna call and catch up
: im yearning for my best friend
: awww i’m going out
: trying the beachside bars
rina<3: oh? 👀
: enjoy <3
: hoping u break ur vow of abstinence
: ????
: love you
: i’ll call u tomorrow evening maybe
Karina sends a heart and a wink in response, making you smile and shake your head
Looking at yourself in the mirror, you adjust a strand of your hair and suddenly become antsy. All those talks about Soobin suddenly made you feel hauntingly self-aware. You hate to admit that you wanted to look pretty to him. Life has a way of making things fall into place so perfectly, because not long after your frustrated fussing, you hear three knocks on your door. Soobin.
You pad over, opening your door to see Soobin standing in true, awkward, painfully endearing Soobin fashion.
His eyes fall on your face, drifting just a millisecond to your bikini-clad and sheer covered body. You barely miss the way his cheeks burn despite the cold air from your room.
“You look-” he starts, but cuts himself off. Alarms blare in your head. Look horrible? A mess? You look like you tried to get all pretty for me but absolutely failed?
“Look what?” you squeak out, voice small. He scratches his neck, as if debating what words to say. You’re painfully fretting over every possible response until he eventually mumbles something after a few beats.
“You look beautiful.”
He says it so sincerely it makes your head spin. But alas, Soobin is Soobin…
“Not in a creepy way! The color of your outfit just fits you really well. And the way you did your hair and makeup is pretty cool. And-”
You shush him, trying to calm your heart that is about to beat out of your chest, “It’s fine, Soobin. You don’t look too bad yourself.”
Awkward silence then envelopes you in the warmly lit hotel hallway, both of you not daring to meet each other’s eyes.
You were the one to break the stillness, “Let’s go?”, to which he hums in response. He looked like he had much more to say, but you don’t dare to pry him on his thoughts in fear of further straining the situation.
One thing you liked about spending time with Soobin is how the two of you go well together. Platonically, you swear. It isn’t even five minutes deep into the walk together when you’re back to telling each other mundane stories about your lives back home. Soobin whines about how he misses his dog, Tori, to which you reply “so she’s far better company than me?”, causing him to ramble in panic. You, in turn, tell him about how you don’t want to come back to office paperwork when you’ve been having the time of your life getting your feet in the sand all day.
“I wish we could stay here forever,” he sighs, seemingly in a haze as the night breeze grazes his hair. “It’s been really fun just doing anything and everything with you.”
You take the chance to finally, actually look at Soobin. He towers over you, looking you straight in the eye like he doesn’t know your heart is about to beat out of your chest every time he does so. His hair is messy from the wind, the outline of his face perfectly chiseled by the moonlight gracing his skin.
In that moment, you know something starts shifting between your feelings and your ever-so rational mind. You can’t help it. Not when he’s looking at you like you hung up the moon. Not when his beauty is one you would only find once in a lifetime.
You’re done for.
Despite this, you push your thoughts down your throat, managing to whisper, “I’ll really miss you when we go our separate ways, you know?”
He chuckles, “Because I’m the only male friend you have that actually takes good photos of you?”
“Your words, not mine.”
He beams teasingly before adding, “I’ll miss you too. A lot.”
Suddenly confronted with the vulnerability of your words, you tear your eyes away from him and start kicking sand beneath your feet, “I don’t know why I got sappy, sorry. I still have 2 days with you.”
“It’s cute,” Soobin reassures you. As a friend would, right? You don’t want to overthink it. “I never would have thought we’d warm up to each other so fast, but maybe I was meant to meet you on this trip.”
“Just so you have someone to buy you vinegar for your jellyfish stings?”
“That, and we make quite a good pair for people who only met at the start of this week.” Your heart feels like it’s being tugged from all sides, painfully reminded of the fact that you’ve grown attached to him in such a short period of time.
Right. You really shouldn’t get too attached to someone who will be an ocean away by the following week.
Your forlorn musings are interrupted by the chants of people that cut through the bubble you and Soobin have placed yourselves in. He flashes an ever so sweet smile at you, taking your hand in his.
“You ready to get absolutely shitfaced?”
The world is spinning before your eyes.
“Sooooobieeee” you slur out, arm snugly wrapped around his. “Let’s drink more!”
You don’t know how much alcohol is flowing through your bloodstream, but it was enough for you to cling into Soobin like he was the only thing keeping you grounded. Literally. If it weren’t for him, you would have fallen face flat into the ground.
He squeaks, “No more! You’re red all over!”
“And you’re not!” you pout, “It’s like I’m the only one having fun!”
You would have thought he was starting to get sick of you if it weren’t for his grip tightening before he says, “I’m having fun. But-”
“Soobin. Soobin. I’m going to throw up.”
He mutters a profanity in his native language, dragging you up so gently and guiding you somewhere your inebriated mind couldn’t fathom. It’s only when you breathe in the stench that you piece out that he had taken you to the bathroom (more specifically, the line of people leading to it.)
“Don’t barf on me, please,” Soobin practically begs, rubbing circles on your back as you lean further into his grip, dopey smile plastered on your face as you admire him from the angle below.
“You’re really, really, reallyyyy cute, Soobie,” you squeeze the bicep you’re clinging onto, making the man shriek in surprise. “How are you even real?”
He chooses to look away from your eyes that keep raking all over him, cheeks now a carmine red.
“I told you earlier that you didn’t look too bad yourself, but I wanted to tell you that you looked absolutely fucking beautiful. Far prettier than me. Even though I spent so long trying to look cute for you,” you stumble over your words as he keeps his hold on your waist. You don’t even notice that it was your turn to enter the bathroom when he sighs and escorts you inside, oblivious to the stares you got from stepping inside together.
He positions you so that you’re hunched over the toilet, his annoyingly long legs folded to keep you at eye level while he bunches your hair up. As your drunkenness wills, you expel the intoxication out of your system as Soobin wipes the sweat off your face and neck. When all is done, you look at him and weakly ask for toilet paper to wipe your face with, to which he takes it upon himself to do it for you, gingerly padding over your mouth and tear-stained cheeks.
“All okay?” Soobin asks as he throws the toilet paper away and tidies up the bathroom the best he could.
“Mhm,” you purr, latching onto his arm as he opens the door, receiving pointed stares from the people witnessing you step outside together. You were all oblivious to it, wanting nothing but to curl up into the heat his body tenders. He’s silent as you stumble over your feet, and yet he traces his arm back around your waist once more.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m taking you back.”
“But you haven’t even drank that much yet!”
“I’m not a heavy drinker.”
You sulk as he maneuvers you all the way back to your hotel room.
When he sets you down on the bed, your frown only gets deeper. He’s immediately rummaging through your bathroom, hurriedly asking where your cleansing wipes are before you succumb to slumber, and returns to your side albeit not telling him where it was. It’s funny, really, the way you could see yourselves falling into this routine in the future. A future that seems so out of reach, if only you wouldn’t be miles away from each other when all this is done.
“Stay still,” Soobin whispers, as if terrified of breaking through the air of tenderness sifting through your hotel room. He holds your face so delicately as he drags the makeup off of your lethargic state. He’s merely inches away and yet he seems so far from your reach.
“Soobin,” you let out, almost a pained, yearning whimper. You feel his fingers tremble against your cheek before he resumes his ministrations with a simple hum. “You’re even prettier up close.”
Maybe it’s the liquid courage. Maybe it’s all those talks with Karina. Maybe it’s the rare occurrence of you acting according to impulse– but you close the distance between the two of you, letting out a contented sigh as you feel his plump lips against yours.
The problem is Soobin stays unmoving.
You pull away, shame overcoming the entirety of your system.
“Soobin, I’m sor-”
“Good night,” he replies curtly.
All inebriety has fallen out of the window as you lay down, pulling the sheets all over yourself. You pray this was all just a dream. That you had actually dozed off as he was busying himself on tidying the makeup off your face.
The last thing you hear before sleep overcomes you are his faint footsteps and the clicking of your door.
page.soobin: let me know if you’re awake
: i bought painkillers for you
: i’ll come by then
It’s half past 3 in the afternoon when you awake from your slumber, groaning as you curse yourself for drinking like a maniac the previous night. You simply blink at Soobin’s texts, about to reply when you recall all the humiliation you put yourself in.
Fuck. Fuck. You’re fucked.
page.soobin: you awake?
: you have read receipts on by the way
Great.
: i just woke up
: it’s fine i can manage
: you don’t have to come over
page.soobin: stop
: at least let me take care of you
: i’m okay, soobin
: i swear
page.soobin: i’m still dropping by
: elevator rn
It all happens so quickly. One second you’re grimacing at the thought of seeing him in your disheveled and oh-so dreadfully humiliated state, and the next you’re opening the door for him. He’s dressed in a baggy shirt and shorts, hair disheveled as if he’s been running his hands through it the whole while.
“You should have gone out instead of worrying about my hungover,” you grumble under your breath, eyes not daring to land on him.
“Go out? Without you?” He says it like nothing significant happened between the two of you just hours ago.
“Yeah, I don’t know about that…”
Soobin puffs out a breath he’s been keeping for God knows how long.
“Listen-”
“We don’t have to talk about it, Soobin. I’m really sorry. We should just forget that ever happened and just go our separate ways for the rest of our days here.”
Your mind is in shambles as he stares blankly, debating what to say next.
“Please look at me.”
You can’t deny his request when his voice sounds like it’s about to break. When your eyes meet for the first time since last night, everything just comes crashing out on you. He’s staring so intently, you fear you’ll break upon his gaze.
“Did you mean it?”
“Mean what?”
“That you find me beautiful,” he pauses before adding, “That you tried to look pretty for me.”
You grimace at his prodding. “Why would I not mean it?”
“You were drunk.”
“Just because I’m drunk doesn’t mean I’m lying.”
Just like that, another awkward silence falls upon you. You could only hear his shallow breaths, like he was holding himself back. You pray he doesn’t hear the buzzing in your brain.
“I wanted to kiss you,” he professes matter-of-factly.
“You didn’t kiss me back.”
“I didn’t want our first kiss to be of us being drunk.”
You’re dumbfounded as you took in his feverish appearance.
“So, if you’ll let me,” he murmurs, “I’d like to have a do-over.”
This time, it wasn’t you who closed the distance between your lips. In a matter of seconds, all of you is filled with him. Soobin. Soobin, who didn’t want to make a move in fear of you not reciprocating. Soobin, who was patient enough to care for you in the most minuscule of ways. Soobin, who you have at the palm of your hand, giving you himself wholeheartedly. Soobin, who has yearned for you all this time.
His soft lips glide against yours so smoothly, his hands eventually slotting around the curve of your waist to pull you in closer. Kissing him felt like coming home. Pressed up against him is where you wanted to be forever.
Soobin pushes you to lay on the bed, with him following suit. He’s careful not to put his whole weight on you, but even so, you feel suffocated by the affection bubbling within you. He’s all yours, albeit just for this moment.
“Soob,” you manage to mewl out against the kisses he is peppering all over your collarbone.
“You alright, baby?” The endearment is enough to make your legs buckle around his waist, wanting to pull him in closer.
“More than alright,” you gasp as he grazes his teeth against your neck, leaving love bites. “I just can’t believe you’re mine today.”
He furrows his eyebrows, halting his actions, “Today?”
“Today,” you frown. “Last full day together and we’re back to our old lives.”
His eyes soften immediately, brushing the strands of hair from your face before he speaks, “It doesn’t have to be just today. I’m yours evermore.”
“But-”
“I’ll visit you every now and then. You can show me around your hometown, and I’ll fly you out to mine,” he traces his finger against your cheek, “And then you’ll meet Tori. I swear you’ll fall in love with her. And we’ll have all the time to ourselves.”
You snicker, “Do you say that to the girls back home too?”
Soobin chuckles in response, a low humming in his chest, “Home is with you.”
You feel like you’re going insane as you pull him in once more, so overwhelmed with the infatuation. Your kisses escalate from shy smacks to a full-blown makeout session, eliciting soft groans from the man looming above you. The way you touch each other feels as though you’re trying to memorize the feel of your bodies, your hands making their way to the skin of his chest under his shirt.
“Take it off if you want to, baby,” he prompts, half-teasing and half-desperate. You catch your breath before tugging on it, motioning for him to help you in pulling it over his head. Every part of him looks like it was sculpted by the gods so intricately. You really can’t believe he’s yours for the taking.
“You look like you’re about to devour me,” he teases.
“I am about to devour you.”
He moans at your words, taking you aback.
“You’re into that?”
“Only if it’s you.”
You don’t know how much time passes– all you know is that your clothes ended up on the floor and he’s inching his long fingers into your heat. His eyebrows are knit as he presses each knuckle to your walls, while you are left to whimper helplessly. His pace picks up, making your face scrunch up from the pleasure.
“Soo- baby, no,” you have a death grip on his arm, trying to stop him.
“Hurts?”
“No, good,” you swivel your hips, “Just want you inside.”
He gulps, a rush of heat going straight to his groin. “Condom?”
It’s irresponsible, really. Despite having previous experiences, you’ve never done it without. You don’t know why, but your brain compels you to heave in response, “No. I want all of you.”
“You’re going to be the death of me.”
“Death by dick seems pleasurable.”
Soobin almost can’t believe the humor laced in your words when he’s about to fuck the living daylights out of you, “Don’t die on me.”
He pulls himself out of his boxers, stroking himself. He’s achingly hard, and it took everything in you not to shoot up and beg him to let you have a taste.
“Soobin, you’re huge.”
“More surface area for me to love you with.”
You were about to shoot him a cringed out look when he guided his tip to your entrance. Both your faces scrunch up in pleasure despite the lack of penetration.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Baby,” your chest heaves, “I need you. I thought I made that clear.”
He beams, a stark contrast to him starting to inch through your insides. He’s biting his lip as he holds your hips down, “You’re- fuck.”
Your brain has officially melted into a puddle when he manages to fit everything inside. He gives you time to adjust to the intrusion, pecking your face all over. You swear this is the closest thing to paradise.
And he’s not far off. You notice how his knuckles are turning white from gripping your hips so tautly, trying to ground himself.
When you give him the signal to move, Soobin swears he could almost finish from the first thrust. He’s almost whining from the all-consuming pleasure, thrusts going from the softest brushes against your walls to calculated presses against the deepest parts of you. Soon enough, you’re babbling against his collarbone, leaving your own marks on his ivory skin. He’s yours, yours, yours.
“Fuck,” Soobin sobs, “I just want to stay like this forever.”
You can’t even bring yourself to respond verbally, resorting to clenching around him. His sobs grow even louder, hips unrelenting against yours. You wish you had met back in your hometown. You wish he was easily within your reach. You wish you had the liberty of being tangled up with him for the rest of your life. You don’t want to let him go. What can you do when the only person you’ve allowed yourself to feel everything and anything for lives oceans away?
“Baby,” your voice is weak as you scratch up his back, tugging on his nape. “About to cum.”
This only eggs him on faster, now slamming his hips roughly as he chases your orgasm. “F-fuck. I-inside?”
You hum, locking your legs tighter around his waist, “Nowhere else. N-need to have a piece of you with- in me before we fly back tomorrow.”
Your words seem to do wonders for Soobin. Your orgasm hits you at the same time he spills his warmth deep inside. You would’ve teased him about how he came so much if you weren’t twitching from the aftershocks of your release. He stays inside as the two of you unwind, him drawing circles against your hips, trying to soothe it from his death grip from earlier.
“You alright?” he mumbles against your neck, lapping at it gently. You hum in response, running your fingers through his tousled hair. You lay in silence, relishing in each other’s body warmth under the covers. He kisses the top of your head from time to time, breathing in your scent.
“I smell like vomit,” you grimace.
“You smell like sex.”
You roll your eyes, “That too. But I’m too lazy to take a shower. Just want to be with you.”
He taps your thigh, smirking, “Just say you want to take a shower with me.”
And that, you did. He takes his time with you, locking you in his embrace as the water simmers through your bare bodies. Mundane as it is, you bask in the feel of his body pressed against yours. You’d do anything to live in this moment eternally.
When it was time to fly back home, it took everything in you not to lock yourself inside Soobin’s luggage. You had walked hand in hand, waiting for each other’s flights back home. He kept kissing your knuckles, hushing sweet nothings. When your flight had been announced for boarding, you had cried in his arms, desperately wanting to take him with you. Soobin, ever the mediator, kisses the top of your head, promising to be by your side in a few months’ time. You don’t dare to look back when you enter the gate. You’re scared you’ll fall into another fit of sobs.
It’s been 5 months since, and you’re lounging on your couch, waiting for Soobin’s daily good morning message. He had been consistent in giving you even the smallest details of his life, the highlight of each of your days being the video call you hop on for your debriefings until you fall asleep.
soob ♡: good morning
: the heat is killing me
Your face lights up as his name pops up on your screen.
: good morning <3
: it’s 17° in seoul though?
soob ♡: wanna see something funny?
: baby it’s too early for your league of legends gameplay
soob ♡: heyyy :(
: but please say yes
: this isn’t related to league i swear
: ?
: okay yes i wanna know something funny
soob ♡: okay maybe this is borderline creepy instead of funny
: [Sent a photo attachment.]
You shriek as you open the photo, feet immediately waddling over to your front door.
There he is.
Soobin has a large grin on his face when his eyes land on you, a bouquet of lilies in his hand extended towards you. Even so, your favorite flowers dull in comparison to your favorite boy. The bouquet is all forgotten on the ground when you run to his embrace, one that you’ve been longing for. You don’t care if the neighbors could hear your squealing throughout the apartment hallway. He’s here. He’s here. He’s here, and he’s finally all yours.
TEAR INTO YOU 🔪 𓄹
you’re down, and you’re pleading, what a wonderful feeling.
──── ၇͜ᩘ 𔒌 ﹔ pairing — ghostface!cbg x ‘victim’!reader
SYNOPSIS ⧽ beomgyu often went by unnoticed around the college campus, even through the recent killings— he was just some weird kid from your class, though you never particularly interacted, he knew you very well. your life was considerably boring, very much so. until halloween—when beomgyu gave you something to feel aside from boredom and ordinances.
WARNINGS MDNI college!au, ghostface!bg, stalking behaviors, mentions of blood, action and violence, smut, knifeplay, breath play, chasing, homicide and torture (both only mentioned), dubious content, degradation, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, sex while bleeding (nothing too serious), nipple sucking, dacryphilia, rough sex, dirty talk, mean!bg, creampie, overstimulation, fighting scenes, hair pulling, humiliation, pussy slapping, slight breeding kink if you squint, little to no plot, PURE FILTH.
ᜆ wc ﹔ 12k
HALLOWEEN HAD ALWAYS been the kind of date you looked forward to before your twenties, fall meant only one thing to your kid mind— trick or treat. Your knuckles meet the solid of the wood while the houses around you glimmered and shone with all kinds of decorations. The lively and nearly hypnotic atmosphere never failed to mesmerize you while your bag got filled with all kinds of candies. It was the only night where you felt cold in your costume you felt pretty in and was okay with it, the only night where people could look creepy or weird without anyone questioning it.
That was what you liked about halloween as a kid.
But you’re twenty two now, nothing is the same. Maybe some minuscule things, like how your mom still checks up on you from time to time and shows up with soup at your door whenever you’re sick. But the big things always change, especially as an adult now. You weren’t necessarily the genius kid in your family that kept your family proud, that was your sister, Ruka. You both took very different paths when it came to your choices post high school, and because you were never really that tight with academics, your life revolved around a very frustrating nine to five dealing with customers that seemed to be getting shittier day by day while also trying to make it through college–honestly, just something to maybe try to get a better job after graduation.
Ruka, however? She kept studying after high school, and ended up in the top university in the entirety of Korea. Seoul University. Oftentimes, and not that you complained or felt anything akin to hatred towards her— this was your choice. She overshadowed you, and even if your parents insisted that it was a mere figment of your imagination, everyone including you could see the blatant favoritism they had for your sister.
However, ever since you graduated high school with only decent grades, you decided that you wouldn’t mourn about what you didn’t do. You didn’t want to grow up to be miserable, if you were here, you might as well put in some kind of effort to keep on living. Even if.. your situation right now wasn’t the best.
Things have been different for the past couple of months, too. The air was tight, almost stale as the flickering lights from the gas station nearby the store flickered onto the dimly lit store. You didn’t take yourself for easily scared, especially considering how you watched horror movies religiously. However, you have started to be particularly watchful lately. The news often flickered on to a journalist talking about recent, brutal murders. Victims gutted out, countless stab wounds, many possible suspects and yet no predictable motive. Ghostface costumes were sold worldwide, Halloween was coming up soon–the perfect season for murderous killings in a costume. The fucker was really good, too. No leads, just slipped in and out unnoticed.
The annoying and lingering noise buzz that came from one of the machines in the convenience store seemed to drill itself into your brain, and despite many of the workers that like you, came here to work part time having outwardly expressed the animadversion for the object, the owner of the store never bothered to change it. Your head felt like a ticking bomb as you held a bottle of soju a customer insisted on shoving into your hands, the loud and furious voice that came from the teenager— clearly not even past seventeen, piled up in your brain.
“Miss, I’m not going to say this again.” Interrupting her fit with furrowed eyebrows, the girl seemed even more upset with her tantrum being cut off short like you didn’t give a shit; to which her thoughts probably were right, you didn’t. All you wanted to do was finish this shitty shift and go home to your apartment that was practically falling apart in pieces. It wasn’t much, but it was home. Even if the landlord wasn’t the best either.
Shit, you really had to get your life together.
“If you don’t have an ID or present one to me, there’s no way I can sell you this. I’m not going to say this again, but my apologies, I am not selling this product to you no matter how much of a kid you decide to act in front of me.”
You set the bottle of soju on the counter in front of you, arms crossed and eyes swimming around, not even bothering to look at the girl in front of you who huffed and stomped her feet. Your feet thudded repeatedly and lightly against the same material of the floor, jaw clenched and teeth gritted. Your manners that you had learnt while your boss told you about customer service ages ago are useless now, like a piece of paper you throw inside a drawer and forget about.
Finally, seconds inside that silence that felt suffocating in its heavy wake, the girl gave up shooting lasers into your skin. Grabbing the bottle of soju and disappearing along the off-white aisles you sadly had gotten yourself used to by now. Not long after, without even batting a glance to the door, the bell chimed above the glass— old and rusted, sounding rather deafening and whiny. The door clicked shut after a couple of series of creaking, and you were left alone once again to your own presence.
Your head was pressed into your palm by now, elbows propped up into the wood material in front of you. Eyes swimming around the store to meet the clock that chimed softly above one of the beverage coolers, the long legs of the clock seemed immensely useless due to how slow it was moving. Tongue clicking against your teeth in a soft manner, you grumbled something unintelligible. Three minutes until you could finally clock out of your shift and go home, and at least you weren’t going to come in tomorrow, considering Halloween was your favorite holiday.
And it’s not like you had immense plans, anyway. All you wanted to do was to melt your bag of aching bones into your bed and binge watch self deemed scary movies until you were snoring away in a bed full of popcorn crumbs. It sounded like heaven to your weary brain.
So caught in the dreams that pricked into your half awake mind, you barely noticed the bell above the old, rusted door chime once again. The door opened rather slowly, but you didn’t bat an eye towards the person that came in. By now, you didn’t care. All you wanted to do was clock out and go home, and hopefully be able to catch a few episodes of your favorite series before you slept.
The footsteps were eerily quiet, this person surely knew how to be discreet for whatever reason. It was akin to being in the company of a ghost, and so your gaze drifted to the door that had been open not many seconds ago. The sun was already kissing the horizon, a hue of pink, blue, and oranges painted the sky as the dark azure seemed to overpower it not long after. It was like having an artist spill coffee on a perfect piece of canvas, but having it still turn into a masterpiece. The scenario made your eyelashes droop without your consent, nearly sleeping while on your feet— it would be nice.
“Shouldn’t someone who’s being paid to be here put at least the minimal effort?” A lower, and somewhat warm feeling voice ringed in your ears. It took you out of your trance and near sleep, making you blink the appearing remnants of it away as you turned to face your likely last customer of the day. He was familiar, but not familiar enough for you to match a face to a name, let alone to a voice. The remark didn’t help much— you felt the annoyance creep into the back of your mind before forcing the smallest smile out of you, albeit it looked incredibly false. “We’re all human, aren’t we? Feeling tired is part of the package when you have to spend all day dealing with..” shitty people, inconveniences, loud people that did little to ease your headache were what you wanted to say, “things.” Came out instead, deciding on not spilling some work things to some guy that just decided being an initial nuisance through his words.
“If you didn’t want to deal with this, then maybe you should’ve put the work beforehand to be somewhere better.” You heard him say in a measured way, almost precise, like he knew what he wanted his words to do. You forced your smile wider, in a way that it made your eyes somewhat smaller and crinkle at the corners. “And you shouldn’t be trying to slot your way into the life of someone you don’t even know.” You’d have spat the words out if it weren’t for your barely-hanging-on self control, it was like the last customers of the day always felt hellbent into making your mood straight up shit.
“You can stop smiling, you know. Even someone who needs glasses would be able to see from afar how fake it is.” A fool’s sacrifice was to smile at someone while being incredibly indignant. “How are you so sure I don’t know you?”
The question sounded incredibly firm for it to be a joke, your smile instantly dropped but not to be upset, but because in the throaty sound it made a shiver creep on the back of your spine. Great, he was not only infuriating, but a creep. Your eyes finally darted from the black of the cash register towards the guy to analyze him— he didn’t look much older than you, maybe he just had a peculiar knack for frightening people.
The face definitely didn’t fit the creepy words at first, the boy seemed like someone rather.. fitting into the ‘dreamy and boyish’ category, like some people would say. A shaggy, black wolf-cut down to his shoulders, with bangs that seemed scattered across messily but they did him justice to frame his face incredibly well. But before you could even further go into picking his appearance apart, you decided to retort so he wouldn’t make any more comments. “Because as far as I know, my life is not that appealing for someone to be taking notes of.”
You gave him a mere shrug, focusing more on placing the items on a bag before placing them like a memorized routine, to which it was, on the counter in front of you. He didn’t say anything further, either. Just stared, and despite the forming discomfort, you brushed it off. “Your total is 10,000 ₩, is there anything else I can help you with?”
“No.” Curt, straight to the point. The rustle of the plastic bag came soon enough as he slid the money towards you without a second thought, handing him the receipt, you watched him turn his back to you. Finally, “If you think your life isn’t that appealing, then maybe you should consider that someone wouldn’t look into your life, but into you as a person.”
Or not.
Without any other words, he left the store just how he left you slightly jaw slacked, standing there not only completely creeped out, but with a weird feeling forming on the pit of your stomach. It tightened in a fast coil, and time seemed to lose its definition for a few seconds before you shook it off. “Great, just what I needed before my shift ended. A very likely college stuck up trying to scare me.” You grumbled under your breath, and it was what you wanted to believe. Even if it was very far from the truth.
Shuffling around, you placed some things back into their deserving aisles. Sweeping the floor until it was spotless enough you could mop, at least it did something to your legs that were already starting to cramp up from being so unmoving. It took another half an hour of your time until you were done, standing in the chilly air outside and twisting the key to lock the store. The keys were slid into your bag so you could finally sling it over your shoulders, right above your leather jacket that warmed up your skin that insisted on getting cold beneath the pressure of the cold weather.
Unbeknownst to you, the guy that was so insistent on leaving goosebumps on your skin and a shiver that seemed to creep under your spine never left. He left the store, however he knew the habit you had of never looking at where your customers went. He wouldn’t be an exception just because he managed to leave you weirded out, it was why he was right on the side of the building— holding the same bag you handed to him not moments ago. Cup ramen, Beomgyu wasn’t even the biggest fan of cup ramen, but it was an excuse to have you so nearby for the first time. It was all because he knew you wouldn’t bat an eye to a guy suspiciously saying weird things, because you wouldn’t be far too exhausted for your brain to comprehend.
It was cute, amusing. Behind the window and right behind the fabric of the curtain that covered his form on the outside of the building, he watched you for all of the thirty minutes you were engrossed in your work. The way your body seemed to rely on the mop you were using to clean, like it was leading the dance and you were following— his eyes watched all of it.
Matter of fact, Beomgyu can safely say that tomorrow, exactly tomorrow, it would have been a month since he started to watch you without you even knowing. Not paying attention to life, just moving day by day. Through college, through the hallways cramped and full of people where sweat and sickeningly sweet perfume and laughter mixed. And you? Despite claiming to be such a sucker for horror movies couldn’t even place the fact you had a stalker.
Your apartment was by now used to every weak groan you’d let out upon stumbling by the doorframe, door flying open so slowly as if every drop of your energy had been drained out of you. Your shoes came out, by now, too dirty. You used them far too much to your liking, it would be no surprise if one day they grew their own pair of legs and started walking without you being in remote control of them. Hair now messed up by the wind, you tugged your hands not so gently through the unkempt strands. Stomach growling beneath the fabric of your clothing, you swore you’d start to be upset over your body’s own demands. Days like these were always the worst kind for you, and you settled for a first; take a boiling warm shower to take away the tension in your bones.
The foggy heat of the bathroom made it seem like a sauna, your hair that you were previously fighting against to make it sit still on your scalp was now settled and sticking to your back. You had already finished everything you had to, hair washed with a shampoo that you used so much of this specific brand you swore you were more loyal to it than how some people were loyal to their partners. Anyone would complain about the steam in the room, not you, though. The air was freezing outside, the box of your bathroom felt like a safe bubble.
You pressed your head against the wall of the shower, both hands covering your face before you rubbed it along with your eyes. A sigh of relief and procrastination on whether or not to leave the heaven found in the liquid dropping onto you left you— but you knew you wouldn’t want a more expensive water bill, so your fingers wrapped themselves against the level that was just as warm as your skin was, and turned it off.
Wrapping yourself against the towel that already partially did its job in absorbing some of the water droplets on your skin, you opened the bathroom door only to shiver all over again. Your apartment was warm, that was for sure, but the bathroom was so much warmer that the normal heat you found cozy around the place made goosebumps appear all over again.
The fabric of your pajamas wrapped around your frame, movements slow and steady- a bit delayed in their wake, you took your time navigating across your too small bedroom, even for only one person. At least you had a roof over your head, you didn’t want to complain much.
Brows scrunched up in concentration to finally treat your hair gently, you brushed it to leave it neat despite knowing that without blow drying it, the air would make it slightly frizzy nevertheless. It was a rather mundane task, one that you did without paying much attention to your surroundings.
That was until you felt the weird feeling of having someone observing you.
It must have been your imagination, sometimes exhaustion did things to you. The only problem was that you didn’t like feeling things for too long, and after some more seconds passed, you set down your hairbrush and looked around your room. Call it paranoia, but considering the weird things that have been happening lately, you couldn’t help it. Checking every little spot in your room for cameras, you faintly recall in the back of your head the news flashing on the TV of the store day by day last week. In a span of a week, not many breaks between, four people have died. You wondered who the hell could even be the killer–however it was, they were a bit too good at this. Too good for your own liking.
You shook your head after you finished your research, no cameras, and you still felt like there was something there. And either you were just really being paranoid, or..
Your body turned around to face your window, the curtains barely even closed. The outside was dark, you couldn’t see much outside, and if you couldn’t see, there was no possible way someone out there could be watching you back.
That was a thought you really wanted to believe.
Grasping one of the curtains to peek outside, squinting to try to catch anyone or anything there, your body jumped as a shriek left you. And it wasn’t from seeing someone, but the buzzing of your phone against the nightstand startled the feeling of paranoia. Your nerves were high, and maybe you were just too tired and with too many worries piled up. You pressed both ends of the curtains together, but not before fully shutting the blinds.
The contact flashing on your phone screen was all too familiar, eyes rolling somewhat because you didn’t want to pick up, but with a hint of fondness Ruka would never know of. “What do you want now?” You didn’t waste much time asking, plopping yourself down on the bed next to you, one leg being placed over the other as your body leaned back, supported by one hand that was firm on the mattress behind you.
“Not even a hi? Since when have you gotten so cold?” Ruka said with a whiny tinge in her voice, you could only playfully scoff at that.
“Since you only started to call me to first ask for favors and only after asking me about life. It’s like a routine, you know.” You joked but not in an unkind way, practically being able to form the image of Ruka pouting and looking away. “Just say it, what do you want now? You don’t normally call me at ungodly hours.”
“It’s not even that late!” Ruka retorted, and through the short silence of her own contemplation, you could hear whispering in the background. She certainly wasn’t alone. “So.. tomorrow, we’re having a party and—“
“Absolutely not.” You cut in before she could even finish her sentence.
“Wait, why?! I know you’re free from work tomorrow, and no offense, your friends are more concerned in going to bars to which you barely even set foot on nowadays, so what else could you possibly be doing? And you didn’t even let me finish my sentence..” She trailed off towards the end, and judging by how she sounded, she really was expecting you to help.
“I don’t need you to finish your sentence to know you were about to ask me to help you with your party, i’m not going to help exactly because tomorrow is my break. I need some resting days too, y’know.”
“But you can party better than anyone else! Well, at least you used to be able to.. What happened to the girl who would sneak out of the house and ask me to cover for her if mom and dad asked?”
You let out a hushed chuckle under your hand, allowing yourself to finally lie down fully against the bed. “That was during High School, Ruka. I’m not the same nowadays.” You shook your head, and quite frankly, you weren’t lying. You had too many things to worry about since adulthood knocked on the door of your irresponsible teenage self.
“You’re going to die old and cranky if you keep acting like this.” Ruka sang through the line that cut off, making the noise a bit static, your crappy wifi was about to be the actual death of you.
“Well, I’ll make sure to have fun while aging and getting cranky. Hey, maybe I’ll even be one of those old women chasing kids off of my lawn during Halloween in a couple of years.”
While Ruka tried to get her point across through the failing connection, you actually gave her idea some thought. You could help, just not stick around for the party. Halloween used to be really important to you during your younger years, and now that Ruka could finally properly celebrate it like any other person without being stuck in her room studying..
“And I really think you should becau-“
“Ruka, I’m teasing.” You suddenly revealed, even if it was a lie, with a light laughter that followed afterwards.
“You cut me off again! Wait, actually?! You are so, so.. God! You could’ve just said yes.” Ruka said in a rather exasperated voice, but deep down, you knew she felt grateful. While in the background, you could hear other girls finally letting out their breaths in relief and cheering loudly.
You clicked your tongue. “Do you want me to change my mind?”
“No! No, absolutely not! Sorry, I still love you.”
“What I thought.” Your eyes rolled at the reply, but you didn’t complain. Instead, you decided to concern yourself with the actual matter at hand. “When do you want me to come by? Is the party going to be at the house?”
“Yeah, mom and dad will be out for a week, so..” this was very unlike Ruka, but again, she was finding out things about herself. Seeing her act like your teenage self made a tinge of pride pull at you.
“Aww, you’re becoming just like me.” You cooed, almost rolling your eyes at your own words.
“God, no–you wish! I just want to live a little, and you know how it feels. Come by at three tomorrow, don’t be late! Every minute counts. Thanks for the help. I love you so much Y/N.”
“You really don’t need to be drowning me in praise, first thing’s first, I know. Secondly, I won’t be late. I’ll just make sure to drop by tomorrow.” You reassured, however you still felt the warmth coat you. Despite never being too much of an example to Ruka growing up, being near her still made you happy nowadays. Sometimes it felt like making up for the gap in the sisterly relationship you two were meant to have. “Bye, night. I love you too.” And the line went dead with three beeps of the connection cutting off.
Your plans of rotting in bed all day for Halloween were officially thrown out the window.
THE FOLLOWING DAY came quicker than you wanted it to, the sun peeking in through the weak fabric of the curtains, however it didn’t ease the cold breeze that whirled and howled outside. The golden tints that came from the rays of the sun reached your face, the light prying your eyes open. You couldn’t hear the usual chirp of the birds coming from outside like they would do every morning, they never missed their cue. Which could only mean one thing; you slept in.
Now, you were well aware of the fact that you didn’t have work today, and classes would be later on in the day–so, you were fine. Sitting up on the bed, you stretched your limbs sore and tender from sleep. Legs swinging over the side of the bed, you tried to make sense of your well known surroundings. Finally, grasping your phone, you took a look at the time that marked two in the afternoon, shit. You really did sleep a lot.
That was when you remembered about your deal with your sister, her serious and firm voice saying ‘don’t be late’ rang in your mind— that’s when you tossed your phone back in your messy bed and ran towards the bathroom.
Clothes flew around the bedroom, the bed being made but still having its definitely not neat air to it, you merely grabbed some money for coffee on the way out before hitting the street. Like expected, the lines were crazy during this day in particular. It took most of your time, and when you finally reached your parents’ house, it was around 3:20. You blamed the insanely and unnecessarily long line.
“I told you to not be late! God.. whatever, just come in.” Ruka hurried you in as if you just had nearly missed the most important event of your life, and it seemed really important to her, so you couldn’t blame her reaction. Especially considering she had always been a perfectionist.
“The coffee line was unnecessarily long, you know how things are when it comes to Halloween.” You replied a little unbothered, setting the half empty cup of coffee on the furniture piece next to the door before taking a look around the house, picturing mentally how you could make this look good. “Do you have decor?”
“Yeah, me and the girls went out a few hours ago to buy everything. They’re in the kitchen sorting cocktails and food, you and me are in charge of decoration duty.” Ruka explained as she dragged you by the arm towards the living room, and she wasn’t exaggerating when she said to buy everything, it was safe to say the living room was practically swimming in ornaments and decoration pieces.
It was definitely more than enough to decorate the incredibly huge house.
The next few hours were slinging things over furniture, getting yourself stuck to fake cobwebs around the low ceilings, and adjusting objects everywhere. It was extremely boring, not only boring, but it was tiring to see that the objects filling the living room seemed endless. Even if it was you and Ruka, and eventually the girls who had finished their job in the kitchen, it was like the decoration they got would never end.
Minutes shifted to hours, and after three hours of finding mistakes and tripping over things you left scattered haphazardly on the floor, the decoration was complete. By now, the sun was kissing the end of the horizon goodbye so the sky’s new lover could come and steal the spotlight, people and kids more importantly, were already filling the streets. Ruka and the girls were adjusting the foods and cocktails all over the tables, you were setting aside cups and plates to leave on each desk neatly, rather proud of yourself.
“Y/N, seriously, I have to really thank you for the help you gave us. We had no idea from when to start and everything just looks amazing! I don’t know how you do it, but you definitely do it well.” Said your sister as she sauntered into the room, a grin that stretched from ear to ear on her face already before she stopped five steps short of you. “You’re going to stay, right? For the party?” Ruka pried suddenly, looking at you expectantly. She was already standing in her costume, she was matching with one of her friends, Pharita.
A black corset hugging her features just the right way, with a puffed up skirt that had some transparent fabric just to add volume. One of her gloved hands was adorned by silk with intricate details, a crown made by feathers on her head just around the neat bun she had pinned to the back of her head. And lastly to her outfit, she had a pair of angel wings that were meant to imitate a swan. The straps of that part of the costume around her shoulders.
Her makeup was no less gorgeous, a mix of light and dark eyeshadows accentuating her eyes, makeup done to lift her facial features. She looked nothing short of stunning.
“That wasn’t in our deal, and you know it.” You suddenly said, picking up the cups and plates, starting to move rooms while the soft clicks of her low heels followed behind.
“But you’re already here, might as well stay, right? What fun is there to just stay in your bedroom doing nothing?” Ruka insisted behind you, really, she did want you to stick around to have, even if you two weren’t around each other all the time, some of each other’s Halloween together.
“I’d be a stranger at your party, Ruka. I don’t know half of the people that are coming in.” You shook your head, but not solemn. You didn’t mind going home, but you didn’t mind staying. However, mingling with a group of people, especially a big group of people, didn’t sit well on your gut. Especially since yesterday.
“Come on, it’ll be fun! Plus.. I have a nice costume that I got just for you yesterday. I really thought convincing you to help would make you stay.”
Now she was just picking at your emotional side, it was just mean.
But how could you resist? Some fun couldn’t possibly hurt anyone, right?
“You know what? Fine.” You caved in as you gave some final touches to the table, turning to Ruka with an interested gleam in your eye. “Show me the costume.”
Ruka practically beamed, hugging you, and you were sure that if the room wasn’t overly decorated, she would have spun you around. Instead, she settled for the bear hug that afterwards turned into dragging you around once again. This time, to the guest room. “Now, I wasn’t too sure what you like. But I even got you the things to do your makeup, I based this off of how you really liked saw as a teenager and..”
Before even finishing her sentence, Ruka opened the door hurriedly, completing her excited movements by shoving you inside the room.
“You’re joking, you remember that?” Amanda from saw had been one of your Halloween costumes, she used to be one of your absolute favorites to dress up as. Even if the costume was shitty back in the day, it didn’t make it less fun.
“Where the hell did you get this from?” Your laughter bordered in disbelief as you reached for the headpiece, it was uncanny how real it looked. It wasn’t that heavy, it was surprisingly light. But it was extremely realistic.
“My friend works with these kinds of things” Ruka said with a shrug that belied the dimples forming on her face due to her smile.
“You for sure know how to convince me to do things.”
“I’m your sister, of course I do.” Ruka said as if it was the most obvious thing, and quite frankly, it was. “Now go change and do your makeup, me and the girls have to go somewhere to grab something we forgot real quick. Well, maybe not real quick, it’s far. But the party doesn’t start until a few minutes later, you can just have some of the snacks we hid in the kitchen and watch something while we don’t arrive.” Leaving no other room for argument, Ruka finally left, leaving you alone with the costume and your own creativity.
It didn’t turn out bad, not at all, actually. You stood in front of your mirror and picked apart the costume until you were satisfied. The makeup became neatly smudged, the tights hugging your legs comfortably and yet it couldn’t help but make you feel good enough to blend in with kids from the university. You opted for not having the reversed bear trap headpiece on yet, not when you would be just lounging by yourself.
Or so you thought, at least.
The house was eerily quiet now, the laughter of the girls completely gone due to them having left the house a few minutes ago. Like Ruka suggested, you grabbed a couple of snacks hidden away at the back of your refrigerator so no one else could potentially find them, even though there wasn’t really someone else to keep them company aside from each other.
Sitting on the couch with a satisfied noise, your hand reached for the remote not too far from you. Clicking between the endless channels, you finally settle on a classic; Scream. You hadn’t watched the movies since you were eighteen, but they somehow never lost the interest of watching it. You decided to watch the first one, far too old with a shitty quality in the program of the television, but it was better than nothing. The moon rising outside casting over the floor through the window with the scent of cinnamon apple candles that overtook the house created a cozy atmosphere, almost as if the party that would be held wasn’t about to ruin how nice things looked.
Barely halfway into the movie however, was when you felt.. an odd shift. Now, you have watched the scream movies enough times to know that you aren’t supposed to feel watched during them. Your eyes flickered over to the other room next to the kitchen, hearing the house telephone ring. You gave one last glance to the scene that you paused on, the exact same scene where the poor blonde girl was frightened inside of her house without a way to defend herself.
With your steps rather lazy and easy, not in a hurry, you picked up the phone. If it were your sister, she would call through your phone. Same went for your parents, so you weren’t particularly worried if the call ended before you even got to the ringing object.
“Hello?” Your voice went across the phone pressed to the side of your face, and for a while, it was silent. You would’ve guessed it was a prank call, it was Halloween, after all. However as you were about to hang up along with the click of your tongue, the caller finally spoke.
“Hello.” They said back, and you found yourself not only being taken aback by the clear voice modifier used since the voice was absurdly husky and rough, but intrigued. Once again, silence seemed to reign for another good seconds.
“Are you going to tell me why you called, or do I have to hang up on you?” You teased slightly, still entirely convinced this was a prank call.
“So straight forward.. I like it.” The voice said immediately, like the thought of you hanging up on them was absurd. “Is Ruka at home?”
Like any other person would, some would just say no, and that the person left. This could also be one of Ruka’s friends, but was it really Halloween if you did things the original way? “Why do you wanna know? For all I care, you could be a killer trying to pass through her older sister first.” You countered, picking your bottom lip between your teeth to stifle a laugh.
“So protective too, you really could be someone’s type. I wanted to ask about the party.”
“Treat me to dinner first if you’re going to be hitting on me.” Playfully demanding, you shifted to lean against the wall. Maybe this wouldn’t be such a short call.
“You called the right person too, what do you wanna know?”
“I got my time confused, at what time is the party again?” The caller asked, finally, a normal question. But you likely mentally jinxed it since the caller seemed way more interested in you. “Ruka’s sister, you say?”
Eyeing the old grandfather clock that stood next to the kitchen cabinets, so old that it probably would have popping joints considering how badly it creaked, you made an estimate on time. “Ah.. in like, about fifty minutes or so.” But instead of hanging up, you felt weirdly.. attracted to what the caller had to say. You already had somewhat of a feeling that it wasn’t just for Ruka, or for the party. “Her big sister, yes. I helped decorate everything. Are you one of her friends? Or from Seoul University?”
“Something like that.” The person on the other end of the line hummed, you noted that they probably weren’t much of a talker. “She mentions you from time to time.” Now that was enough to keep you in the line, you wouldn’t take Ruka for someone who would talk about you to strangers. Especially since you saw each other only on very rare occasions or whenever she reached out to you. “Does she, now? Are we talking about the same Ruka?” You sounded perplexed, but in reality you were just curious. That earned a chuckle that came out as just weird static due to the voice modifiers you could so clearly spot. “What does she say about me, hm?”
“Well,” The caller started off, taking a deep breath as if thinking. This was definitely just bullshit, and while you knew it was, you stayed put. “She talks about how you really like partying, she was really counting on you this Halloween. She mentions how you work at a convenience store, cheap nine-to-five, and..” before tension could even form, the last part was added after the pause as if to create anxiety. You could pinpoint that much, at least. “That you like scary movies.”
Coincidence, you mentally told yourself as you gazed quickly towards the paused screen of the television. “Geez, you know more about me than any stranger should. But.. you’re not wrong. What point are you trying to make?”
“I really like the one you’re watching right now.” And it was like the atmosphere had shifted, lips parting and brows furrowing, your earlier paranoia from the day before seemed to start to act up as you glanced quickly towards the windows. You made sure they were all shut, curtains equally just as closed to cover you from prying eyes. “Scream is a lovely movie, especially the latest one. You have taste.”
The voice of the caller was low, sickeningly sweet in a way knots formed on the pit of your stomach. “Nice joke, if you see me at the party, make sure to hit me up so I can congratulate you. If you even manage to recognize me.”
“You make a great Amanda, Y/N.” That was all it took to make you freeze over, paralyzed by the phone once again.
“What the fuck?” You weren’t sure if this was a prank anymore, or whether to feel extremely scared or weirded out. Your eyes swept the room once more, and now, not only the room and objects in it felt eerily still, but the air seemed to pause. Like at any moment, inside this vast house, some guy or girl could jump from the hidden corners you grew to know too well and stab you to death.
It chilled you down to your core.
“Alone on a Halloween night, you know about the murders too, don’t you? You watch so many movies about slashers, and yet you don’t know that you shouldn’t stay alone inside such a big house? Especially on this day.”
You immediately shut the voice out by slamming the phone carelessly back in its place, maybe you weren’t being paranoid after all. It made sense–feeling watched since yesterday. You tried to possibly pinpoint who it could be, for sure, it could be someone coming to the party tonight. Your mind flickered back to the boy from yesterday, weirdly curious and even more weird than he was curious. But the girl before him was also an option, she seemed pissed as hell when you didn’t allow her to buy soju.
Your feet finally found their own mind to move, nerves starting to be on the edge as you tried to find your phone that earlier you left on the cushions of the couch, only to find out it wasn’t there. Your memory was bad, but it wasn’t bad to the point you’d forget where you left one of your most treasured belongings.
“You have to be fucking kidding me.” But instead of annoying, your voice left as a breathy, low noise. Heart thudding impossibly faster as you went to check the front door.
If you thought your heartbeat was bad now, it skyrocketed when you saw the lock flipped horizontally. Unlocked. Open for anyone to come in.
“Shit, fucking hell.” You murmured to yourself, it was useless when you flipped the metal of the lock vertically, and you knew it. But your brain needed any kind of reassurance as you stepped over to the phone that had started to ring once again.
You hadn’t seen the costumes Ruka’s friends were wearing, all you knew is that her and Pharita were matching the black and white swan, but you hadn’t seen the others. Maybe it was just them playing a prank on you, it would explain the overly used voice modifiers.
“Ruka, whatever joke you’re playing, this isn’t funny anymore.” You snapped at the phone, hands clammy and sweaty.
You felt like you were a lamb waiting for the slaughter, vulnerable, useless. Helpless.
You hated feeling helpless. But you had no true way out, the party wasn’t happening for a few good minutes and you knew how unpunctual teenagers were. You weren’t too sure of how many people were walking outside this particular neighborhood, but you knew that stepping outside was as much of a death sentence as staying inside was. You had no choice, not when you didn’t know where the self proclaimed killer was.
“You always have acted like you hated helpless horror movie characters, and now you’re just like one of them. In your own movie, but you don’t know how to leave this situation?” The person taunted.
You felt your blood boil to the point of exploding, but your anxiety coated that like putting out a fire. “What do you want from me?”
“Y/N, you should have checked the door after your sister left.” The caller said teasingly, before asking something that left the hairs in your arms standing. “Alright, answer this for me. How long do you think I’ve been inside this house already?”
Before you could retort, call the person names, or even react, the call disconnected. “The only day I get off of work to have fun, this happens. Real fucking funny.”
You hated the way your legs felt like jelly, and your first thought instead of the kitchen was grabbing the reverse bear trap head prop that was meant for your costume as an extra weapon. It wasn’t that heavy, but the parts used could do some damage if swung heavily enough. And then you went into the kitchen, only to find all of the knives that your mom neatly organized and insisted that were kept clean were gone. You weren’t alone all along, maybe Ruka and her friends have been having company, after all.
Your breath had significantly accelerated, and all you did was move quickly around the house. The sweat started to form on your forehead, not enough to drip but just enough that some hair started to stick to it. It wasn’t because you were hot, but because you started to feel genuine fear.
It was like being in the company of a ghost, you genuinely couldn’t hear any footsteps, and that’s what was immensely making you agitated. Head whipping back and forth between the two entrances of the kitchen, you heard a noise in one of them. Obviously, you weren’t going to check, you weren’t dumb enough for that. So you backed up into the room that was most silent, the only audible noise in the house being the buzzing in your ears accompanied by the heavy thud of your heart and your elaborated breathing. The other room was dark, but it felt safer than checking the other one out. You kept backing up, unsure when to stop. Eyes fixated on the other dark part of the house, for now uncharted.
You were never safe with someone who knew your habits more than you did.
You felt hands wrapping around you, one covering your mouth, the other gripping your wrist so tight it might as well snap under the pressure. Even in the dark, you could catch the metal glint of the obviously very sharp blade. Whoever this was, they clearly wanted you not only dead, but impaled on the knife. You twisted and squirmed on the few seconds you managed to get, they were frantic, but crucial to your survival. The knife swished close to your thigh, cutting the fabric of the tights you were wearing open in a clean motion, and cutting the surface of the plush skin to draw beads of blood.
Maybe it was the sheer thirst for survival despite living a shitty life, but you broke yourself free by head butting the attacker with the back of your head. That was how you figured out they were wearing a mask, the features felt solid and hard against your skull. It was like you did more damage to yourself than you did to the other.
Your vision swam as the pain settled, but your legs moved faster than your reactions, rushing out of the room. But you very obviously wouldn’t be left alone as your attacker seemed to eat up the steps between you two. They were fast.
Unnecessarily fast.
So when they dove on the floor and grabbed your ankle, you knew you were an immediate goner. The contact of the wooden floor against your face so carelessly ripped out a loud groan from you, the metallic taste of blood covered your mouth from the slow waterfall of blood starting to drip from the aching mess that became your nose. Panting heavily, trying to grab something on the floor that didn’t exist, dragging yourself forward was pointless when you were just pulled back.
You used all the brain capacity you could use, grasping the head piece by your side and twisting your body as far as you could to knock the attacker on the head, all while the knife slipped from their grip into the side. You stood again, trying to reach for it, doubting how quickly the person in the cloak could react. A heavier body fell on top of yours as you were flipped onto your stomach, met with the pallid mask with pitch black eyes and a mouth open wide in an inhuman way. You knew it all too well.
“If you’re going to kill me, at least try to be original.” You spat, and yet you were squirming under the hold, trying to reach for the knife on the side. However, instead of risking their chance of grabbing the knife, firm and heavy hands wrapped around your throat. You couldn’t breathe, lack of oxygen made itself present and your brain couldn’t help but panic. Flailing weakly underneath the much stronger body, you raised your knee to where you hoped was the crotch of the attacker. You didn’t even know the gender of the person, but you prayed to the gods that it was a guy.
The hands weakened, you gasped as you gulped for air weakly, one hand on your throat. However, barely giving yourself time to recover, you mustered up strength enough to punch through the mask. Your knuckles ached, burning since you didn’t even hit skin, but plastic. Flipping the position over to be straddling the attacker.
“Sick fucker, all of this just to try to kill me, huh? You were wrong if you thought you could.” You panted, a crazed and yet just as dazed look in your eyes. Your hands fumbled and scrambled to slide off the mask despite the attacker trying to fight back, taking it off in one go. You recognized the person, but couldn’t place from where.
Until he opened his eyes, that is.
The same piercing eyes from the guy in the convenience store, the one you didn’t think much of as he said maybe what a stalker finds interesting isn’t the life, but the person. You were likely being watched for more than you thought you have been, and just yesterday, you interacted with your attacker from today.
“You— of course, of fucking course–, I don’t even know you, and you’re trying to kill me. Fucking hell.” You reached your fist up, landing a punch across his face. He was clearly stronger, it was almost like he was allowing himself to be punched.
You weren’t complaining. But that wasn’t the cause, his fingers sneakily wrapped around your hips to throw you off. It sent you rolling on the floor, stopping short of the kitchen island. You were fighting over a useless cause, not because you were already done for, but because the guy wasn’t even trying to kill you to begin with.
But he didn’t want you to know that, no. All Beomgyu wanted was to have you broken down and helpless in front of him.
You stood quickly on your feet, aiming for the front door. You cursed yourself for having locked the latch not only below the doorknob, but above the door as well. The first latch was easy, but as you reached for the second one, you felt one of his hands bury itself into your already tangled hair before brutally knocking it against the door, once, twice. Your knees buckled beneath you, brain fuzzing from the sheer force he had used.
Your knees met the hardwood floor, your body weak from fighting as you settled for seating. His figure was imposing above you, the cloak engulfing his body. His eyes were akin to molten fire, it was like setting something on fire only to watch it die down to acquire the color. But there was no mistaking the insanity in both pairs of orbs. Beomgyu wiped the split skin of his lip with the back of his hand, examining the barely visible blood coating his glove for a moment before snickering.
He took his sweet time to crouch before you, one eyebrow shooting up slightly. Annoyance didn’t make itself present in his eyes or words, it made itself present by how his tongue was pushed against the inside of his cheek. “You’re a tough one.” He remarked, shoving the knife by its tip on the floor so it would stand to his favor. His hard was not only strong while now gripping your jaw, but it was certainly enough to later on leave a red mark. “You said your life was boring, why do you want to live if you can’t even find something in a routine you find so tedious?”
“You’re fucking sick, and not in the good way.” You replied through your teeth instead, eyes barely open.
One of his hands snaked back into your hair, you could feel it. “Answer me, bitch.” And then he pulled.
The noise that left you wasn’t supposed to ever be let out, but it did come out. And he would have to be deaf to not have heard it. The hands on your hair shouldn’t have sent a wave of pleasure through your body, but they did. Enough to make you shudder and want to leave this house as soon as possible
“You’re into this?” The smirk spread on Beomgyu’s face made something coil on your stomach, and something clicked. Was he not trying to kill you all along? Fucking hell, suprises seemed to be coming one after another.
“I’m not, let me go before I call the fucking cops on you.” Threatening was the only thing you could do, there wasn’t much you could do with an aching head and weakness.
“While you’re beneath me? Sweetheart, don’t put it past me to impale you on my knife.”
The way he threw the sentence at you so.. uncaring, it sent shivers down your spine, like he didn’t mean it as literally as it was meant to be. His grip tightened, your lips pressed onto a tight line.
He leaned in closer, not to kiss, but to whisper something into your ear. “Or should I say slut?” To prove his point, he pulled again just to hear a low grunt come from you. It was obvious he also knew it wasn’t from pain.
You didn’t bother replying, not when his mouth was so quick to latch onto your neck. Straight up biting, not kissing, not sugarcoating it. Only to then lick it over and kiss the spot, to then suck on the salty skin caused by your sweat. Your head was already pulled back by the grip on your hair, all you had to do was sit still and moan all pretty for him. It was sick, it was twisted, yes.
But it did little to help the wetness that started to, despite your better knowledge, form on the fabric of your panties.
“Fuck— at least tell me your name,” you panted out, the loud ‘pop’ of his mouth leaving your skin was audible soon enough.
“I don’t tell my name to people who slam their head pieces on my head.” He mocked instead, gaze flickering from your halfway closed eyes to your lips.
“You’re a fucking dickhead.”
“And you’re letting someone who probably wanted to kill you give you hickeys, so tell me, am I really what you say I am, or are you just trying to justify this for yourself?” He tilted his head, huffing out a laugh once he got no reply, just the embarrassment that rose up to your cheeks. “What I thought.”
You opened your mouth to speak, it was just as futile due to his lips messily clashing onto yours. He was right, you were allowing this not because you were scared. But because you were turned on by feeling like a victim underneath Beomgyu. Tongue against tongue as you parted your own lips to let him in, your moan drowned into his mouth. The once numb ache between your legs became more pronounced, and Beomgyu wasn’t far behind. Rutting into your thigh shamelessly, he was just as turned on as you were.
He pulled back to stare at your lips slicked with spit, a string of saliva connecting you two. “Aren’t you ashamed? Hell, your sister could walk in at any moment and you’d probably stay quiet if I tried dragging you away. Maybe I should impale you on something else instead of that stupid knife–you’d like it, wouldn’t you?” The words were filthy, Beomgyu himself was filthy. But you didn’t fight when he hoisted you up against him, you merely let your own legs wrap around his waist and your ankles locking behind him as your lips met in a dance that was a fight for dominance. A fight that both of you knew would be the winner. “You’re just a cheap whore, after all.”
The way towards the upper floor was calculated, steady. You could only catch onto the sound of a door opening and it closing behind you two. Your back met the soft mattress of a room, and despite it being dark, the hello kitty candle on the nightstand gave it away.
You were in your sister’s bedroom, and about to be dicked down in front of the plushies she collected.
You propped yourself up against them, panting heavily. Beomgyu’s figure was imposing above you, grip around the knife firm and strong. You didn’t record him bringing it upstairs, but it left a small flicker of fire trailing on your skin as he slid the tip from your stomach down to your skirt.
“Have you known how long I’ve fantasized about this? Fucking you dumb on a mattress with you just letting me do it?” He asked breathlessly, pulling the skirt down in one easy go. You kicked it down your ankles, watching with your body practically putting and easy to move in his hold. Stopping short of your crotch, in one easy slice, Beomgyu cut the fabric open. Using his other hand to rip the fabric down to the lower expanse of your inner thighs.
It felt humiliating, being not only ogled but picked apart. Unsure what to do for once in your life, “Just letting me fuck this pretty cunt into next week, would you let me, huh? Would I need to have my knife against your neck for you to let me do it?” And although he didn’t wait for your answer, he seemed expectant for you to show that you would through your actions.
By now, Beomgyu was more likely to think with his dick than with his brain. Fingers not asking for permission before meeting your slit through the fabric, once, twice. Just to feel how soaked you actually were for him. “Would I need to stab you for you to be willing?” Beomgyu sounded fucking insane, but you thought it was hot–so who really was insane here?
It had you tipping your head back against the innocent plushies on the bed and moaning. You were aching for his touch with the entirety of your body, it had you wondering what else he could do to you instead of threats. “You’re so fucking soaked.. you just nearly died and still want my dick, stupid slut.” His pupils immensely dilated, he knew he had you wrapped around his fingers, already broken down so sweetly for him.
And only for him.
Finally, his thumb met your clit. Rubbing agonizingly slow circles to draw out your reactions, finger eyeing the remainder of your form underneath your clothes. “Don’t— don’t need to stab me, anything, anything you want just make me cum—“
You mewled, thighs squirming around his hand as he pressed against your clit again. Mean, that’s what you thought. But now that he had you, he wanted to have you like he had always fantasized.
His tongue met the roof of his mouth, pushing your panties to the side with ease. His black gloves started to glisten from the slick dripping out of you, a low whistle leaving his lips. “Whore.” He remarked, sliding one of his fingers up and down your slit, tip of his gloved finger pushing against your entrance but never quite sliding in.
You were a whining, labored breathing mess underneath his touch. Heels pressing against the bed as you tried to stay still underneath his ministrations. You couldn’t help the obscene moan as his hand slapped your pussy hard, the pressure making your clit twitch and even ache for more when it shouldn’t.
“Whoever you are, please— please, fuck” You begged, eyes so teary from sheer neediness, no one probably ever managed to get you this wet before, or so desperate to cum to the verge of tears.
His lips wrapped around his slicked up gloves, moaning lowly around the digits upon tasting you from the fabric. “Taste s’sweet.” He groaned, sliding his gloves right off and tossing them in the unknown darkness of the room. But he didn’t give it to you right away, no.
He wanted every touch to burn, he wanted you to feel everything he was giving you. Thumb prying your mouth slicked with exchanged saliva open, Beomgyu shoved two fingers into your mouth. If he was going to finger you, he wanted you to work for it. “Suck.” He demanded, and you did.
You sucked on his fingers like you would if he had asked you to give him head, eyes rolling back. The sight did little to ease how hard his cock was underneath the cloak, your face flushed, hair sticking to you, panties soaked and pushed to the sight while your cunt drooled for him. All while you moaned around the fingers you were sucking, his fingers.
If Beomgyu had any self restraint before this or not, it was fully over now.
“Beomgyu.” He then said, watching you look at him confusedly through your lashes. “I’m going to murder something else tonight, know what to scream.” The way you nodded so quickly to his demand was nothing short of pathetic, an unintelligible sound leaving your lips to which Beomgyu assumed you were trying to make out his name. Pushing his fingers further down your throat just to feel you gag, he finally pulled them out. Gasping, whining, begging. You couldn’t pick one as you looked at him and his fingers with immense longing, but before you could even start blabbering ‘please’s’, he wasted no time shoving two long digits inside you. The squelch loud, echoing through the room.
Your voice came as a string of moans, some being his name, some being things you didn’t even know what you really meant to say as he settled for a brutal pace. “So tight around my fingers, you’re fucking sucking them in. Pussy so warm, fuck.”
He groaned, the feeling of your walls around his fingers nearly too much. “F-fuck, ohmyg— faster, Beomgyu, hah—“ You begged underneath him, all the initial tension melting from your body, rules of how to deal with murderers thrown out your window like all the other plans you had earlier today.
“You’ll take what I fucking give you.” He said with a voice that showed he was in no better situation than you were, his dick painfully pulsating just at the thought of slamming himself into you and fucking into you over and over again until his mind blanked. His fingers slid out much to your discontent, only to give your pussy another wet smack, sliding his fingers back. It became a ritual until you were on the verge of screaming, cunt fluttering and clenching around him, aching to cum.
However, he seemed to be serious about you taking what he gave you. His gaze hardened to your displeased noise as he slid his fingers out, “Asshole, you can’t just—“ you tried to snap back, tried to get his fingers back inside, you were just so close. Pussy fluttering around nothing, clit red and puffy, you were desperate.
What got you to quiet down was how he pressed the knife against your neck, your breath faltered, but you didn’t feel fear, at least not too much of it. “Shut the fuck up before I slit your fucking throat right now.” Voice rough, the air in the room was incredibly stuffy. It was hot, far too hot. Beomgyu had always been good at multitasking, and you figured it out by how he held the knife and slid the fabric of the clothing covering your upper body down, hurriedly, like he was a man starving and you were about to be feasted on.
Your bra came next, he moaned at the sight once they broke free from their confine. “Fuck, so pretty just for me. But you’re so bad— hah, I should teach you a lesson. You always learn everything so fast, don’t you? No wonder our professors like you” He chuckled darkly, lips trailing down your chest, uncaring of how he held the deadly object to your throat as he slid his warm tongue down the newly exposed skin, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples. He lavished them in attention and most of his saliva, all until you were a squirming mess under him. His hip held you firmly to halt you to a stop, pulling back to wrap his lips around the other like one wasn’t just enough.
Your brow furrowed, a hint of your heart missing a beat felt once you registered his words–of course this dickhead was in your class, and most importantly, knew how you acted and reacted to certain things. Now, thinking deeper into it, you could place his face. Quiet, weird kid who sat all the way in the back rows of the classroom, barely spoke, and sometimes was the target of college jocks who picked on him. It was no wonder that they were the first to go. You tried to not think much of it, at least not now, especially not when Beomgyu’s touch seemed to drive you to the brink of insanity.
It was frustrating, you could barely move under his hold, all you could do was take the attention given to your boobs that you weren’t quite sure how to handle it, whether you should cry from frustration or moan until your voice was rough and raspy, you didn’t know.
His lips came back with a wet pop, finally satisfied. Staring at you, and you just waited for his next movements that never came. You tried to grind down onto his thigh, and finally there was some action. “Ah, ah, ah. Use your words.” Beomgyu said as he stopped your movements that didn’t even start, leaving you to fumble with your own words.
It was an arduous fight between your want and embarrassment, a shaky exhale leaving you. But Beomgyu wouldn’t move, he seemed hellbent on hearing you say it.
“Beomgyu.” You whined, tears starting to cling to your lashes. He didn’t feel bad, but the sight of the tears making you seem so much more helpless turned him on incredibly further.
“Mm?” The noise came as a question from the back of his throat. “Speak up.” He encouraged.
“Please, just– give me your dick— fuck, I need you, I need you so bad.” You begged, begged like waiting was painful. It was all it took for Beomgyu to shove his pants down, barely fully down, stopping down to his bent knees. His brain wasn’t in control as stroked himself once or twice, pressing his tip against your slit. His eyes rolled back as he used his tip to circle your clit, moaning as he felt your slick coating his already leaking cock.
Even through the dimness of the room, you could make out the shape of his dick. He was big, not thick, but he was long. And despite the initial foreplay, he shoved his dick inside of you in one go. It was enough to burn, the stretch unfamiliar especially considering you hadn’t gotten laid for a good moment.
His head was thrown back, eyes fluttering shut. For someone who was calling you a whore moments ago, he was just as loud as you. Wind knocked from your lungs, he made you feel so stupidly full, you swore his tip was already in your guts. No time to adjust, he settled for a brutal pace above you, hands gripping your hips like you would disappear if he didn’t.
“Pussy so tight, ah.. fuck, clenching so hard around me, god—“ Beomgyu blabbered, the tears sliding down your cheek only motivated him further. The room filled with a cacophony of moans and wet smacks of skin against skin.
“Beomgyu, gyu— Nngh, ah, ah— I’m going to, oh my god—“ You didn’t quite remember ever squirting in your life, but it came unannounced. Head flying back as you practically screamed. Clenching so hard around Beomgyu’s poor dick he had no choice but to pull back, the substance splattering against the cloak he never took off, but opted to now. He seemed almost mesmerized by your act, drenching the sheets below you.
“Again, fuck, again.” He panted, shoving his dick back into your clenching and overstimulated pussy.
“S’too much, Beomgyu.. ah— hah, fuck,” You were moaning so loud you weren’t sure if the kids and teenagers passing by outside hadn’t heard you already. Your voice would be long gone before the party even started.
“You can take it, can’t you? You’re squeezing me so fucking tight.” He rasped, hips snapping forward in an almost animalistic way as his fingers wrapped around your throat.
The pressure made your ears start to ring, gulping for air that never reached. Your brain registering and oversensitive due to the lack of air and stimulation of his dick ramming into your sweet spot. Your moans slowly turned into disgruntled noises, only for Beomgyu to let go before you passed out. Repeating the same process over and over again, he could barely even speak.
“I’m going to cum, oh fuck. Want me to cum in you? Fill you up? Hah.. I could fuck a baby into you.” Was all he managed to blabber out mixed with how far gone he was.
“Please, please— please” was all you could say in response, all you could really manage with the lack of air that would hit you with his hands around your neck.
His hand, the free one at least, slid from your hip back to your clit. Thumb rubbing tight circles over your clit, “Cum with me, god— I’m going to fill this pussy up so good.”
The overstimulation made your brain want to shut down, your whole body putty against the plushies that held you up. Head thrown back, you finally felt Beom-gyu press himself deep into you, his cum warm and sticky filling your aching cunt. You came around his dick once again not long after, panting in the aftershocks.
Everything was a blur around you, chest heaving as you came down from your orgasm. You winced as Beomgyu slid out of you, feeling but not quite catching how he used his fingers to spread the lips of your now puffy pussy to the side, exposing your clenching and dripping hole, all full of him. He reached for his phone inside the pocket of his pants lowered to his ankles, making sure the flash was on so you’d know he took a picture of how wrecked you looked for him.
He slid the mask back on, fixed his clothing like nothing had happened, like he wouldn’t be jerking off to the picture of you lying down all teary eyed, puffy pussy, and flushed skin. “Nice costume.” He mumbled quietly, already slipping his boots on. “Shame it’s a bit dirty. At least it’ll keep everyone else away, yeah?”
You couldn’t complain properly about the blood staining your costume and your tights completely ripped, not when he was already opening the window. “Oh yeah, if I was you, I’d wipe your nose. And change the sheets.”
Faintly, from downstairs, you could hear the door sliding open. You groaned, and in the next moment, Beomgyu was gone without a trace. Leaving you with not only one, but two sticky messes.
͟✿֔ ͟ຼ ꯭ ░ ׄ i’ll tell you what a woman loves most, it’s a man who can slap but can also stroke.
──── ၇͜ᩘ 𔒌 ﹔ reworked and reposted fanfic!! this one has been collecting dust in my drafts bru omg.. ghostface gyu making a comeback around here:)) hope it’s somewhat more enjoyable than whatever i wrote first thing into this acc omg.. i deadass forgot how fucking filthy this fanfic is i think i’m questioning my entire existence.
dilf 최연준 𝓍 fem reader ˖ ꯭𓂋 smut, sugar relationship, vacation ༢ pretty heavy on the age gap, 16 year gap, dilf yeonjun, smut, size diff kink, spit, choking, brat taming, he gets off on spoiling, he also gets off on scent and perfume, fingering and mirror sex, dirty talk, lots of pet names, he’s 36, a bit of jealousy from both, a trip to hawaii, (barely) underage drinking, happy trail mention, unprotected sex, reader rlly is spoiled, financial domination
ash⦂ i rlly just have been in a dilf kick in my soul lately so i hope everybody’s on the same page or else that would be reaaaaal awkward… anyway, this is so fun and tropical and i hope everyone is ready for some summer!! this is a leftover from last year’s summer event so thankfully it’s with us finally >_<
Choi Yeonjun is a man. In a broad pair of shoulders, the sharp coffee and black pepper that clings to his skin that lingers in the warm pulse points when you press your face into them, and how he keeps himself put together in clothes without the wrinkles of a twice-worn thing off the carpet like the guys your age, who you could ask if they do exactly that and they would shrug and tell you that they did. Not Yeonjun. None of that was what truly set him apart, nor the things that put that stamp of ratified man on his integrity.
That was in the opening doors for you. He insists on it. He doesn't want your hands on any car door handles, only wants to hear the click of the heels bought on his dime hitting the ground when you step out after him. And he wasn't afraid to tell you it, either. It was in how he took the burden of ordering for you at the diners he took you, with the warm crystal lights that hung low over your table as he'd thumb the back of your hand. In how that card of his was yours, too.
You were sitting in bed after a thorough, all brand new, skincare routine, when he proposed the flight to Hawaii. A face mask seeped into your skin as you gawked into the glow of the screen. If he had only see your face. He tells you it's the best part.
11:00pm [Yeonjun]: We have a suite booked in O'ahu for this weekend. Do you need anything for it, baby?
11:00pm [Yeonjun]: Pack light, you'll be coming home with more than you came.
11:01pm [Yeonjun]: How does that sound?
It was that part that made your stomach twist up like it was in there jump-roping. It always is the way he talks to you; because, what kind of question is that? He knew exactly how it sounded. His texting mannerisms scream older, succinct with an air of a man who knows exactly how off-guard this all still leaves you. He is so cruel, in the most savory way. It has long since been decided that men age like wine. They sit on a shelf and mature, until they're more rich and deep. Or at least until they've had their fun, their money, and are left with an itch to funnel it all into making something bloom pretty at his attention and spoiling.
Honolulu is so much alike the post cards, and in the same vein, so much different. It's a bustling metropolis with buildings that scrape the turquoise sky. The beach is within walking distance from your hotel, and that is just as peppered with tourists in cover-ups they probably bought right from the ABC store along the strip.
"Waikiki looks nothing like I thought it did," you say. A piña colada daiquiri sweats in your hand under the thick sun. It's hot here. Not like the bone dry heat of summer back at home, but instead it's thick on your skin like a layer of salt off the breeze. You fiddle with the tropical ribbons of your bikini bottoms at the swell of your hip. Lazy and pampered, and nobody could deny it. You wouldn't.
With his arms tucked behind his head on a tanning chair adjacent to yours, he grins. "What did you think it was?" He runs his finger around the rim of his own drink. He'd made you sip off it and found the wrinkle of your nose at the burn humorous.
Not full on city with the same beeping cars and traffic as home, perhaps. Your shoulders have long since turned pink. Your cheeks, a radiant burn to match. It tugs every time your face moves like the skin's just a bit too tight. "Like… When you think of Hawaii, the first thing you think of. That." It's about time you roast your other side. Or else you'll be glowing red on your front and springtime pale at the back. The cheeky bottoms of your bikini's ridden up with all your lounging, the soft spot where your ass meets thigh turned up this way around. Yeonjun doesn't look away when you catch him getting an eyeful. "That guy didn't even ID me." The spot where your nose presses to your pillow of crossed arms smells like sweat and coconutty sunscreen.
"He's not gonna ask you while I'm there," Yeonjun says. He holds one hand up like a visor over his eyes, looking at you under it. The shirt he'd changed into as soon as you hit the room There's a healthy glow set deep in his skin that leads you to suspect that, even if this is the first time he's taken you on a pretty penny vacation, it's not his first. It's a deep, bronze that speaks of a tan that's built on. You're not his first sugar baby. That's something you've come to terms with. It gets a little easier with a swipe of the card.
"Why…?"
Thumbing the crease of your bottom, he supplies his answer with a hum. "It's his job to sell it. This whole city loves a dollar bill." Lifting his own glass, he adds, "And that kid's not trying to offend me by asking."
That kid. A guy somewhere near your age, give or take. It's always those little things that send a furious, brilliant storm of butterflies through your belly. The little ways he reminds you exactly what he is. They never come in grand gestures. More in the way he just moves through the world, and how it bends around his shape to meet him. He didn't ask the associates in the luxury stores he takes you shopping in to perk up and run to serve him, knowing he'll buy. They just do it.
A handful of girls three rows down laugh with one another over the holistic sound of the resort pools. Lifeguards, kids here on vacation with parents glad they're cannon-balling into the pools and bothering the group of twenty-somethings with palms over the mouth of their tumbler glasses to save themselves the misery of discovering how teal, chlorine water mixed with margarita. Sweat has glued your cheek to where it squishes against your upper arm. You keep your head oriented to watch him. "But can't they get in trouble for that?" Talking comes difficult. The heat makes you too lazy. You can hardly even summon the words.
Smiling at that, he answers, "If they get caught, yeah." The muscles dormant in his biceps ripple as he crosses his arms about his chest. He didn't hit the gym; not that you knew of. But he maintains that like he does. Another thing that seems to just come with the whole matured, better, older man package.
That felt topically ironic. Especially considering that you never do intend to be caught. You dread the thought so hard that you've learned to banish it the moment it springs up. It's easier this way. And way more fun. It's not like you never thought about it; toeing the line in the sand without ever really letting the tide rush in on you. "This stuff is so sweet. Should I have another one?"
That gets a kick out of him. "Yeah? You like it?" Yeonjun says. There's a languor dripping off the way he does, sticky like the air. "That's because it's rum, babygirl. All sugar."
Your throat goes all tight. Fumbling after words, you quickly say, "It taste like a smoothie."
"That's why you don't need another one." He laughs. "It hits you faster than you think it will. Especially with the heat." Then, picking up the drink, he drinks down what you hadn't gotten to you. Those expressive brows twist. "Shit, that's sweet."
You only smile and watch him cross his arms back. They look fit to throw you any which way, or even to carry all the bags he would snatch from you before you even got to try and carry yourself. "Okay, it's not that sweet."
Not in any hurry, never in any hurry, he gets that look on his face that you've come to know to mean that he's guiding the conversation a different way. He corrals you so easily that you tend to not even notice that you're on the next topic. He takes control of any conversation with such ease. On your first date, you had been a shaking, shy thing sat across from him. It didn't matter much. With a little steering you and a handsome smile as he listened to you answer his questions, the burden of even carrying conversations was off your shoulders. That was his job, he'd told you later on when you told him how terrified you were.
"I was thinking about heading back to the suite," he starts. The sharp lines of his eyes linger on you like he's plotting it all out in real time, and there's a prospective smoothness to his voice. As if he'd already playing it all out in his head, and he knows exactly what he has in store for you. "Getting dressed. No need to rush, we have all night. We're here to enjoy ourselves. And then head down to the beach walk, shop around, get you some things to try on for me." He doesn't even smirk. Nothing to justify the way your stomach swoops quick. "And I put a reservation in at this nice, low-key grill for us after. If we need to come back real quick to drop off your stuff, we can." Taking one last drink off his glass, he says, "Sound good, baby?"
Sound good? How could you have any objections? You blink at him for a moment. Up until yesterday, you'd never even flown overseas. Vacations meant twelve hour drives and scrapping with your siblings and the blankets and luggage for space in the car, just to end up squished against the door anyway. You were half lead to believe that things like this happened only on T.V. or for faceless people in a tax bracket you knew you'd never touch. And yet…
"What? Do you have something else in mind?" His lips do quirk now, perhaps because he knows exactly what. "We can do whatever your sweet heart wants. No need to be shy with me. We're here for you. Me and Hawaii are good friends."
You rush to correct yourself. "No, that's, like, perfect." Pressing up to your elbows, still baking your backside, you say, "I've just never done this before."
He's heard that before, that first time you were intimate with him. You never imagined your first to be a man with sixteen years on you, who was not your boyfriend but instead something suspended in an awkward space between that and something else. Something that makes your blood rise to your ears and lie to everybody you know. A year ago, two, you would've turned your nose up at another girl for sitting in Hawaii on a man's money. After all, down to its core, it's only a trade, isn't it? The sugar in sugar daddy is the tan in your skin and the necklace at your throat studded, in the shape of a 'Y', in true diamonds. And in sugar baby, it was something much more coveted. Well, you couldn't sneer at yourself now; couldn't have known that it could come like him, and not in a sixty year old man who had to pay for sex because he wouldn't get it otherwise.
"Good." He leans back into his low pool chair, the perfect image of the leisure that is company to what he is. But he's got an airy, soft thing going on with his mouth as the sun rushes back over it. "Maybe we'll go out on a boat tomorrow, too."
He doesn't even have to ask to know the answer.
When Yeonjun means get whatever you want, he means that. Not metaphorically. Not loosely, not a ceiling that you might accidentally brush if you got overeager. There wasn't a budget. Not on you. You have your questions concerning where, exactly, he might have all this money. His Seeking profile didn't even tell. And when you asked, he kissed you and said, "I'm old enough to know that you don't really care about my job. You'd get bored to hell of it eventually. So let's not open that door anyway."
Whatever that meant. You gleaned enough from the dress shirts and ironed slacks that it wasn't anything too mystifying. It was, maybe, a bit overdramatic in the way he said it. Or maybe it was your own head that did the work of imagining some big secret.
Bushes with a deep, waxy green up against pink and white Plumerias with yellow blooming at their centers, stand opposite to the glowing warm storefronts which stud the sidewalk. Your hotel is right in the heart of it all. You step out, and you're right there in downtown Honolulu. Clearly, you two had the same idea as everybody else did. It must be the season back home. The streets are packed. Groups of girls walk with their elbows linked with Leis around their necks, probably coming from a restaurant where they were handed out, couples with kids and couples here hoping to get away from theirs, they all have the same essence about them as you feel in your chest. You feel like you're just gawking at stupid things with stars in your eyes like you've never seen a bush, or a lit-up tourist trap. But how did you even get here? Here, where something sweet hangs and makes the air even heaver. Maybe those flowers. Or the street vendors boasting cups of million-dollar pineapple chunks with the rinds still on and passion fruit stuffed in with papayas, and the way it overlaps with the salt from the water. The shoreline is close enough from here than you can watch the black water rush up and disturb the sand.
"You look beautiful," Yeonjun had told you when you stepped out of the bathroom. He didn't need any flowery enhancers to sound like he meant it. He told you in the simplicity that he was unafraid to use, and even more potently, in the lingering inventory he takes of the dress. His hands had flexed where they were shoved into his pockets in patiently waiting. Because he know more than any man, maybe, that patience paid sweeter. He didn't just enjoy the silhouette the sundress made, though you know he definitely did enjoy that. You're still suffering the echoes in your knees that the smolder in his eyes had made shake. But he made sure to enjoy the golden bangles that made feminine, sparkling sounds as you slipped into your heels. How they complimented the sunset pinks and oranges of the tropical floral fabric, and made the sanguine flush to your cheeks speak.
He had stopped, especially, at your neck. Traced the shape of that 'Y' as it glittered. And if anybody were to ask, you were certain that his throat had bobbed.
Now, he keeps one steady hand at your back and the other in his pants. He is an impossibly handsome man, in the most literal sense of the word. But night makes him something else. It cuts the lines of his face which had an angle to them that you could only attribute to aging. His eyes were slow and pleased and all over you and the view your push-up bra makes. "Do you want one?" he asks when your eyes linger on a stand selling Hibiscus flowers. The ones the grew well and didn't get too beat up by the elements, which tourists like to pluck off the bush anyway.
"I mean… They're, like, fifteen dollars." That was a good meal's worth, as far as you were concerned. You could go without. "That's crazy. People just pick them anyway."
"Fifteen dollars to look beautiful on you," he says, "is nothing. Do you know how expensive you look right now, sweetheart?" Passing the person running the stand a bill, he takes your chin with his thumb and tucks a yellow one behind your ear. It's huge, flirting with your eyes and brushing against your temples. Approval flashes over his gaze. "There we go. Now you look like you're in Hawaii."
God. Nothing about that should make your head go so dumb.
You make your way down the street doing pretty much the same. You dip in and out of stores, racking up bags in his free hand. He has no complaints to give. It's something chemical to him. Like foreplay, watching your eyes light up and your mouth go shy with every yes. Yes, yes, yes. That's his favorite word.
Of course you drag him into Sephora. The black-and-white storefront pulls you in with gravity amidst the high-end stores and the shops with the shot glasses and tees plastered with Waikiki beach regalia. He lets you browse and drop things into the shopping basket. You giggle when you catch sight of him, there in his fine muslin button down pushed to his elbows, veins peeking out with the strain, classy sunglasses pushing his hair off his forehead, balancing the damage you'd already done in one hand and the carnage that will ensue at checkout here in the other. With a playing smile on his face, he says, "Don't you want to do something you can't do at home?"
"I can't shop at Sephora in Hawaii at home." You take your lip into your teeth to fight a coquettish grin. A toasty lip liner lands in the cart with a plastic sound of the packaging. "I'm like a thousand percent sure they have stuff here that we just don't have at home." The one by your place is half the size, and even less stocked. You'd probably had a hand in that.
"You've gotten spoiled," Yeonjun says, and you think it sounds like lust. "I've made you into a little money monster. You used to be so shy."
You gasp with affront, coloring your words precisely spoiled. "Me? Not even close. You have to beg me to spend money on myself!" You did, in fact, used to be much more shy with him. It took a few dates to be able to look him in the eyes. It's that contrast between you that is so intoxicating. How you get all dressed up in girly outfits and ramble at him, and he has the answers for it all.
He nudges you around and aisle into the next. The cart is slowly filling up. When he had said you'd be leaving with more than you came, he'd meant it. "I do," he rasps. "I've never taken another girl somewhere who loved shopping more. You're a blushing, pretty hole in my wallet."
A throaty imitation of a laugh if all you can muster in response to that. It's not like you didn't know he had other sugar babies before yourself. Had probably taken them to Hawaii, too. The thought spirals out of control before you can stamp it out. Brushing the buttery petals of the flower at your ear, you consider if he's done exactly this, all of it, with another girl, too. He has the means to. And then you get to thinking what he could've done with those girls. Did he tell them how pretty they sounded like he loved so much to tell you? "You're mean," you say, empty banter. "I'm go back in the bowl and find a sugar daddy that doesn't bully me."
The harsh overhead lights cut his features and catch the way his jaw ticks. "Is that it?" His eyes flicker down the the basket you're filling. You don't know if it's pointed or him doing the math. "They couldn't afford you."
The next step you take is a bit more wobbly, a knot pulling tight deep in your belly and making your coordination all loose. He watches watches you flounder. Realistically, you are very aware you are outmatched. It doesn't stop you doubling down. Your low heels click against the tile floors as you shuffle toward a perfume display. Heavy glass with powdery vanillas and sharp, full black pepper and night blooming jasmine, you are a self-fulfilling prophecy and gravitate toward only the luxe stuff. Maybe that's what ruffles you. That he's right. You take a greenish bottle and spritz it into the sensitive insides of your wrists.
"How about this one?" you say, prim, and offer it up to him. "Is it pretty…?"
Taking the offer up, his nose feathers against the skin. You suppress the thrill it gives you. A moment, a beat in the air exists in intimate tranquility, before you what you're about to say. He looks up at you through his brows as the scent profile hits him. Creamy banana leaf and flirty, fruity coconut that embodied everything that you were right now. His eyes drop to your mouth only long enough for you to see that he does it. "Buy it." He surrenders to one more drag of how it melts into the heat of your skin before straightening back up. You only ever remember that you have to look up at him when he does that. "I want you to wear that when we meet."
You've always known Yeonjun was more attuned to scents than other men. It was often the first thing he'd bring up when he entered a space, but it was also something he'd whisper into your ears, voice scraping, while he was behind you. So you know what you're doing when you pout your mouth and say, "Do you think the new sugar daddy will like it, too? Should I wear it for him?"
Whatever you thought he'd do, he doesn't. A scoff, or maybe a brisk, annoyed dismissal, you'd expected. Or maybe even he'd say something. But Yeonjun just pauses. Goes blank, with no playful retort to volley back. All you know is that his dark eyes, which had been so content on an indulgent walk down downtown and a nice dinner after, go severe. Darker with no trick of the light.
He only says, "Right."
That leaves you with nothing to say. You cap the tester bottle and take a real box of the perfume. Because now, you might really need that in your favor if the way he had been drinking it down was anything to go off of. Maybe it'll soften him. Your little makeup and perfume detour ends with a whimper, not a bang, as you stand beside him in line and then watch him pull out that wallet despite it. Two bags sit on the counter waiting for you to reclaim them. Full bags. But when he thumbs his credit card and runs it, a sleek, black, metal thing with weight that speaks for itself, it goes through with a ding. You toy with the frills of your little dress to expel the mortification somewhere, or even anywhere, that isn't a rambunctious ball in your chest. You open your mouth to smooth things over a few times, but decide against it. You can't claim to have not know that it would bother him, but it's too late for that.
A weird thrill shoots down your spine at the view. His shoulders rigid and sharp from the back, holding all the things in his head right now that you can only guess at.
The final act takes place in a shop, with him leaned up against a wall that separates the changing rooms from the rest of the place into its own little dim hallway. Obnoxious lights oppress the clothing racks and shoppers from a high, warehouse-like ceiling. A pop station closes in from a speaker in the corner of your dressing room. The clothes you'd rummaged through racks for hang on a gold hook on the wall, waiting for you to stop holding your breath. Even when you finally make yourself move to drop your clothes on the glossy floor below, you're elsewhere. The way his faced dropped? Not just that, but the fact that it wasn't even anger. You don't know what it was; maybe something new that the two of you had created yourselves, or something unique to the reality of what you were to each other.
Yeonjun's knock against the door pauses you. You can almost see it, how he'd rap the backside of his knuckles, head down. His mannerisms are so vivid and branded into your psyche that you could step out right now and you're certain that it's exactly how you'd find him. "Need help?"
The center of your shoulder blades burn because you'd been contorting yourself for the past few minutes to reach the strings behind you. You take your lip into your teeth and take a look of yourself in the mirror. You look expensive. You look like all the things that Choi Yeonjun touches: taken care of. "Uhhh." A part of you wants to deny him. To play the cards that you hold in this long game. He never fails to remind you how much power you hold over him and this arrangement. Why not test the boundaries? But you know what would be sweeter than that. Wordlessly, you pull the latch with a loudness that all dressing room locks seem to have.
Then there he is. His arms are crossed, the muscles there loose but still something that you have to take your mind off, or else you might start to think how they would feel under your teeth. You rove over the slanted height of him and how he still looks tall, even when he leans his head and shoulder into the frame. His eyes rove over you, too. Not a flicker. Not a quick assessment. No. God, no. Not with him.
The latch snaps shut behind him with a barely-there gesture. Your whole stomach drops to the floor and shatters.
It's a little showy. You'll give him that. And maybe you'll also admit that you grabbed this exact dress for this exact reason. A corner of your lip wants to twitch with satisfaction, but you have a plan to see through, and it starts and ends with him groveling for you. What a sight that would be. Even just imagining it and turning the imagery of it in your head, when he's the reason you can even live this life that you do, makes you a rapt little tease. Boys your age can't do this. They couldn't be him if they tried. You're beginning to think that he was a different species of man completely.
A beat passes, and then he runs the pads of his fingertips along the hem of your dress. It ends so, so dangerously; right about where your ass folds over at the sanguine softness of your thighs. The skittering brush of contact is straight electricity, and it's the littlest touch. His eyes meet yours through the mirror. Dark. Smoldering like pure wood smoke, erupting slow like the mountains on these islands that move slow enough to watch their molten greed come, but know that you can do nothing to stop it. It's no fair how he looks at you. Your knees go just completely useless.
Yeonjun completely disregards even pretending he was going to lace that skimpy back up for you. You swallow cotton. "Is it cute?" you ask, because you have a pretty good idea of what the answer is already.
The breathy gasp when he takes the soft fat of your hips into his hands with a greed that says he'd been thinking about them since you walked into this store and while he waited patiently on the other side of the door for this. Or before even that. He tugs your bottom to the front of his jeans and says, with his voice smooth like the scotch he sips, "Of course it's beautiful, baby. Do you want it?"
"Yes," you choke out around a thick knot of anticipation. Your own face meets you, palms braced on either side of the ornate gold mirror and your reflection giving you a show of how ditzy and pathetic he makes you. "But I don't know if I should." The syllables waver toward the end and belie your coquettish act.
He laughs like a scoff while he pushes the skirt of the dress up the swell of your hips, then past it until he can devour the bend of your arch. He taught you that form. And it looks like he has no notes on your technique, either. The pressure of him testing it makes your head go dumb. "When have I ever told you no?" he rasps. "You have no idea how expensive you are, baby. No idea. Your little shopping trip would've maxed out any other man's card."
There. That's the spot. You pout your mouth at him and catch him eating it up in his reflection. "I'm expensive? Am I too expensive for you, then?"
Of course not. Look at you. Look at where you are. His card is yours and you think that it's near bottomless at this point. You don't even have to ask. Yeonjun's tongue presses against the inside of his cheek.
Your panties hit the floor in one tug. The walls of the changing room become infinitely smaller as he wraps your hair up in his fist. The ache in your scalp brings a prickle to your eyes. "Is that what you think?" he says, that polished quality wipes completely raw. He tries to sound like he's not losing his mind, but it's there if you look past the lilt. "Do I need to buy you the island? The world?" It sounds like he would. Like he will. Instead of reaching for himself, he tests between your thighs for what he knows he'll find there, because of course you're soaked. You've been soaked since Sephora.
"Uh-huh," you say, because he's flicking your clit in little tests and every time he hits the sensitive underside of it, the nerves there send your heels clattering on the marble and your legs trying to find purchase. And because, what's dignity with a man sixteen years older than you who puts money in your bank account and fucks you in high-end boutique dressing rooms?
He likes that. But he doesn't give you anything real, doesn't reward the behavior you've been prancing around him with. His palm wraps around your waist to press into your belly and steady your scrambling legs like it goes without saying. The way his fingers stretch over the soft, doughy place there, how it eats up the expanse of your waist, makes you swallow hard. "God help the next kid that gets you. What's he gonna do with you? How are you gonna manage pizzeria dates and a one-bedroom apartment when you know what you have? What I've given you?"
You can't answer. His fingers curl into you, and he wastes no time finding the spot that he knows like muscle memory. The delicate anatomy of a woman's sweet spot seems like something that just came with the package of him. He doesn't have to search, and he probably never did. Sparks explode behind your eyelids like the fireworks they had been setting off on the beach in brilliant golds and teals. If he hadn't steadied you with the strength of his palm, you'd probably be crumpling down to the floor right about now.
"Hmm?" You can hear the condescending purr on his mouth, because you don't have the strength to pry your eyes open to see it.
You mewl a sorry imitation for the word, "Yes," and go back to trying to wiggle your ass into the incessant curling of his fingers. The sounds of him fingering you makes your ears and chest flush, each inappropriate, sloppy wet noise proving how easy you are for him. "Right—right there, please." Your head drops as the first word breaks in the air. It's really a sorry excuse for words.
He listens so well. The angle of his two middle fingers, the width of them just enough to make you crazy and the finesse of how he uses them like weapons even worse so, twitches just up. It's as though he feels it himself somewhere inside of you that he's found it, because he finds it and you know you're royally fucked from that moment on. "Good," he says. "That way I know I get to keep you. Because you'll go and you'll try other men,"—his forearm strains with how he forgets the soreness in it to fuck you on his fingers right—"and you'll be right back here. In my bed. On my money. My spoiled little mess."
The thought that maybe, beyond the pleasure he gets out of knowing he could give you anything, buy you anything, dressing you up in him, he likes you this way because it means nothing else would ever fill the spot he carved doesn't occur to you. Currently because your thighs spasm and shake and it takes every working synapse in your brain firing off to digest how he fucks you so good that it's a leash in and of itself. Hopefully you'll be here when he starts going salt and pepper, because what would sex be if not this?
Your choked, scraped whimpers get too loud for him. His palm over your mouth finally has your eyes fluttering open, and the sight that greets you back is potent enough to send the same molasses through your veins as the heel of his palm grinding down on your swollen clit. "Shh, baby." He grinds harder, because he's mean. "So goddamn whiny. What a princess you are; can't take what you were begging for all night. Why act up if you're gonna tell the whole store how I'm being mean to you?"
He gets your answer in a gone, strangled sob against his palm. Your own damp breaths where it seals over your mouth makes the air thinner. Each roll of his palm forward is met with a helpless push of your ass back on him. His wrist is practically pinned between the bulge in his jeans, because of course he's affected even if he'd like to pretend otherwise, and your bottom. It doesn't stop him one bit. The private sounds that his silencing makes is better than any reckless moaning. It's almost dirtier, almost wronger.
"Gonna cum?" he rasps, watching the trashy mess your face makes in the mirror like a god exacting justice. The weeping mascara lines pooling where his hand meets your face and the drooping eyes that want to roll back into your skull, the high pink of your cheeks and how he can watch himself give you this like he give you everything fucking else. You were close, but just the question winds you up tight enough to snap. That face of his goes patronizing with a furrow of his brows. Slick rolls in hot rivulets down the insides of your trembling thighs. "That's right. There we go. You need to grind that pussy on my hand? Grind it. Go ahead and see if I'm gonna give you what you're asking for."
You try to say something. You really do. To tell him that you'll do anything for it, that he's melting your brain like butter, or god, just anything. The backs of your eyes and your throat and the pit of your stomach all prickle and go tight at once. He probably hears something unflattering come out from behind his palm, something strangled and a fie on the decorum that a place like this deserves. That mirror that you'd been depending on to keep you at least somewhat planted where he's had you bent in half goes clattering against the wall behind it because you're grasping at it like it can help you.
He stops. Just completely, unfairly, cruelly stops. His fingers come out of you a mess and you have to pretend they weren't just in you as he straightens up, swipes a thumb through your blackened cheeks, and then he doesn't touch you again. You're left gaping at yourself in the mirror and wondering with a naked dissonance, like when something heavy hits metal and leaves it ringing, what the hell you're supposed to do with the knot in your lower belly now. You almost think to just rub one out after he steps out.
Tugging his collar looser around his throat, he works his jaw and lets you change back. It all feels too tight; the frills and the way you clatter uselessly out when you've finished and the neglected pangs of throbbing, so hard that you can feel the pounding of your heartbeat all the way up in your ears. You avoid eye contact when he pays for the dress up at the register. If the flushed face and the smearing of mascara that would give you away no matter how hard you tried to wipe at your cheeks and jaw didn't give you away, maybe the buzzing in your eyes would. He makes small talk with her and takes the bag and receipt as if he wasn't just knuckle deep in you. It's the antithesis of all things fair. You have to breathe with intention as he leads the way back out onto the streets. The air is thick and salty enough to swim through. It's no help up against clammy, salty skin itself. The only thing that keeps you kinda grounded as you stumble by his shoulder, because even now he's steepled your fingers together, is the sweet scent of the palm leaves touching the sky above you. Otherwise you're swimming through the honking and the weaving between bodies and the pulse of what he did to you.
You want to dig your heels in and demand he wraps his fingers around your throat and fix it. Or make a scene so big he has to. But you just blink dumbly the whole way back to the room, because you are nowhere near as gutsy as that, and half as coherent at the moment.
The door clicks closed behind you again in a pantomime of that stuffy, unreal scene you just left behind. You kick your heels off and wait. Wait to see what he does, to see if he'll pounce on you the way you ran over a generous hundred times on the way here. Yeonjun just steps out of his own shoes, drops the new dress off on a seat, and works his watch off by the night stand. The lamp there, a low warm ambience, lights the angles of him. The way his shirt stretches over his shoulders, and how he tapers out to something thin at the waist that lingers in your mind after you fuck—how the stretch below his navel and the dusting of hair there gives way to the V, and how that gives way to his cock. When you first had seen it, he didn't even laugh, though he could've. You'd just stared like you were torn between running away from it and testing if it was as hard and warm as it looked. No; he held your face as he told you that it was okay, that he wanted you to become so familiar with it that you could feel the exact shape and curve of it in your haziest dreams. You press your thighs together as you struggle with the strap of your heel.
A metallic sound works, and then he sets the silver-faced watch down. Then his eyes finally, for the first time since he stepped into that dressing room, meet yours. Not through any mirrors. The weight of that is entirely different.
"Bend over the bed," he says. "C'mon, baby girl. I've been going insane over this all day."
The hinges of your jaw ache. "Why?" You're stumbling over to do just that, because you're more talk than you are brazen. "So you can just stop again? I have fingers, you know. I don't need you."
And then his belt makes a noise that tells you he intends to see it through this time. Your stomach does three full flips, ass in the air like the obedient lap dog that you'd be for him a hundred times over. Because if he groomed you and petted you and you were his one, favorite girl for it? What else could you possibly need?
"Huh." The belt comes loose in a rasp, somewhere behind you now. He'd circled the bed completely. "I could. We could sit here and do that all night, if we wanted. But where would be the fun in that?" he says, and then he bends over your back and speaks into the shell of your ear, "I have about a thousand other, more creative things I'm gonna do to you, sweetheart. And trust me; I've had a lot of time to think them."
The shudder he tears from you is so visceral, it's like he'd wrapped a hand around your throat. You choke your swallow down dry and say, "Please do it, do whatever you want. I can take it."
He presses a wet, biting kiss into that spot where your pulse meets jawline. And then another that lingers against the back of your shoulder, and then he kisses his way down and straightens back up to make a mess of your outfit all over again. "I know you can," he rasps, his own voice scraped down to something needy that reflects exactly what's burning between your legs right now. You can't tell if it should feel like a good thing, but it just raises a chill on your skin. Because if the same blistering things that's inside you is inside of him right now, then you don't know what you've signed yourself up for.
"You're still on the pill?" he says, and then when you hesitate to answer he takes a handful of ass. "Sweetheart. Please."
You nod. He takes that and forgets the condom in his wallet to let a line of spit fall down over your cunt from the back. As if you weren't wet enough. You don't know if you've ever been so slick in your life, so wiggly that you whine at him to, "Hurrrrry." The glob lands at the top of yout slit and follows gravity to your clit, and he goes quiet to watch it find its place on you. He takes his proud length and strokes it once or twice to feel it twitch, to give himself a pathetic teaser for what was to come.
Then he's pounding into you until stars shoot behind your eyelids, until you're making noises that would embarrass you if they were ever caught on tape. The come from your throat, and they practically stay there, bouncing with each collision of his groin against your ass and the backs of your thighs. You eat straight comforter as he braces one arm beside your hips to cant his hips up, right into the place he had fun with teasing earlier. It's probably pretty obvious to the poor neighbors what the grinding of the headboard against the wall might be, but you're too busy getting your brains fucked away to be a considerate neighbor.
"Mfh!" you tell the bedsheets. The laugh that he pants into your shoulder blades is pure, undiluted dirtiness and heat.
"So mouthy," he croons, though he's no better off than you. Each time you flutter tight around him, his fingers dig deeper divots into your hip. "And so pretty when you're split on my cock and can't talk. Isn't that right, baby?" He bends completely over your back, and you're forced to remember through the scattered thoughts of how he looked behind you in that mirror. His body ate yours up. It didn't matter if you were taller, if you were any other way. He'd make you look tiny anyway, just like how his fingers stretch over the small of your back and how he handles you with it. "Tell me what you need. I wanna hear that mouth go."
Breathing is a thing of the past. You shove your face to one side so at least you aren't suffocating in the sheets, face such a mess that you can feel it more than the twist of your brows and the pout on your mouth. Sweat beads at your temples and hair sticks there over your flaming cheeks. "Choke me, choke me," you say. It's the dumbified words of somebody who has about five words in their current arsenal and was using all their brain power for each. You choke and sob and bite whines into the air and meet every single one of his thrusts.
He's not gonna let you ask twice. The precision of his fingers is food for your brain, thinning your windpipe just enough to twist every nudge of his tip to your cervix into something more potent and overwhelming. Your nails bite into his wrist at your neck, skull digging back into his shoulder and hips being ground into the edge of the mattress every time he strokes with mindless, carnal rhythm. "Choke you?" he almost laughs, like his hand wasn't around your throat right now. "You're full of surprises, you know that? How's that for that sweet brain, baby girl? Huh?"
Your face twists up. "Uh—uh-huh!" You can't breathe, can't think, in the best way. Lips wobbling, you pant, "I like it!"
That has his hips coming down on you in a different way. He falls over your back and drags in the scent at your neck like he's huffing something stronger than the sweet scent of sex on your skin. But it does something electric to him. His abs tighten against your spine, grinding his cock into you like he could be any deeper than this. It feels like he's up in your stomach, you brain, dressing that up just like he does to the rest of you. "Fuck." His voice crumbles into tatters. "You smell so fucking good. Like candy." He kisses at the spot that you, even in this state, recall with a jerk to be where you had sprayed that perfume. It had melted into the warm pulse there, faded down into the base notes. The kiss isn't enough. He presses his tall nose right into it and grabs at you so hard that it aches. "I'm not gonna last long, baby. God, you're getting more of this stuff. I'll buy you more before we—" His wet forehead falls into the soft spot between your shoulders and where your nape begins, every rolling thrust like he's staving off an orgasm coming just from the olfactory sweetness of you.
You've long since raked red-hot lines down his taut forearm, but a particular tightening of his fingers at your throat and a wet slide that hits just the right spot without you having to ask sends you over like a house of cards. The arch in the very angle of your back bows back against him. The suite falls away, all of Hawaii and your agreement follows, until you're just a girl under a man who knows exactly how to play you. "I'm cumming!" you say, all but stumbling over the warning. "Help!"
You don't know what the hell you're saying, and he's off the deep end too. He throws you up the bed and digs his knees in to gain purchase and something in that scent he caught, in the thoughts that had been festering in his head all night, comes alive. He rails you right into the sheets and takes what he needs as you claw at the pillows and sheets through yours. Because with him, you're gonna cum first if he has to grit his teeth and pull out just to make sure he doesn't first.
"That's it," he growls. "That's my spoiled girl." Then his own hips stop and each stutter of them as he fucks it into you, each pant and breath into your shoulders and kiss to the back of your head, tells you that he's followed you down. As his weight smothers you into the pillows, grounding you and suffocating you until you can come down and breathe again, he makes your hair into a loose ponytail to reach the soft parts of your neck that the tangle of it hid.
His heartbeat at your back reverberates into your chest. Speaking into your face as he takes the softness of your cheeks and watches them squish under his fingers, he says, "How's that for leaving you wanting?" There's a lazy, pleased light in his eyes. What else could a man need, more than a pretty girl glowing with post-orgasmic bliss under him, in a bed he put her in, in a frilly, rumpled dress that only he could afford? Nothing. He was living the life that other men loathed him for. He nips the turn of your shoulder and says, "You were put on this Earth to test old bastards like me, huh?"
You can hardly give him an enthusiastic smile. Probably.
ash⦂ #needthat like i finished this in a haze at 4am before a shift so if that tells you anything about how i was feeling…
well, i thought i could resist you, but something in me just can’t help but insist to blur the lines just one last time
/// sleep token, dangerous
pairing: yeonjun x fem!reader
summary: sometimes love and hate exist on opposite ends of the map. other times, on separate floors of the same building.
genre: ex!yeonjun / enemies to lovers au / neighbour au
warnings: slow burn, baaaaad mutual pining & intense yearning, jealous!jjun, somewhat evil!tyun (he has good intentions though), strong language, suggestive themes, detailed descriptions of smoking, excessive drinking, helpless flirting, some angst to spice things up
words: 15k (rip)
[ ! ] this is a sequel to equilibrium
masterlist / read from the beginning
✦ • ─── AUGUST 29, 2026. 4 AM
Yeonjun couldn’t sleep. His head felt like a cutlery drawer, rattling every time he rolled onto his other side, steel scraping steel.
Did it hurt the knives, he wondered at around four in the morning, to brush against other knives?
By six, he must’ve drifted off for a good twenty minutes, until a faint rustling near the windows woke him again. He blinked blearily just in time to catch Violet’s silhouette slipping under the heavy black curtains.
She hopped onto the windowsill and sat down in front of the only window in the flat that actually opened. It didn’t even look it; the frame had been caked in thick layers of white paint. Only the latch gave it away – a tiny brass catch, half-hidden beneath the lower frame in the far left corner, noticeable only by the peeling paint around it.
He hadn’t realised what the latch was for until you pointed it out to him that day on the stairs. Apparently, Violet had watched him work it once and memorised it.
She settled on the sill, her backside shoving the curtains aside. A narrow slit opened—he suspected he might’ve hung the drapes upside down—and through it, Yeonjun could make out the sharp outline of her whiskers against the pale light outside.
He lay still and watched.
With the precision of a surgeon, Violet slipped a paw into the far corner. Her whiskers twitched.
Tap.
Tap tap tap.
Nothing happened for a while.
Yeonjun frowned into the darkness.
Surely, he thought, she didn’t have the strength to move the latch. The thing was stiff even for him some mornings. It might’ve meant that the window had been opening on its own every day, then, or—
The brass catch jerked sideways with a tiny click.
The window frame loosened immediately.
Yeonjun stared.
Violet rose onto her hind legs and pressed her front paws against the bottom of the window, leaning her full weight forward. She was small—plump and very round, yes, but so small. Even if she’d mastered the latch, she shouldn’t have been capable of pushing the window open.
The frame creaked an inch upwards.
“Violet,” Yeonjun warned.
The cat turned, shooting him a look of profound irritation, like a single mother of five on her third consecutive night shift: don’t start with me right now, boy. Then she turned back and kept pushing.
The window scraped open just enough for her to squeeze onto the fire escape. Her back paws scrabbled briefly against the sill before disappearing outside.
Yeonjun stared, unblinking, for another minute.
Honestly, he should’ve used Violet to fight crime. Or rob banks.
Instead, he listened to the faint rhythm of her paws on the metal stairs as she climbed the fire escape towards your flat.
Upstairs, you dreamt that you were driving Reina’s old Honda.
The steering wheel thrummed in your hands as you drove along a narrow, two-lane road. The car rattled at higher speeds, and something in the dashboard buzzed as though you’d trapped a bee behind there somewhere, but it remained reliable as always.
The asphalt glistened; it must’ve rained recently. Now that you thought of it, you could almost smell the moisture in the air.
A bright blue car sped past, overtaking you.
You barely registered it.
Then, a few minutes later, the same blue car appeared again, passing you from the opposite direction.
Sunlight flashed against the windscreen, obscuring the driver’s face. The car was unfamiliar, yet you felt strangely worried that this was the last time you’d see it. You hoped it wouldn’t be.
You lowered the sun visor. Ahead, the road curved sharply left, and the car groaned as you turned the wheel.
For a while, you drove alone.
Soon, you spotted the blue car again. It was parked on the side of the road near a lake to your right, the hazard lights blinking lazily in the sunlight.
You pulled onto the gravel beside it, relieved.
As you stepped out of the Honda, you realised you were suddenly standing in the woods; the roadside was surrounded by trees.
Chestnuts, you thought at first. Then you narrowed your eyes.
Oaks.
You approached the blue car. The driver’s door hung open, but there was no one inside.
As you walked closer to the shore, past the trees, you saw a man sitting on the rocks in the shallows, sleeves rolled to his elbows, staring across the lake. This was the driver, you knew. You had to check on him.
You crept towards him. Your feet—why weren’t you wearing shoes?—slipped on the wet stones. The trees around you vanished.
The man turned—and the sound of something creaking jolted you awake.
Your eyes snapped open to the darkness of your room. For a disorienting moment, the dream clung to you: you could still hear the commotion of Reina’s old car, still smell the rain.
Then you heard Violet squeezing through the narrow opening in the window, right on schedule. She landed silently on the floor and padded toward the living room, careful, as though trying not to wake you.
The bedroom door creaked when her hind leg brushed against it.
Violet froze.
You closed your eyes, not wanting to spook her.
Silence. Then, the quiet patter of her paws fading into the living room.
Sighing, you rolled over, the sheets tangling around your legs. You reached blindly for your phone on the cardboard boxes by the bed. The screen flared to maximum brightness. Groaning, you squeezed one eye shut and tried to enter your PIN; Face ID refused to recognise you in the dim light.
Then you opened both eyes again.
Yeonjun, you realised, had been the driver of the blue car in your dream.
How strange.
You needed to text him, but yesterday’s conversation still lingered somewhere at the back of your mind. Just thinking about talking to him again made you feel like you’d swallowed something dense.
You pushed yourself onto your elbows, inhaled once, and opened his contact.
YOU [6:59 AM]
violet’s here
she’s welcome to stay but ive got to leave at 4
You’d barely lowered the phone before it buzzed against your palm.
YEONJUN [7 AM]
thanks
i’ll pick her up before you leave
The cursor blinked at the bottom of the chat on your screen.
You stared at it for a second, then set your phone down beside the pillow and climbed out of bed. A draft blew through the open window. You pushed it shut and headed into the kitchen to refill Violet’s water bowl.
The moment you appeared through the doorway, Violet abandoned her position by the curtains and wound herself around your legs instead, searching for entertainment. Her tail got caught beneath the hem of your pyjama bottoms, hitching the fabric upwards.
You knelt to scratch under her chin. Her purr vibrated against your palm.
“Let’s see if we can get some light in here for you, yeah?” you said, standing again.
Still half-asleep, you filled the bowl and went to the window. The curtains dragged heavily along the rail when you pulled them open.
It was a dreary, overcast morning outside. The building across the street looked even more muted than usual under the grey clouds.
Violet approached the window. She poked it with her nose, puzzled by the lack of sunlight, then glanced back at you.
“S’the best I can do, little one,” you said. “Cloudy day today.”
She replied with a small, resigned meow and turned back towards the window. A moment later, the faint reflections dancing across the glass seem to win her over.
You left her nestled between your flowerpots and started your morning.
✦ • ─── AUGUST 29, 2026. 3:45 PM
Fifteen minutes before you needed to leave, you stood in front of the mirror by the bathroom door, holding your breath as you misted setting spray across your face. It smelled oddly of hairspray.
The dress you’d bought for tonight was sleeveless and blue. Beaded detail ran along the slit—it had already left glitter scattered across your thigh.
When you first saw the dress in the shop last week with Reina, it reminded you of the photograph your grandparents kept on the mantelpiece in their living room. In it, your mother was posing with her date before their school dance. She wore a dark blue dress—sleeveless—and had her hair braided half up. She was smiling.
It was your favourite picture of her.
You’d spent the morning thinking about it while you pinned the braided sections of your hair back. The curled ends now rested across your collarbones.
You leaned closer to inspect your mascara and caught the edge of a price tag peeking from the side seam of the dress.
“Shit—”
The doorbell rang.
Startled slightly by the sound, you tightened your fingers around the plastic of the tag and ripped it clean off the seam. The edge nipped your palm. Hissing, you shook your hand once and dropped the tag into the bin by the kitchen island.
Behind you, Violet sat primly on the back of the sofa, licking her paw, as though she, too, was getting ready for Reina and Soobin’s engagement party.
“Got a feeling that’s for you, baby,” you said, nodding towards the door. “Come on.”
Violet chirped and jumped down.
She discovered the hem of your dress just as you opened the door. Her claws snagged in the fabric, catching and releasing the blue material with increasing enthusiasm.
Yeonjun stood on the doorstep.
He opened his mouth—and closed it right after.
All he registered, initially, was the deep blue of your dress. Then the ruched fabric at the waist and the small cutouts on both sides of your midriff.
Then the rest of his thoughts abandoned him to seek employment elsewhere.
You bent down before Violet could shred the hem. She resisted your hands, twisting in place. When you gathered the ends of the dress, she leapt back and wiggled her behind ominously, her pupils blown wide.
“You like the dress, baby?” you murmured, scooping her up before she could launch herself at you. She looked mildly startled at being lifted, but not especially offended. “Come on, then.”
Yeonjun thought he liked the dress.
Although, admittedly, he could’ve slept better if he hadn’t caught a glimpse of your thigh through the slit when you bent down. He suddenly felt as though he ought to sit down and have a bottle of water. Perhaps two bottles.
“Hi,” you said. “You alright?”
Your voice shifted slightly, and he realised that you weren’t speaking to the cat this time.
With all the grace and composure he could muster, he said, “I—uh—it would—I mean, yes. Yeah. I’ll be off, then.”
He pivoted sharply towards the stairwell.
You blinked after him, fingers still running down Violet’s spine.
“And Violet?” you called.
Yeonjun stopped dead.
“Yes!” he said, whirling around before he could fully register the heat climbing up the back of his neck. “Of course. I’ll be off with Violet. I—we will be off together.”
He gathered the cat, careful not to brush your hands in the process. At this point, he was convinced that any skin contact would finish him on the spot.
You stepped back.
He dared a glance at you.
You were looking down now, smoothing the fabric of your dress over your hips.
The sunflowers, he noted, were still on your kitchen island beside you, bright yellow and offensively alive. He stared at them, trying to work out who else could’ve got them for you.
It was still just this one bouquet in any case, as much as it irked him.
He’d got you fourteen.
You were surprised to find him still standing on your doorstep when you looked up.
“Later, then,” you said, a little awkward.
Yeonjun blinked, snapping back to awareness.
“Right,” he said. “Later.”
He escaped down the stairs.
Once the door of your flat clicked shut behind him, he let out a breath that seemed to rattle all the way through him.
Violet meowed in his arms. He could tell she knew he’d embarrassed himself.
“Don’t laugh at me,” he warned as soon as he unlocked his door. He tapped gently between her ears before scratching under her chin. “M’going to have a very, very long night tonight. I need your support.”
Violet, when properly motivated, offered excellent support.
Today, however, she felt strongly motivated to do three things exactly: use her litter box, demolish half a pouch of tuna in her bowl, and fall asleep directly on Yeonjun’s favourite pillow on his bed.
Yeonjun spent a solid hour trying to get her interest back; no luck.
Now he stood alone in his bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror under the bulb overhead. His hands shook as he attempted to tie his tie. The knot collapsed again.
It had been a long time since he’d needed to do this.
The last time, you’d stood in front of him. You’d been wearing blue too, though the colour had been lighter then. Your fingers had been warm against his throat as you fixed the tie for him, tightening the knot with one precise tug. He remembered the concentration on your face, the brush of your knuckles under his jaw.
He stared at his reflection for another moment.
Had that been the beginning of the end, then? Dinner with his parents, his crashed car. Had he given you even one happy memory in those last few days?
He yanked his tie off and threw it onto the counter beside the sink.
Fuck it, then.
He’d go without one.
What did it matter anyway?
He’d show up at the restaurant, congratulate Soobin and Reina, smile when appropriate. Then he’d drink until he couldn’t recognise himself in any mirror anymore.
✦ • ─── AUGUST 29, 2026. 7:30 PM
By the time Yeonjun arrived at the restaurant, everyone else was already there.
If he’d stopped to think about it, he might’ve found the sight endearing: the entire group of friends, formed years ago in university auditoriums and dormitories, still turning up for one another like this. Some of the other guests, he recognised, Soobin had known since kindergarten.
It was loud and very crowded here.
His mind was elsewhere.
He bumped into Soobin’s parents right by the door; his mother had earrings the size of small planets. They wanted to know how his family was doing.
“Fine, I expect,” he said, and walked off before they could ask what he meant. He hoped they’d assume he was drunk.
The restaurant had been decorated in excess, not unlike a royal wedding: white and gold everywhere, with balloons on the ceiling, on the walls, and stuck to the back of Kai’s head as Taehyun attempted to explain that hairspray was supposed to reduce static. There were enough flowers here that Yeonjun had heard Beomgyu sneezing from the street outside.
He saw you right away.
You stood near the main table in the centre of the room in your blue dress, one arm wrapped loosely around Reina’s shoulders. Nara stood opposite you, gesticulating wildly as she spoke, her bracelets flashing under the lights.
Then Soobin arrived and leaned over to murmur something into Reina’s ear. She laughed and pulled back from you with a quick wave.
Smiling softly, you turned to watch them go.
Yeonjun stared at that smile right up until he tripped over a loose ribbon trailing from the enormous banner stretched across the wall: REINA and SOOBIN 2027.
“Sorry,” he muttered to the approaching waiter, who bent to fix the ribbon.
On instinct, Yeonjun grabbed two champagne flutes from the tray in the waiter’s hands. Without hesitation, he downed the first one, dropped it back on the tray, and set off towards you and Nara with the second still in hand.
He figured he’d come up with something intelligent to say on the walk over.
Unfortunately, the walk was very short.
“Hi,” was the best he could do. “Where’re the betrothed?”
Nara, deducing the question wasn’t meant for her, took a sip of her champagne.
You turned towards him.
His hair was slicked back, but several dark strands had already escaped the gel and fallen over his forehead. He wore a black suit with a white shirt underneath. The buttons were golden.
Your gaze dropped, uninvited, to the exposed line of his neck. He wasn’t wearing a tie.
“Appetiser emergency,” you said, turning back ahead. “Something’s wrong with the salmon.”
“Ah,” Yeonjun said.
You were almost exactly his height in your heels. He became acutely aware of having a throat.
He wondered if he knew any fun facts about salmon. It wasn’t naturally pink; would that help the conversation? Also, was salmon the fish that could leap two meters out of water or was that—oh God, he was dying.
“W-wanted to apologise for being late,” he added, “but guess that’ll have to wait, then.”
“Hmm.” Nara smiled into her glass. “Bold of you to assume they even noticed you weren’t here.”
You snorted before you could stop yourself.
Yeonjun glanced at you and smiled despite the jab.
Good choice, then, not going with the salmon facts.
“Still,” he said, draining the rest of his champagne in one gulp. “S’rude of me. D’you need me to get you another drink?”
You didn’t immediately process the offer. Nara tilted her head meaningfully towards the empty flute in your hand, a knowing grin on her lips.
“Oh.” You rotated the stem of the glass between your fingers. “No. I’ve got it.”
You smiled at Nara and stepped away towards the bar.
It took Yeonjun a few seconds to realise you meant you’d go and get another drink right this instant, and not in a moment. He watched you walk away and tried to decide what a decent waiting time was before he could casually turn up next to you again.
Nara asked him something.
He didn’t hear a word and answered with a noncommittal grunt.
Guests crowded around him, and Nara, bored now, walked away to join them, momentarily blocking his view. He lost sight of you.
Just as something uneasy began to tighten in his stomach, he spotted your blue dress again near the bar by the far wall.
“You’re here!”
Yeonjun flinched at the clap on his shoulder and turned around.
Soobin and Reina stood behind him, both already flushed from champagne, their eyes sparkling. Reflections from the hanging lights flickered in Reina’s golden earrings every time she moved her head. Soobin, noticeably, couldn’t look away from her pink dress for more than two seconds at a time.
Just looking at them made Yeonjun remember how to smile.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said, giving them each a nod. “Congratulations, guys. The place looks beautiful.”
Over the last year, Reina had stopped looking at him like she might one day strangle him with her bare hands. For a while, she hadn’t looked at him at all.
Tonight, she smiled and lifted her glass slightly in acknowledgement.
“Thanks, man,” Soobin replied, smacking his shoulder again.
Yeonjun nodded awkwardly. He wanted to offer a more heartfelt sentiment for the occasion, but couldn’t stop thinking about salmon.
“You find the drinks alright?” Soobin asked.
Automatically, Yeonjun glanced towards the bar.
You were still there.
“Not yet,” he said, slipping the empty flute behind his back. “Thought I’d get one now, actually.”
“Of course,” Soobin said easily. The room was delightfully fuzzy around him. He loved champagne. “Enjoy yourself.”
Nodding again, Yeonjun disappeared back into the moving crowd.
Reina watched him leave, the corner of her mouth twitching.
She’d seen you by the bar.
✦ • ─── AUGUST 29, 2026. 8 PM
As the first round of appetisers began circulating through the restaurant—small, buttery things topped with salmon and herbs that you and Reina had taste-tested earlier that afternoon—people drifted back to their tables.
Conversations mellowed into an expectant hum; the instrumental music on the speakers quieted.
It was time for the toasts.
Naturally, this took ages.
Everyone here had known each other too long to tell a short story. Every memory required context, three unrelated anecdotes, and at least one interruption from another table.
Reina and Soobin’s parents being here tempered some of the wilder tales, although not by much. Reina’s father, already out of his jacket, cheeks rosy from champagne, laughed louder than anyone in the room whenever someone started implying things they probably shouldn’t have.
Your personal favourite remained Beomgyu’s passionate retelling of how Reina had, over time, replaced Soobin for him.
It had started innocently enough: he’d go over to Soobin and Yeonjun’s to use their PlayStation for a few hours. Soobin usually joined him. Then, one time, Reina appeared in the doorway of Soobin’s bedroom, wincing. She had better things to do than watch them play, but Soobin was getting demolished, and she thought it reflected poorly on her. She took over the controller and proceeded to beat Beomgyu three times in a row before she got bored and left again.
“That,” Beomgyu said, hand pressed to his chest, “deeply impressed me.”
His champagne flute became part of the story. He mimicked Soobin’s aim and sloshed the drink across the tablecloth. Gestured at Reina again and nearly sent the whole glass flying.
The more people laughed, the louder he spoke.
“I’ve decided,” he concluded finally, “that I prefer playing against Rei. Least she can make a jump without respawning ten times.”
Another wave of laughter drowned out Soobin’s indignant yelps of protest. Reina leaned against his shoulder, hiding her laughter in the crook of his neck.
Beomgyu raised his glass higher.
“Anyway,” he announced, “can’t wait for your wedding. Cheers!”
Glasses rose around the restaurant, followed by applause. Soobin reached instinctively for Reina’s hand. The smile on her face beside him was bright enough to light up the whole building.
The warmth from their table radiated through the restaurant, settling into conversations as the evening wore on and people splintered into smaller groups.
Reina’s mother eventually settled down beside Taehyun at his table—she seemed to have adopted him the moment he’d brought her a fresh glass of champagne; her third one tonight. Her husband had suggested a two-glass limit. She suggested it was time for her husband to go home.
Across the room, Yeonjun leaned back, one arm draped over the back of his chair, and observed your conversation with Beomgyu a few tables away—for about a minute. Then he counted to three, finished the rest of his champagne, and rose to his feet.
Beomgyu, meanwhile, had taken it upon himself to revisit Taehyun’s earlier statement about static and hairspray. He rubbed a white balloon vigorously against the back of his head while he explained the theory.
His hair was beginning to lift.
“I believe you,” you said, already smiling despite yourself. “But, uh—you’re not worried this will ruin your hairstyle?”
“No, no, look.” He rubbed harder, oblivious to the strands floating upward around his ears. “I’m saying hairspray creates resist—”
“All that electricity can’t be good for you.”
You felt Yeonjun sit down beside you before you turned your head. He held another champagne flute in his hand.
Something inside you relaxed at the sight of him. Then this instinctive reaction set your teeth on edge.
“Lightning’s going to get you,” Yeonjun added, nodding towards Beomgyu’s hair. “How’re you going to make it to Nara’s birthday party next week, then?”
Beomgyu lowered the balloon slowly.
“This has got nothing to do with lightning,” he said. Then, less confidently: “Has it?”
Distracted by his growing concern, he missed the look you gave Yeonjun.
“No,” you said, unable to stop yourself from playing along. “It’s not raining right now anyway.”
“It’s not—but when it rains?” Beomgyu smoothed one side of his hair back down. Perhaps, he thought, he hadn’t used enough hairspray.
“Then we’ll be able to use you,” Yeonjun said, “to tell if there’s going to be thunder.”
Beomgyu frowned and turned back to you again.
“’Cause your hair will stand up,” you explained, gesturing at his head, “like a lightning rod of sorts.”
Yeonjun snickered quietly into his drink.
Realisation dawned on Beomgyu’s face.
He fixed you both with his most practised glare, scoffed, and pushed himself up from his chair.
“You guys think I’m five years old,” he said, pointing at you, then at Yeonjun, “don’t you?”
Beomgyu hummed. Then, suspiciously solemn, he stepped around the table and leaned in before Yeonjun could react. Static crackled through the air as he rubbed the balloon against the back of Yeonjun’s head with ferocious enthusiasm.
“Oi! What—”
He ducked under Yeonjun’s outstretched hands, cackling, and darted into the crowd.
Grimacing, Yeonjun peeled the balloon away from his hair. A few strands remained standing upright.
“What a little shit,” he muttered.
When he looked up, you were already gone from your seat.
He pressed his lips together.
He sat there for a moment, balloon in hand, listening to the noises in the restaurant: the scrape of chairs, the laughter dissolving into the low rhythm of music. The balloons drifted by his feet whenever the kitchen doors swung open.
He didn’t know what to do with himself.
He couldn’t just sit here with this fucking balloon.
Near the main table, Soobin’s mother swayed to the music with both of Reina’s parents. The two women giggled loudly, clearly already tipsy. Soobin’s father joined them, balancing a tray of drinks in one hand.
Yeonjun watched them for a moment without really seeing them.
Then he spotted a passing waiter and stood. He traded his empty flute for a full one—then reconsidered his current circumstances and took the whole tray instead.
The champagne was dry and unremarkable, but it did the job. He guzzled half the glass and fell back into the crowd.
A few minutes later, he found you again.
This time, you were talking to Kai in the warm light near the kitchen doors.
A little tipsy and very conversational, Kai spoke with his entire body. Champagne kept sloshing dangerously close to the rim of his glass every time his hands flew up, the restaurant lights catching the bubbles.
Currently, he was filling you in on everything you’d missed at university while you were in New York.
“I thought he left because he got a better offer somewhere,” you said, raising one eyebrow.
“No.” Kai shook his head hard enough to splash champagne onto the cuff of his shirt. He didn’t notice. “No, no. He was sleeping with two undergrads at the same time, and they found out about each other.”
Your second eyebrow rose to join the first. “And then?”
“And then,” he continued, thrilled, “the undergrads teamed up and went straight to the Board together. Told them everything, brought screenshots. And now he’s fired.”
You chuckled, rotating the champagne flute in your hands.
“Nice,” you said. “Love it when women collaborate.”
“We should’ve seen it coming, honestly,” he said, sipping from his half-empty glass. “Something was always off with his classes. Serves him right for being such a rigid—”
“Serves whom right?”
By now, you’d half-expected Yeonjun. You didn’t bother turning around.
He stopped beside you anyway, close enough that you could feel the warmth of him against your arm. He tipped his head back and emptied the champagne in his glass in one swallow. He’d left the tray on the table behind him and glanced over his shoulder to make sure it was still there.
“Professor Johnson,” Kai told him. “He got fired.”
Yeonjun had absolutely no memory of a Professor Johnson.
Honestly, five glasses in, he was starting to have no memory of what he was even here for.
“No way,” he said. “What’d he do?”
Kai, buzzing at the opportunity to retell the story, started from the very beginning.
You listened for approximately two seconds, up until you had to duck away from Kai’s gestures. Then, lips pursed to fight back your laughter, you finished your champagne and left Yeonjun to endure the story alone.
And endure it he did, nodding at appropriate moments—more or less—while simultaneously scanning the restaurant for you. Kai’s hands grew increasingly more animated beside him.
There.
You’d joined a group of girls near the windows. Yeonjun didn’t recognise any of them, but you clearly did; laughter softened your features as you leaned towards one of them. The blue of your dress shimmered in the light every time you moved. The entire restaurant seemed to swim around it.
Kai noticed Yeonjun’s wandering attention mid-sentence.
He followed Yeonjun’s gaze across the restaurant, hand already reaching to drag him back into the conversation—until he spotted you near the windows and stopped.
Abandoning his efforts to resume the story, Kai walked off in search of more champagne before Yeonjun drained the place dry.
Yeonjun barely noticed him leave.
You were still laughing, which was good. He wanted you to keep doing that. Wanted the music on the speakers to quiet down, too, so he could hear you better. He also wanted—
Taehyun appeared beside you. He slipped smoothly into the conversation, apologised to the girls surrounding you, then leaned in to whisper something in your ear.
Yeonjun decided, immediately, that he needed something stronger than champagne.
By the time he crossed the restaurant towards you, a glass of whiskey in hand, Taehyun was already grinning.
Earlier in the evening, he’d been too busy charming Reina’s mother to pay much attention to anything else. Now, however, Reina’s parents were gathering their coats near the door, and Taehyun had redirected his energy into the next most exciting thing: tracking Yeonjun’s every move.
“It’s you again,” Taehyun said, raising his soju shot in greeting.
You glanced at Yeonjun. He met your gaze head-on and held it for an entire half-second.
“It’s me again,” he said.
“Have you had anything to eat?” Taehyun asked, eyeing the glass in Yeonjun’s hands. “Or just the drinks, then?”
“Just the drinks, then.”
“I see.”
Yeonjun swayed faintly where he stood. You turned your face so he wouldn’t see the smile threatening your lips.
“We were just talking about you, you know,” Taehyun added.
Yeonjun turned his whole body towards you. The golden light from the lamps carved dramatic shadows along his cheeks.
“Were you?” he asked.
“We were,” you said. “Noticed you’re very sociable tonight.”
The implication reached him about a second late. You watched him narrow his eyes, then take another sip.
“Guess I am, then,” he said.
“Any reason for that?”
He shrugged. Then shrugged again.
“My best friend’s engaged,” he said finally. “M’happy.”
You glanced at Taehyun just in time to catch the grin he was trying to hide by swallowing his soju. He placed the empty shot glass on the table next to him and turned back to Yeonjun.
He’d already noticed that every time you drifted into another conversation somewhere in the restaurant, Yeonjun reappeared minutes later with a fresh drink in his hand.
Naturally, Taehyun figured, this called for a small social experiment.
“Hm.” He stepped back to look you over with exaggerated consideration. “Have I told you you look stunning in that dress?”
Your eyebrows lifted.
Beside you, Yeonjun finished the rest of his whiskey in one alarming gulp. Ice knocked against the glass when he lowered it again.
“You haven’t,” you replied. “Thank you.”
Something in your dry tone amused Taehyun very much.
He decided to expand the scope of his experiment.
“Have you seen the photographer?” he asked, glancing around the restaurant. A few groups of people had started loose, tipsy dancing circles between the tables.
“I haven’t.”
You didn’t follow his gaze, which made Taehyun’s smile widen immediately.
Clueless, Yeonjun turned around. He had seen the photographer earlier—hard not to; the man had an aggressively white suit. Looked like a bishop in a game of human chess. Or the pope. Did popes wear white?
Salmon! Salmon was naturally white.
Before Yeonjun could point out the photographer with the salmon suit, Taehyun reached for your hand.
“We should take a picture together,” Taehyun announced, pulling you gently towards him.
You resisted instinctively, your heels dragging against the floor tiles. “Haven’t we already?”
“Not just the two of us.”
Your expression flattened immediately.
Taehyun, emboldened further, slid his free hand into the inside pocket of his jacket and withdrew his phone.
“Yeonjun,” he said pleasantly, holding it out. “Would you mind?”
A strange moment passed.
Yeonjun looked at the phone.
Then at Taehyun.
Then, finally, at Taehyun’s hand still wrapped loosely around your wrist.
The bustling restaurant seemed to fade around him. Someone dropped something near the kitchen; it sounded like a knife or a fork.
Slowly, Yeonjun accepted the phone.
Taehyun was surprised; he’d been convinced this would be enough. Back in grad school, Yeonjun would’ve combusted by now.
Alright, then.
Interesting.
Taehyun dropped his hand to your waist.
Yeonjun stared at the screen of Taehyun’s phone as though he’d never encountered such technology before. After a second, he set his empty glass down on the windowsill behind him.
Taehyun stepped beside you. Warmth pressed along your side as he nudged you even nearer.
“What are you doing?” you muttered under your breath.
“Trying to see something,” he whispered back. Up close, his breath smelled distinctly of soju, although it was hard to tell whether he was already drunk or still on the way.
Meanwhile, Yeonjun finally unlocked the phone. The screen tilted in his hand, the restaurant lights smearing across the glass until the apps blurred together.
He opened the email and stared, perplexed, at the writing on the screen. What the fuck was DHL and why—
This wasn’t right.
Finally, he found the camera.
He stepped back until the windowsill pressed against his hip and raised the phone, deliberately not looking at either of you.
Taehyun smiled at once. Pinned to his side by the weight of his arm around your waist, you managed something polite enough to pass for a smile, too.
Yeonjun took one picture.
Then another.
Then several more in quick succession, his thumb tapping faster each time.
You hadn’t realised how rigid you were until the muscles in your upper back started to burn. Taehyun, on the other hand, looked perfectly at ease beside you.
The moment he started snickering, unable to hold it in any longer, you stepped away and fixed him with a disapproving look.
You had long suspected that prolonged exposure to Beomgyu had caused permanent damage to his brain. The two of them rubbed off on each other in all the worst ways sometimes.
Taehyun’s smile didn’t so much as twitch as he took the phone back from Yeonjun. “Thanks!”
He swiped through the photos until he reached the first one with you in it and exhaled dramatically. He no longer worked at the theatre, but he’d clearly retained the flair for performance.
“Ah.” He sighed. “We look good together.”
Lips pursed, you glanced down at his phone.
The overhead lights glinted off the screen. You lifted a hand to block the glare, your shoulder brushing against his.
“Although,” Taehyun added just as you leaned in, “you do look a bit like a police sketch. I mean that respectfully.”
You snorted, pinching the screen to zoom in on your faces. Your eyes were completely lifeless in the picture.
“No, yeah,” you said, “I look like I’m wanted in twenty-five countr—”
“You look beautiful,” Yeonjun said.
Taehyun’s head shot up, victorious.
Slowly, you looked up, too.
Yeonjun still stood by the windows, one hand absently twisting the golden ribbon tied around the white curtain. The restaurant tables reflected on the glass behind him.
He was looking at you.
For a moment, you couldn’t seem to do anything but look back.
Taehyun grinned.
“Do you two want a picture together?” he asked, very pleased with himself.
You dropped your gaze first. “That won’t be—”
“Yes,” Yeonjun said.
Taehyun’s smile spread.
“Alright,” he said, stepping back and gesturing between the two of you with his phone. “Go on, then.”
You glanced at him, contemplated briefly what life in prison would be like, then turned to Yeonjun. He shifted to one side, making room for you next to him.
You didn’t move.
“Come on,” Taehyun urged. “Haven’t got all day.”
“No?” You cut him a look. “You can go, then.”
He plastered on a kind smile.
“I’d rather stay,” he said. “Go on now, come on. It’s just a picture. Or is something the matter?”
You pressed your lips together and turned away.
The dull sound of your platform heels against the tiles seemed unnaturally loud as you crossed the space towards Yeonjun. By the time you stopped next to him, your heart had climbed so high into your throat that you couldn’t swallow.
Taehyun raised his phone. On his screen, you and Yeonjun looked like you were two presidential candidates forced to stand next to each other before an important debate.
“Wow.” He tsked. “This is extremely awkward.”
You scoffed, your thoughts tripping over fifteen different retorts.
Yeonjun cleared his throat next to you.
“I, personally,” he said, one eye blinking slower than the other, “think s’nice.”
Taehyun openly beamed. He was having the time of his life here tonight. Soobin and Reina should get engaged every day.
“I like the sound of that,” he said, taking a step closer. “Just—here. Let me help.”
He caught Yeonjun by the elbow and nudged him closer to you with enough force to make him stumble half a step. Then, laughing under his breath, he pried your wrist from your resistance and placed your hand against Yeonjun’s chest.
You couldn’t breathe.
“There,” Taehyun said, stepping back to admire his work. “Much better. Now closer.”
You moved perhaps half an inch.
Taehyun shook his head.
“Closer,” he repeated. And then, closer, closer, closer—three more times, until you could feel Yeonjun’s heartbeat against your own.
His cologne curled around you, the same one, reminiscent of citrus and wood. Of cold air. Of late-night drives in the rain. Low-lit kitchens and quiet music on the speakers.
“Smile now,” Taehyun instructed.
You tried.
The shutter clicked—once, twice. Then twice more.
You were painfully aware of every point of contact between you and Yeonjun: the warmth beneath your hand, the sound of his breath, the thumping inside your chest and right against it.
Finally, Taehyun lowered his phone.
You took a step back, hands automatically reaching for the zipper of your dress just to have something solid to hold. Cold air prickled across your arms.
Taehyun had already started flicking through the photos, his head cocked to one side as he studied each one. You moved back to his side.
No one spoke for a minute.
The pictures were awful.
They looked like they’d been taken years ago, sometime in university, even, before the distance and the silence and all that came after. They looked like nothing had happened at all. You could not look away.
Beside you, Taehyun glanced up from the screen.
Up until now, this had all been a laugh: push Yeonjun’s buttons here, see how red his ears get there. But now Yeonjun was standing by the window, looking at you and not the pictures, and Taehyun realised there was something here that he hadn’t accounted for.
He glanced back down at the pictures. At the way Yeonjun had angled himself toward you in every frame. The way your fingers rested easily over the white line of his shirt.
For months, Taehyun remembered, every time he’d tried to bring Yeonjun up around you, you shut it down straight away.
I don’t know what you’re on about.
We were just joking.
Nothing really happened.
Right, then.
People who meant nothing to each other did not fall back together that easily.
“Great,” you said finally. The slit of your dress pulled slightly against your thigh as you took a step back. You glanced quickly towards the bar. “Um—great pictures.”
Taehyun looked up at you.
His experiment, he thought, could give you one more push.
“Yeah?” he said lightly. “‘Cause we can have a re-do.”
You turned back to him. “No. This is good.”
“Hm.” He swiped through the pictures again, smiling. “Are these your first photos together?”
Yeonjun quietly shook his head.
Taehyun didn’t notice and glanced back up at you, expectant.
You cleared your throat. “No.”
He nodded, scrolling further back to the earlier photos of you and him.
“Well,” he said. “I reckon ours turned out better anyway.”
Your expression relaxed just a little.
“We look natural,” he continued, zooming in. Your eyes, he noted, hadn’t looked this empty with Yeonjun. He continued anyway, “and comfortable. Like we actually enjoy spending time together.”
By the window, Yeonjun visibly stiffened.
You clicked your tongue. “M’not enjoying spending time with you right now.”
“No?” Taehyun’s tone remained innocent. “Would you prefer I left you two alone, then?”
“Actually—”
“Yeonjun?” Taehyun finished, turning his head towards him.
“Yes,” Yeonjun said. “I would.”
Aha, Taehyun thought.
Just a bit more now, he was sure.
“Oh,” he said, sliding his phone back into his pocket. “Don’t mind me, then.” He flashed you a grin, all teeth and vice and everything nice. “I was just having such a nice time catching up with you. We should do it more often.”
“We saw each other on Thursday,” you said.
“And yet I already suffer tremendously.” He reached for your hand again. “Maybe we should—”
“Excuse me.” Yeonjun stepped forward abruptly, forcing you and Taehyun apart. “I need to use the restroom.”
He lingered between you for a heartbeat, his thoughts spinning and tripping over one another. Then he kept walking.
Your perfume still swam around him. Your hand had been on his chest less than five minutes ago. The space between you and Taehyun—
He needed a minute before his nervous system gave up on him for good.
You watched him disappear through the restroom doors. Beside you, Taehyun made a strangled sound suspiciously close to a laugh.
You turned slowly towards him. “You little snake.”
Taehyun exploded with all the amusement he’d been holding back, one hand comically braced against his stomach. His shoulders shook hard enough that nearby people started glancing over.
“You should see your face,” he wheezed. “I nearly—”
“What’re you trying to do here?”
Still spluttering, he managed to straighten up.
“Nothing at all,” he said. “Just celebrating.”
Before you could question him further, he sighed happily and leaned in to press a quick kiss to your cheek—purely to annoy you one last time.
It worked.
“Taehyun.”
Laughing again, he sauntered towards the rest of your friends.
At some point during the evening, the floral centrepiece on the main table had been replaced by an unstable tower of jelly shots—Soobin, Reina, Nara, and Beomgyu were currently involved in a fiercely competitive game of jelly shot Jenga (JJ, as Beomgyu called it three rounds ago and now refused to call it anything else).
Judging by the alarming redness of Soobin’s cheeks, Reina was currently winning.
Taehyun arrived just in time to watch her slide another shot from the middle row. The structure held.
She threw both arms into the air so abruptly that she nearly sent Soobin tumbling into the table.
“Yes!” she shouted.
“I’m a little scared of you,” Nara said.
Laughing, Reina caught Soobin by the front of his jacket and pulled him into a kiss that he accepted with immediate enthusiasm.
He looked a little dazed when she pulled away, thrilled by her victory and their engagement and all their friends being here. He leaned back into the table dreamily.
“Bin—” Nara’s voice died in a high-pitched squeal as Soobin’s sleeve brushed the side of the middle row.
The tower collapsed at once, shot glasses staining the formerly white tablecloth in beautiful shades of the rainbow. Screeches rang around the table: Soobin—it wasn’t my fault—SOOBIN—I DIDN’T MEAN TO—
Beomgyu was doubled over with laughter as he tried to salvage the bottom row. Taehyun assisted him by dutifully swallowing every shot he was handed.
Before anyone could recruit you into helping rebuild the disaster, you turned away, walking towards the coat rack. You rummaged through your handbag until your fingers found your cigarettes; the cardboard pack was slightly crushed at one corner. You grabbed it, found your lighter, and slipped towards the back exit.
Outside, the evening air was cool against your bare arms.
The alley beside the restaurant smelled of damp brick and smoke. Headlights swept past the opening of the street. Somewhere further down the block, a group of teenage boys shouted loudly at one another.
You inhaled deeply and held the cold in your lungs for a moment. Then you opened the pack of Camels.
It was New York that had reminded you of the old habit.
Everyone there seemed to smoke socially: outside bars, museums, small European restaurants (the performative ones, with dreadful lighting and cocktails that nearly put you in debt, and the genuine ones, with great food and small windows).
You’d grown fond of standing outside with strangers, white smoke curling through the conversations, sharing lighters, borrowing cigarettes. It gave your hands something to do and, more importantly, it provided a great excuse to leave any room.
Yeonjun did not know about this habit.
When he finally left the restroom—after splashing cold water on his face and staring at himself in the mirror for a minute—his eyes automatically began searching the restaurant for blue.
Nothing.
He scanned the room again.
Still nothing.
Concern prickled through him as he grabbed another whiskey from the bar and started circling the restaurant in search of a familiar face. Someone had to have seen you.
Glittering dresses, glasses of champagne, and those endless fucking balloons all blurred past him.
Finally, he spotted Kai by the windows.
Unfortunately for Yeonjun, Kai had already been briefed on Taehyun’s ongoing social experiment and had decided, out of scientific curiosity, to become complicit.
“She left,” Kai said. “With Taehyun, I think.”
In reality, Kai knew, Taehyun was getting a new tray of jelly shots with Beomgyu, hoping to rebuild their tower.
Yeonjun, of course, did not know this.
“Yes,” Kai said in response to his gobsmacked expression. “Like two minutes ago, maybe.”
Yeonjun scanned the restaurant a third time, faster now.
You definitely weren’t here.
And neither was Taehyun.
Something heavy dropped straight through his stomach.
“Right,” he muttered. “I’ve got to go.”
Kai watched, fascinated, as Yeonjun abruptly turned and crossed the restaurant. Still clutching his whiskey glass, he barged past groups of people and disappeared through the back exit.
That was very interesting.
Taehyun, Kai thought, sipping his champagne, was going to enjoy hearing that the breaking point for Yeonjun had apparently been the mere possibility of you leaving the party with someone else.
✦ • ─── AUGUST 29, 2026. 10 PM
Yeonjun found you the moment he shoved through the steel door.
The metal slammed against the wall hard enough to make you jump. Your cigarette nearly slipped from your fingers, scattering ash across your hand and the wet concrete at your feet.
You looked up.
Yeonjun stood beneath the flickering exit sign. It tinted his face a sickly green. His chest rose and fell beneath the open collar of his shirt, a little too fast. His hair had started coming loose; several dark strands now hung over his forehead.
For a second, he simply stared at you. The frigid air had slapped some clarity back into him, though not enough to undo the whiskey.
This, he concluded, was the smoking area, then.
“Y-you’re not here with—” He stopped himself with a long exhale. “Okay.”
You stared back at him, completely thrown.
Slowly, Yeonjun reached back and pulled the door shut behind him. The noise from the restaurant dulled immediately, leaving only the hiss of tyres somewhere beyond the alley and the quiet electric buzz of the exit sign.
He moved away from the door and leaned his back against the wall opposite you. The whiskey glass in his hand trembled slightly, the ice tapping against the edge.
His gaze dropped to the cigarette between your fingers; your second one.
“Didn’t know you still smoked,” he said, patting distractedly at his chest until his fingers found the inside pocket of his jacket.
You chose not to question why he’d followed you out here.
“I don’t,” you replied, bringing the cigarette to your lips.
He smiled. “Yeah?”
You exhaled toward the alley. “Yeah.”
“Cool,” he said, pulling out the crumpled red package of Marlboro from his pocket. “I do.”
He planted a cigarette between his lips and nodded towards the lighter you were still clutching in your hand. He had his own, but he couldn’t care less for it right now.
You flicked the lighter open.
Yeonjun leaned forward and misjudged the distance completely. He stumbled half a step closer, ending up nearly shoulder-to-shoulder with you against the wall. Whiskey sloshed dangerously in his glass. You took a cautious step aside.
“Sorry,” he murmured around the cigarette. “You mind?”
You held the flame up to him.
This time, he leaned in carefully. The cigarette tip glowed orange in the dark, briefly illuminating the soft curve of his mouth. His cheeks hollowed as he took a drag.
You lowered the lighter and looked away.
“Smart idea,” you said, nodding towards the glass in his hand, “bringing your drink here.”
He followed your gaze downwards as if he’d forgotten he still had the whiskey with him.
“Yeah. Oh—” He glanced back at you. “You want some?”
You hesitated for only a second. “Dry throat.”
He held the glass out immediately.
You took a large swig. The whiskey burned harshly going down, but settled warm in your stomach.
“Thanks,” you said, handing the glass back.
His hand curled around it without looking, fingers grazing yours as he steadied the cigarette against the rim and took another drag. His lips brushed the edge of the glass.
Smoke drifted from his mouth in a thin silver stream, dissolving into the dark.
You only realised you’d been staring when your heart forgot its rhythm.
Turning away, you crossed one arm over your waist and lifted the cigarette again. Smoke filtered down into your lungs, calm and almost soothing.
“You should drink more,” Yeonjun said, staring absently into his glass.
“Yeah?” you said. “As much as you did tonight?”
A tired smirk pulled at the corner of his lips.
He wasn’t going to defend himself. He felt one prolonged blink away from falling asleep against the wall.
For a while, the two of you stood in silence while the smoke drifted upward between you before dissipating into the cold night air. The brick wall was rough and chilly against your shoulders, but you didn’t move.
You weren’t standing nearly as close to Yeonjun as you had in front of Taehyun’s camera, but this was somehow worse. As if without the proof of his heartbeat against yours, you couldn’t be sure he was actually here.
“Taehyun was being an idiot back there, you know,” you found yourself saying. “He didn’t mean anything.”
Yeonjun exhaled smoke slowly through his mouth.
“I know,” he said.
You glanced at him again, taking in the exhaustion on his face. The night seemed to hang off his shoulders.
“What’s going on with you, then?” you asked.
He huffed out a small laugh.
“Several things,” he said, turning his head towards you. “I’m a machine. Got loads of ongoing processes and—”
“Yeonjun.” Your voice softened. “Be real right now.”
The smile faded from his face. “I am real.”
“So, what’s the matter with you? What’s with inserting yourself into every conversation I’m having?”
He scoffed, his shoulders tightening against the wall.
“What?” he said. “I can’t talk to people now?”
“You can,” you said evenly. “Why’s it always the same people I’m talking to, though?”
He took another drag from his cigarette and tipped his head back against the wall. His gaze wandered towards the narrow strip of night sky visible above the alley as he exhaled the smoke. No stars tonight; too many streetlights drowned them out.
“Just happened that way,” he said. “The restaurant’s smaller than it looks.”
“Right.”
You turned away from him and brought the cigarette back to your lips. The paper crackled as it burned.
“Did your grandad get you those sunflowers?” Yeonjun asked.
You blew out the smoke. “What?”
“The sunflowers you’ve got at home.” His eyes stayed fixed on the sky. “Are they from your grandad?”
Your brows pulled together. “Where is this coming from?”
“Just—just answer the question.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Are they from your grandad?”
You exhaled through your nose, smoke trailing with your breath. You didn’t know when he’d noticed the sunflowers.
“They are,” you said.
He dropped his gaze back to the pavement. “Okay.”
You stared at his hands for a second. His fingers relaxed around the glass.
“So nothing’s going on with you, then,” you said, tapping ash onto the pavement. “Just acting crazy for no reason.”
He scoffed around the cigarette, teeth sinking briefly into the filter.
“Well, why should I tell you if something was going on?” he said. “You don’t want to talk to me.”
“That—” You watched his hand tighten around the glass again. “Is that the problem?”
“I don’t know,” he said. Ash fell from the end of his cigarette in grey flakes, dropping over the toes of his loafers. “I’ve got too many problems to keep track of them all.”
“What—”
“I’ve decided,” he cut in, pushing himself off the wall, “I’m going to go back to the party now.”
You watched him stub out the cigarette against the bricks behind him. It hissed faintly as it died.
This was starting to feel surreal.
“Okay,” you said slowly. “And do what?”
He tossed the filter into the bin by the door.
The smile on his face was crooked and a little mean when he looked back at you. You knew it well.
“Well,” he said, stopping in front of you, “that’s none of your business now, is it?”
“It wouldn’t be,” you said through a stream of smoke, “if you weren’t interrupting every conversation I tried to have tonight.”
“M’not interrupting,” he said. “Just joining. S’called mingling.”
You scoffed. “You’re not mingling.”
“Yeah, I am,” he said, and the whiskey finally showed its face in the sluggish click of his tongue against his teeth. “And you don’t get to have a problem with it, because you don’t want me.”
Your fingers froze around the cigarette.
Yeonjun leaned heavily back against the wall beside you, as if the effort of the words had drained whatever energy he had left. He lifted the whiskey and took a long sip. It was mostly melted ice now.
You turned to face him fully. “What—what does that even mean?”
“It means m’going to go,” he said, but didn’t budge. His eyes flicked briefly towards the door beside him before snapping back to you. “Oh—or would you rather I wait, so you can go back first? Just in case, yeah? Have to be safe.”
You pressed your lips together tightly enough that your teeth clicked.
“We’re doing this shit now?” you said.
He shrugged. “Guess we are.”
Slowly, you dropped your cigarette onto the pavement and crushed it beneath your heel before tossing the remains into the bin. You brushed your palms together.
“Okay.” You met his eyes. “You can go back first. Just don’t make tonight worse for yourself than it already is.”
“Oh, worse, yeah.” He shifted, shoulder resting against the wall, angled towards you. “How d’you reckon I could make it worse?”
You clicked your tongue and crossed your arms over your chest.
“If you have to ask that,” you said, “then you clearly already know.”
A flicker of satisfaction crossed his face. He knew you wouldn’t answer him properly.
He took another sip from his glass.
“No, actually,” he said. Everything inside him was burning. “S’the whole point of asking a question. It implies not knowing the answer.”
“Okay, wise-ass. How much have you had to drink tonight?”
He turned his head, grinning. “If you have to ask that, then you clearly already know.”
You rolled your eyes and turned away from him. “I see we’re still twelve.”
“Thirteen and a half now,” he replied. “Been over a year since we were last out together.”
The tightness in your chest spread lower, frigid along your spine.
“Has it?” you said.
He glanced at you without lifting his head from the wall. “I’m offended you wouldn’t remember.”
“Why would I remember a bet we had for two weeks?”
His gaze dropped to the whiskey glass hanging loosely from his hand. The green light from the exit sign shimmered weakly across the surface, catching on the half-melted ice cubes.
For a moment, he just watched them swirl.
Then, quieter:
“Was that all there was, then?”
The silence that followed landed like a weight on your shoulders. It took you a moment to realise there wasn’t anyone else around to answer him for you.
“You said so,” you replied, tightening your grip around yourself.
Yeonjun sniffled.
“I didn’t mean that,” he said—out loud, for the first time.
You scoffed so quickly, it nearly startled him.
“Yeah?” you said. “Did that only take you a year and a half to figure out, then?”
“No.” His voice dropped. “I knew I didn’t mean it the moment I said it.”
“Then why’d you say it?”
You asked the question, but your body was already preparing to leave. Your weight shifted, one knee bent slightly. Your eyes darted towards the door once, then once more.
Yeonjun wished he’d drunk more so he wouldn’t have noticed.
“Are you going to let me explain properly,” he asked, “or do you just want a quick answer so you can keep hating me?”
You watched him for a long moment after that: the darkness in his eyes, the tight set of his jaw, the mess of his hair. Your hands dropped to your sides.
He didn’t know, then, that there was very little he could say that would actually make you hate him.
You looked away towards the mouth of the alley and waited for a car to drive by so you could breathe again.
“I don’t hate you,” you said.
Yeonjun let out a slow breath. He wasn’t hearing you.
“Sure feels like you do,” he mumbled.
Above you, the exit sign seemed to buzz louder.
“I wish I did,” you said.
Yeonjun looked up.
The alcohol must’ve dissolved whatever sense he still possessed, because your words seemed to hit him hard enough to knock his heartbeat into a painfully familiar rhythm.
Now he heard you.
“W-what does that mean, then?” he asked.
You shook your head once. “Means you should go back in. Mingle.”
“No.”
He pushed himself off the wall too quickly and had to steady his balance before he lowered the whiskey glass carefully onto the pavement. Then he took a step closer.
“Explain,” he said. “You don’t hate me?”
You straightened instinctively against the wall, startled by the proximity.
“No,” you said.
“Why not?”
He suspected that might have been a stupid question. And still, his eyes moved slowly between yours, searching your face for the answer. There was nothing secretive left in him tonight; he’d drowned his restraint in the whiskey.
He wanted to know what he was to you now.
Wanted to be close to you.
Wanted you.
“Hating you,” you said, forcing yourself to hold his gaze, “would mean I care about you.”
Yeonjun felt his stomach twist.
He’d heard you say this before: in the dark of his wardrobe room, surrounded by hangers of his clothes and hardly able to take a breath.
“Right,” he murmured, and the darkness in his eyes seemed to grow. “You don’t care.”
The alley around you suddenly felt much too small.
“Right,” you echoed.
“Mm.” He nodded once, eyes still fixed on yours. “Still want to jump out of a window every time I open my mouth, yeah?”
Your breath caught at the question. You could almost feel the plywood backing of his wardrobe against your spine again. Could almost smell the old wood.
“Sometimes,” you said.
His lips twitched.
“Sometimes,” he repeated. A slow smile touched his lips. “That’s better. I like that you’re honest.”
“Mhmm. I’ve never lied to you.”
Surprise flashed in his eyes. You were handing his words back to him.
He remembered you calling him performative for saying that to you back then. Remembered the quiet night and the way you refused to look at him, no matter how much he’d wanted you to. Remembered how desperately he’d hoped you’d believe him then. How desperately he hoped for it now.
The whiskey churned in his stomach.
He moved half a step closer before he realised he was doing it.
“You’re lying to me right now,” he said quietly.
You could hear your pulse in your ears. “I’m not.”
“You are.” He was close enough for your vision to blur around him. “You do care.”
Shivers raced down your spine, so sudden that they almost hurt.
Yeonjun waited. He needed you to admit that you cared. Needed proof that what you said wasn’t true.
You needed it to be true.
When you didn’t speak, he raised one hand. His fingers brushed the ends of your hair, cautious in case you’d shove him away. The touch was light enough that you barely felt it, yet every nerve ending inside you seemed to focus there anyway.
Gently, he swept your hair over your shoulder, exposing the side of your neck to the cool night air.
He really liked your hair tonight.
Really liked that the rest of the alleyway swirled around him, but you stayed completely still.
“S’why you’re out here now,” he murmured. “Asking me what’s the matter with me.” He pulled back just enough to look at your face again. “Because you care.”
“I care,” you replied, breathless, “about the way you’re making us look in front of everyone.”
He tilted his head slightly. “And how am I making us look?”
“Bad.”
“Mm.” He leaned closer again. The toes of his shoes nudged the platform of your heels. “Why?”
His fingertips brushed your face before you could answer, a little cold and feather-light against your skin. Your shoulders pressed harder against the wall behind you.
You didn’t speak.
“Why am I making us look bad, love?” he repeated softly.
Your lungs tightened around the next breath.
Then his palm settled fully against the side of your face, devastatingly familiar.
Your eyes closed before you meant them to.
His thumb brushed over your cheek.
You blinked your eyes open again.
“You’re making it look,” you whispered, “like there’s something here.”
“Hmm.” He was close enough now that the warmth of every word reached your skin before the meaning did. “And there’s nothing here, yeah?”
There was nothing here: every inhale brought his chest against yours. Every exhale brought his mouth closer.
You squeezed your eyes shut again and took a breath.
The alleyway wrapped around you. Cars drifted by on the street. The exit sign pulsed loudly overhead. His cologne clung to the smoke in the air.
It was cold here.
The bricks were rough against your spine.
Before your mind could catch up to you, you pushed yourself off the wall and kissed him.
Yeonjun exhaled against your mouth, nearly choking as he caught your lips between his. His hand tightened at your jaw, still soft, but firm enough to hold you there. To tell you, wordlessly and desperately, not to pull away too soon.
His lips were soft and faintly bitter with smoke.
It was new, this taste of him. You didn’t like not knowing it.
Your hands caught instinctively in the lapels of his jacket, fingers tightening in the fabric as his shoulders loosened under your touch. He sighed against your mouth, emptying his lungs completely so he could breathe you in instead.
Your gloss was still sweet, still tasting faintly of cherry.
He hoped it would haunt him forever.
He tilted your head back to deepen the kiss—so slowly that you felt every moment of it: the parting of his lips, the slight tremor when you pulled closer.
Your fingers found the back of his neck and slid upwards into the strands of his hair. He made a small sound when you tugged lightly.
It went straight through you.
His other hand slid down to your waist, pulling you away from the wall and into him until your balance disappeared into the kiss. Your grip on his jacket tightened; your breath sped up.
“D’you care about me?” he murmured against your lips.
Your response came as a muffled breath, fingers tightening in his hair.
“Tell me,” he whispered, the words barely coherent. “Tell me you care.”
“I care.”
The kiss changed at once; his mouth moved against yours faster, rough with want. It stole the breath straight from your lungs.
His grip tightened around you. He could feel the texture of your dress against his palm, could feel the heat of your skin when his fingers brushed the cutouts on the sides of your waist.
He broke the kiss with a sharp, helpless gasp.
He was so fucking drunk.
“Fuck,” he whispered. His forehead dropped against yours. His lungs felt hollow, but his chest—his chest was so full. “Fuck, fuck, fu—”
“I’m sorry—”
“No.” Both of his hands framed your face instantly. “Fuck, baby, no—” He pressed his lips to yours again. “No.” And again. “Not sorry.” And again. “Not sorry at all.”
Each kiss seemed to carry something different: regret and relief, questions he wanted to ask you, promises you wouldn’t let him make.
You were drowning in the warmth of his mouth, in the solid press of his chest against yours. In the unbearable ease with which your body remembered him.
The tension softened, but your mouths still lingered together in small, quiet touches.
One more kiss.
Another.
A pause that should’ve been the end of it.
Then one more kiss anyway.
And another—
When you finally pulled apart, neither of you could breathe properly.
Yeonjun stayed close enough for the taste of his whiskey to linger on your tongue. Close enough that, if you leaned forward even slightly, you could kiss him again.
“That—” You reached up to wipe your smudged gloss from the corner of his lips with your thumb. He wished you’d left it there. “T-that shouldn’t have happened.”
Something painful flickered in his eyes.
He smiled, but that only made him look sadder.
Slowly, he stepped back. His hands slid down your arms, fingers lingering on your skin for a moment longer before falling away.
“Of course,” he said.
“I mean it.”
“I know you do, love.”
He took another step back and turned away, dragging a hand across his face as he tried to pull himself back together. You watched the line of his shoulders for a minute, your lungs unconsciously syncing to the rhythm of his breathing.
Then you dropped your gaze to the pavement instead. There were cigarette burn stains across the concrete, dark little circles.
“I-I’m going to go,” you said. “And we—we shouldn’t talk again tonight.”
He didn’t move.
A car drove past the alley.
You swallowed hard. “I need verbal agreement from you.”
Yeonjun shut his eyes.
You’d always recovered faster than him. Always been better at drawing lines and standing behind them.
“We won’t talk again tonight,” he said at last, still facing away from you.
The alley felt unstable around him now. If he looked back, if he saw your face again, he knew he’d drag you against him and start this all over again.
“Okay.” You pushed yourself off the wall. “That’s good.”
You moved silently enough that he barely heard you cross to the door. The hinges creaked when you pulled it open.
“I missed this, though,” he said before he could stop himself.
The door stopped moving.
Yeonjun didn’t turn, but he felt you freeze behind him all the same.
He pictured you standing in the doorway, one hand still on the handle, eyes lowered, fighting the same expression you’d worn yesterday in the stairwell.
That would haunt him forever, too.
“Don’t,” you whispered. It was a plea. “I—I’m going.”
The door shut behind you.
Yeonjun took a long, shuddering breath. He dug his lighter from his back pocket. It was nearly empty.
He needed another two cigarettes before he could force himself to go back inside.
✦ • ─── AUGUST 29, 2026. 11:30 PM
Soon, people began to leave the party in small groups, lingering in the doorway of the restaurant with jackets slung over their arms, hugging each other goodbye three times before actually parting. Laughter kept spilling out onto the pavement. Every few minutes, someone suggested, ‘one more for the road, yeah?’
You and Yeonjun were both still here.
Since coming back inside, neither of you had looked directly at the other.
Yeonjun, who had technically honoured his promise not to speak to you again tonight, kept checking the time on his phone to see exactly when tonight would finally be over.
Most of the pleasant whiskey buzz had already started wearing off. Now he was left with a dull headache pressing at the back of his skull.
While Reina and Soobin stood near the entrance, thanking people for coming, you quietly began tidying the remnants of the evening so they’d have less to deal with later.
Before long, Taehyun and Nara showed up to help.
The three of you moved easily around each other through the half-empty restaurant, stacking scattered plates, gathering abandoned champagne flutes, rescuing forgotten handbags and suspicious flash drives from underneath tables.
Every now and then, one of you would laugh at something, and the other two would soon join in.
The sound irritated Yeonjun instantly.
He wanted to be part of it.
He stood near the back of the room with a half-empty whiskey glass and spent nearly a full minute debating whether helping you clean would count as breaking the agreement between you.
Eventually, he decided it wouldn’t, as long as he didn’t speak.
Twenty more minutes until midnight.
“We used to stay out until four in the morning at least,” Nara remarked as Yeonjun silently took a stack of empty plates from her hands. “Is this us getting old?”
“It’s not,” Soobin called from the doorway. He clapped one of his old school friends on the shoulder before turning back inside. “The restaurant has working hours, s’all.”
“And you didn’t think about the after-party?” Nara asked.
“I think they did,” Taehyun cut in before Soobin could answer. “We’re just not invited.”
Behind you, Reina succumbed to giggles, leaning against Soobin’s shoulder while he fought to suppress his grin. She swayed lightly in her heels.
Seventeen more minutes, Yeonjun thought. And he can make a comment, too.
Beomgyu and Kai returned from the restroom and were dispatched, at once, to stack chairs while the rest of you finished clearing the dishes.
Finally, after apologising to the exhausted staff for staying late, all eight of you stepped outside. A few of the guests were still here. Apparently, there weren’t enough taxis in the city for everyone.
Phones glowed across the pavement. Somewhere farther down the street, a man argued with an Uber driver in a language you didn’t recognise, but seemed to understand perfectly. His hands flailed wildly in the direction of the intersection up ahead.
Reina and Soobin had planned in advance and ordered a taxi half an hour ago.
It arrived first.
The two of them climbed into it to raucous applause and dramatic cheers from the pavement, as if they were off for their honeymoon rather than just heading home. Fully committing to the performance, Reina rolled down the window and gave everyone a graceful royal wave.
You laughed.
They looked radiant tonight. You couldn’t stop watching them.
A few steps away, Yeonjun couldn’t stop watching you.
Another five minutes later, an Uber rolled across the street, the headlights washing everyone’s jackets silver-white for a moment.
You checked the license plate against your phone and reached for the back door.
“Bye!” Taehyun called after you.
“Text me when you get home,” Nara added automatically. Despite all her complaints about the night ending, she sounded ready to curl up and fall asleep right there on the curb.
You gave them both a wave and ducked into the backseat.
The sight of your hand disappearing behind the edge of the door made something inside Yeonjun drop hard enough to leave him briefly weightless.
All he remembered was taking a breath.
“Hello,” you said to the driver, reaching back to pull the door shut—only for it to jerk backwards.
Yeonjun climbed into the backseat, nudging you to a side, and slammed the door shut.
You stared at him. “W-what the f—”
“105 Dove Road,” he told the driver. “Thank you.”
Then, as though none of this was remotely unhinged behaviour, he turned towards the window and gave someone outside the restaurant a lazy little wave. Nara was visibly staring.
The Uber driver watched Yeonjun through the rear-view mirror for a very long second.
“Miss,” he said cautiously, his eyes shifting towards you, “is that the right address?”
Your surprise doubled at his question. Not many men bothered to check in with a woman when another man answered for her.
You glanced sideways at Yeonjun’s expectant, utterly unashamed eyes.
Sighing, you scooched across the backseat towards the opposite window and gave the driver an apologetic nod. It wasn’t his fault Yeonjun was insane.
“Yes,” you said. “He’s my neighbour.”
“Okay.” The driver shrugged easily. “Just making sure.”
“Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
He nodded and carefully backed away from the curb, manoeuvring around another Uber that Nara was currently attempting to climb into while still laughing at something Bemgyu was saying through the open door. He was pointing directly at your car.
Behind them, Kai had his phone out and seemed to be taking pictures of you.
This was great.
For a moment, you considered blocking everyone in your contacts.
As the Uber slid into dwindling Saturday night traffic, Yeonjun closed his eyes and sank deeper into the seat, letting his head fall back against the headrest. You kept your eyes fixed on the window instead of him, watching the streets smear past in streaks of neon.
He hummed beside you. “Warm here.”
You gritted your teeth.
“What did I tell you we wouldn’t do again?” you asked, trying not to let your voice carry to the front of the car.
Yeonjun gathered his hands on his lap. “We wouldn’t talk tonight.”
“Right,” you said. “And what are we doing?”
He cracked one eye open.
Ignoring the slow spin of his surroundings, he dug his phone out of his pocket and heaved it as though it weighed several kilograms. The screen lit his face with a ghostly glow.
“It’s technically tomorrow,” he mumbled, holding the phone vaguely in your direction.
His lockscreen showed 12:12 AM.
His arm dropped again, head thunking softly against the seat. You stared at him for a second.
“I’m starting to think you really are unwell,” you informed him.
A faint smile appeared on the corner of his lips. “We live in the same building.”
“That is not why you got into my car.”
Yeonjun opened his eyes and slowly rolled his head towards you.
“No?” he said softly. “Tell me why, then.”
Clenching your jaw, you looked back out the window. Further away from the city centre, most of the shops had gone dark. A pair of drunk men stumbled past a deli with their arms slung around each other’s shoulders.
“You wanted everyone to see it.” Irritation sharpened your voice. You wished you’d drunk more tonight. “Wanted to send everyone some message. Like you’re marking your fucking territ—”
“No,” he said, eyes sliding shut again. “S’actually because you said we shouldn’t talk again tonight. And then we didn’t, even though you were right there, and now I feel a little bit like m’dying. S’all.”
A violent shiver snaked down your spine.
“That’s your future hangover,” you said.
“No.” His lips twitched slightly. “S’just you.”
He heard you draw a sharp breath and opened his eyes to find that you’d closed yours.
When you eventually looked back at him and found him already watching you, you still didn’t speak.
“I’m sorry,” he blurted. “I can’t—I shouldn’t be saying shit like this. S’not your fault we ended up here anyway. I’m the one who fucked up and—”
“Yeonjun.”
It didn’t sound like a demand for him to stop speaking.
He didn’t know what it sounded like.
“I—” He swallowed and dragged a hand roughly down his face. The tips of his fingers felt like ice against his cheeks. “Right now, I’m really drunk.”
He paused, then frowned.
That wasn’t right. He’d developed a solid alcohol tolerance over the last year, but he’d transcended even that tonight. He seemed to have acquired some sort of higher spiritual condition now, available only to those courageous enough to drink their weight in liquor.
His head felt detachable.
Oh—a bit like Eeyore’s tail, he remembered. He’d had a plushie as a kid. The Velcro on the tail had worn out, and he constantly worried he’d drop it in some shop and lose it forever.
A fresh wave of horror washed over him – what, then, if that happened to his head?
“You’ve been drunk the whole night,” you said when he didn’t add anything else.
He shook his head weakly against the headrest—it hadn’t detached yet, thank God—but didn’t say anything else.
Outside, the city darkened further. The pavements emptied street by street. The Uber passed cafés with shuttered windows, dark office buildings, and lonely bus stops bathed in the cold glow of streetlights.
Yeonjun watched your reflection in the glass of the window.
Even in this state, he could tell that the conversation was ending again, and there was no promise of it starting again tomorrow. Or the day after.
Actually, maybe the real conversation between you had ended a long time ago. Maybe it ended that day in grad school.
Everything since then had just been coincidence, like you said.
Just circumstances.
And Violet.
God, he missed Violet.
She was probably sprawled across the middle of his bed by now. She’d probably try to suffocate him in his sleep later for abandoning her all evening, and to be fair, he thought he deserved it.
“I…” He hesitated, swallowing the bitter taste in his mouth. “C-could you stay for a minute after we get back? I want to talk to you.”
The shadows across your face shifted in the passing streetlights.
“Think we’ve talked enough for one night,” you said.
“Please.”
You continued to watch the city rush past the window.
Quietly, you found yourself thinking of your dream again. Thinking of the way the blue car—was that Yeonjun’s dead Nissan?—had kept passing you on the road. How relieved you’d felt to see it again.
You thought you knew better than to believe in dreams.
Carefully, you turned your gaze to the floor of the car. You could see Yeonjun in your peripheral vision, leaning back against the seat. He was still watching you.
“Fine,” you said at last.
You didn’t know if you knew better.
✦ • ─── AUGUST 30, 2026. 12:45 AM
When the driver finally stopped outside your building, you made sure to leave a significantly larger tip than you’d planned—partly because he’d treated you like an actual human being, but mostly because he’d been forced to listen to two people spiral for about half an hour, and no one deserved that on a Saturday night.
Yeonjun climbed out first.
You followed more slowly, smoothing your dress once your heels hit the pavement. The night air was damp against your skin, cool enough to sting where your pulse still raced. You were very tired.
For a moment after the door shut, the two of you stood beneath the streetlights and watched the Uber disappear down the street.
The silence that followed felt old.
It reminded you of grad school again. Of the long nights outside your building with Yeonjun standing near the entrance, his hands buried in his pockets, while neither of you looked for a reason to say goodbye.
You remembered not wanting to disturb Reina by bringing him upstairs. Remembered how, even then, wanting him that much had felt unsafe.
You wondered whether one day you’d stop remembering.
“Look,” Yeonjun started with a ragged sigh. “Maybe I did get into that car with you to send a message.”
Your gaze flicked to him.
“But not to them,” he added. “To you.”
Wind moved through the empty street, stirring the birch trees lining the pavement. Their leaves whispered overhead.
You knew you shouldn’t ask the next question.
You’d spent over a year closing those doors inside you, stacking anger against them. Pride against them. Grief. Anything to keep them from opening again.
But some exhausted part of you seemed to have quietly resigned itself to the fact that this was going to hurt regardless of whether they opened or not.
“What message?” you asked.
Yeonjun stared at the cracks in the pavement under his loafers. There was still some ash on the left one.
“I don’t want to not talk to you anymore,” he said, digging his nails into his palm to force the street to steady around him. “Or only run into you in the lobby sometimes. Or just—just be a neighbour to you. I c—I can’t do that with you.”
You felt heat flare under your skin: at the back of your neck and on the side of your face and across your lips. Everywhere he’d touched you tonight, as though he’d left invisible marks that he could trigger just with his voice.
They burned at the thought that you wouldn’t talk anymore.
That you would only run into each other sometimes.
That you would only be neighbours.
“I can’t do that with you, either,” you said, turning your gaze towards the dark building across the street. Only a few windows still glowed.
Yeonjun watched you, holding his breath.
Hope was a very dangerous thing to hand him; he didn’t know how to hold it.
“So what does that mean?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” you admitted, fingers clutching the fabric of your dress. “Maybe it means we shouldn’t talk at all anymore.”
He shook his head, stubborn even drunk. The street tilted around him and bent backwards. He stumbled slightly and caught himself against the nearest lamppost, his shoes clattering against the metal.
“No,” he said. “That—that can’t be what it means.”
He looked pale under the feeble yellow of the streetlight. Looked like he’d stay here until he became part of the lamppost.
“Why not?” you said.
He steadied himself against the pole, fingers tightening around the freezing metal. “Because it’s you and me.”
“So?”
“So we’ve always been talking.”
Your gaze drifted down to the base of the lamppost. “Much good it’s done us.”
Horribly, he realised that was true.
He had nothing concrete to offer you to prove that talking to him was worth the effort.
He’d failed to prove to you he was a good boyfriend back in grad school. Failed to tell you what mattered when it mattered. Failed at everything he’d tried.
And he’d never taken himself for much of an optimist, yet, despite all of that, he still stood here, in the cold, with tired eyes and whiskey for blood, his shoulders slumped beneath his suit jacket, looking at you like he still intended to get everything right this time.
It was you.
It had always been you.
He knew he’d carry that around with him for the rest of his life, whether you wanted him to or not.
“That can—everything can change,” he said.
He couldn’t tell whether the nausea twisting his guts came from the alcohol or the look in your eyes. Maybe both.
“It shouldn’t,” you said.
“Why not?”
“Because it—” You stopped yourself with a sharp exhale and looked down at the stubborn grass forcing its way through the cracks in the pavement. When you spoke again, your voice had gone quieter. “We can’t do this again, I told you. I’m sorry about what happened toni—”
“No.” The force of his interruption snapped your gaze back to him. “Don’t apologise for anything that happened tonight.”
You held his gaze for a second before looking away again. “I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
“I wanted you to.”
The more he spoke, the less you seemed to move.
He let go of the lamppost, but didn’t dare step closer.
“That doesn’t make it better,” you said.
“Why not?”
You shook your head. The pins in your hair had started digging into your scalp, and every tiny movement hurt. You didn’t have many more why nots left in you.
“We can’t do that again,” you said.
“But we—we’re not doing that again,” he argued. “It’s different now.”
“It’s not, though. It’s still us. Nothing’s different.”
“But you won’t even let me talk to you.” Agitation sharpened his words now; he’d stopped trying to soften them. “So how can you know that?”
Your fingers pressed into fists. “We’ve talked enou—”
“No, we haven’t! We never talked about what we were—what we were doin—”
“Well, whose fault is that, then?” Your voice cracked through the empty street. You looked at him with eyes bright enough to burn. “I wanted to talk to you! I fucking—I tried to talk to you. Back in grad school, I tried. Twice. Both times, you walked away without explaining shit. ‘Things were happening.’” You scoffed. “Fuck that. Now you want to talk? Now, over a year later, you want to fucking talk?”
“I want to explain why it took so long,” he said quickly. “I—”
“No,” you cut through him. “No, we’re not doing that. You think it—think I’m fine, yeah? Said I’d forget about you. Why wouldn’t I? I’ve never been bothered by people leaving, right? Like water off my back, every single time.” Your chest shuddered as you tried to take a breath. “We—no. No, that’s it. I—I’m not doing that again with you. I can’t.”
You turned away from him.
Yeonjun stared at the back of your dress in silence. The vivid blue looked lighter beneath the streetlights. He watched the fabric shift with each wild breath you tried to tame.
He hadn’t been thinking about your mother when he’d walked away in grad school. He’d been thinking about his own.
And it hit him, finally, that you had cared about him far more deeply than he’d ever allowed himself to believe. And he had hurt you far worse than he’d understood.
He should’ve known.
He should’ve fucking known.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
A muscle jumped faintly beneath your shoulder blades. “Go home, Jun.”
The nickname knocked against him with frightening force.
“It’s cold,” you added. “You need to sleep this off.”
Yeonjun closed his eyes. He’d already got used to the dizziness and the nausea. The real problem now was the sharp pressure around his heart.
Maybe he’d drunk enough to damage something important. Or maybe it was the broken pieces, finding new ways to break again.
“I’m—I really am sorry,” he whispered.
“I know.”
You still didn’t turn around.
He didn’t move.
“Go inside, Yeonjun,” you said again. “S’cold.”
There was a slight shudder in your voice that seemed to trail down your whole body.
Swallowing, Yeonjun shrugged out of his jacket. The cold hit him instantly through the thin white shirt beneath, but he barely reacted.
He walked towards you, keeping his gaze ahead to ignore the dizzying sway of the pavement beneath him. Taking a deep breath, he lowered the jacket over your shoulders, the fabric still warm from the heat of his body.
Your breath caught in your throat all over again.
His hands rested on your shoulders for a second. Then he stepped back.
Immediately, you were swathed in him again: smoke, whiskey, the bergamot of his cologne, even traces of your own perfume. You gathered the collar of the jacket tightly in your hand and finally turned towards the building.
The doors groaned as you pulled them open. You glanced back at him, waiting.
Yeonjun lowered his gaze and gave a small nod before following you into the lobby.
𝓲𝓷 𝔀𝓱𝓲𝓬𝓱: yeonjun choi is a well-known playboy on campus, everyone knows his deal, he doesn't do feelings.
Pairing: yeonjun x fem!reader
Words: 13.1k
Genre: smut, angst
Warnings: nsfw, angst, pwp, dom!yeonjun, one night stands, non idol!yeonjun, college au, dacryphilia, choking, a lot of hair pulling, jake pops us?
NOTES; the ending feels to sudden idek how to fix it i give up. no beta reader, sorry in advance for any mistakes, english isn't my first language. first upload kinda nervous. [this was originally a fanfic i wrote a year ago for a haikyuu character but didn't finish, so this is a revamp and has been cross posted on ao3]
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
You met Yeonjun Choi at a college party.
Yeonjun was pretty popular on campus, people called him names ranging from "dream screw" to "hit and run".
Nobody had positive feedback on this man. He was known for his charm and the way he was always able to get people to sleep with him, then leave on his tippy toes.
Yeonjun didn't do relationships. He didn't do connections. The only way he could be found was if you looked for him through his friends or if he wanted to get 'some'.
He carried himself with an effortless kind of confidence, the type that made him seem uninterested and completely in control at the same time.
↭
He was leaning against a wall with a half-full drink in his hand, a cigarette lazily resting between his lips. He had been watching you for quite a while, his sharp eyes followed your figure every time it shifted through the crammed space.
The bass thumped through the walls, rattling the half-empty beer cans on the sticky countertops. Bodies swayed under the flashing lights, but throughout all this chaos, Yeonjun's gaze remained on you.
"I think you need to get laid tonight, and this is your chance." Your friend teased you about it, having noticed that the gray haired boy had taken an interest in you. She tried talking you into approaching him, but you weren't in for trouble tonight.
Or were you?
Soon, you were left alone in the kitchen, your friend drunkenly made her way toward the living room which was the party's dance floor, probably throwing herself on some guy. That's why she was there after all.
You weren’t one to judge though, your state was similar to hers. Alcohol ran through your veins and your head buzzed as the blood made its way to your cheeks.
You stood near the kitchen holding a classic red plastic cup in hand, pretending to be oblivious to the way his gaze traced the curve of your mouth every time you took a sip or how his orbs dragged down body painfully slow and noticeable. He leaned against the doorway, watching, observing your every move.
You were making your best effort to dodge this awkward encounter by scrolling on your phone, trying to look as busy as possible. That, however, didn't mean you didn't exchange glances with him. You practically eye fucked him the entire time he wasn't looking. The way his slender hands ran through his hair, the silver ring that hugged his thumb, the occasional chuckling when his four friends joked around and his slightly hunched posture.
He was so effortlessly attractive, you felt so drawn to him but refused to let yourself fall into the trap that you were so well aware of.
It's not like you were desperate.
You were slightly different from the usual people at these parties, you weren't throwing yourself around for attention or giggling in a way that begged to be noticed.
That made you a challenge, and Yeonjun was always down for one.
With a lazy push off the doorframe, he swiftly moved through the crowd toward you, his tall figure loomed over you before you even noticed.
"What's a pretty girl like you doing all alone in a party like this?" he murmured.
When you looked up, your eyes met his. "Let me guess, got dragged here by a friend and now she dumped you?" You looked down in your cup, but as much as you wanted to deny what he said, it was the sad truth.
Fuck, he had that half smirk plastered on his face. He knew exactly what he was doing and it was pissing you off.
You exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking your head but Yeonjun took that as an invitation. His fingers tapped on the counter behind you as he leaned in, close enough for you to catch the faint scent of cologne mixed with alcohol.
"Wanna get out of here? I'll keep you company." he asked, direct and unbothered by the slim chance of rejection.
You knew exactly what that meant and what he wanted, didn’t you see this in a movie or read it in a novel? Same old.
Your lips parted, hesitating for only a second too long. You were obviously drunk but tried to hide it, making your best effort to not to seem vulnerable. But your slurred speech betrayed you.
"Why would I tag along with you, I don't even know you." You pouted trying to look tough, putting up an unphased act.
"It's Yeonjun Choi, but Yeonjun is fine." He gave you a sly look as you introduced yourself, almost as if he already knew what the next word that'd leave your mouth would be.
The place was so crowded that it forced the two of you to be extremely close. Dangerously close. So close you could feel his hot breath on your skin and his chest on your back.
If there was one thing that was undeniable, it was that you were deadly attracted to him, you didn't know if it was the alcohol or the party lights but you had to get something from him that night. Anything. Even if it was just stealing a kiss.
"So what'll it be? Wanna go somewhere else?" He repeated his question once again, this time in your ear. Heat coiled in your core at the sound of his voice as his lips softly brushed the shell of your ear.
Seems like he too, wanted something from you. Not that it was a surprise, you could tell by the way he was watching you that he was undressing you in his mind.
You followed him as he led you down a dimly lit hallway in search of an empty room.
His hand curled around your wrist, pulling the both of you in a dark room and shutting the door behind him. Muffled music could still be heard from downstairs. Your head was still spinning from the alcohol, but all you could focus on was the man in front of you. His black t-shirt hugged his chest in all the right places.
Yeonjun closed the distance between the two of you, his hands settled on your waist and he started stepping closer to you, making you take several steps back toward the bed. You could smell his breath, the smell of vodka mixed with the faint smell of cigarettes, it was, almost, intoxicating.
The heat between your thighs grew and curled in your gut.
But he didn't kiss you.
Not on the lips. No.
His lips were everywhere but your face, leaving open mouth kisses that trailed from your neck to your collarbone. His mouth was still on you as he tugged at the hem of your dress urging you to take it off. You let your hand travel to the back of his head, softly tugging on his silver hair as you let out a quiet moan of approval. His hands slipped under your dress, fingers splaying over your thighs, gripping like he's memorizing your shape.
Everything was so rushed, before you could register what was going on you were already sitting on the bed, your dress thrown into some dark corner of the unfamiliar room. You watched as he approached the bed, removing his own shirt and pants, tossing them on the floor, leaving him in just his boxers. That's how you found yourself right in front of him, in nothing but your panties, You took in the sight before you, his toned chest and arms, the way his collarbones and abs were so defined, this view was enough to make you want him more. Your face was awfully close to his crotch as he stood in front of you. You could clearly make out the outline of his erection through his underwear, your face flushed. You ran your hand over it, feeling him up.
A groan escaped his lips as soon as he felt your touch, his gaze shifted down to you in impatience. "You gonna do something 'bout this or will you keep teasing?"
You didn't give him an answer. Instead, you curled your fingers around the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down to reveal his throbbing erection.
Wasting no time, you took him in your mouth. You swirled your tongue around the tip, softly sucking it as you let your hand work up and down his length. You sunk your face closer, taking in another inch, before he pulled your wrist off him and tangled his hand in your hair. He bobbed your head in a steady rhythm, soft moans escaped your mouth sending vibrations up his cock that made his entire body shiver.
"Fuck," He groaned and with a hard tug on your hair as he pushed your head all the way down his length. You gagged at the feeling of him pressed against the back of your throat.
Your makeup had already been ruined and he was so smug about it, smirking as he pushed your head even further just to get the satisfaction of seeing you look up at him with teary eyes. Your mascara ran down your cheeks with each one of his thrusts, Yeonjun was lazily looking down at you with half lidded eyes and plump lips parted in bliss.
"Look at you." He said slyly with a smirk smeared across his face. Your eyes locked with his and your nails dug into his thigh, desperately trying to hold on to something to ground yourself.
"No touching, pretty." His teasing tone was replaced by a soft groan as you moved your hand away, and dragged your tongue on the underside of his cock. You hollowed your cheeks and he let out an, almost, pathetic whimper.
He definitely didn't mean to do that.
"F- Fuck." His head fell back in satisfaction and his breathing became heavy and loud, huffing with each movement of your tongue. Yeonjun's grip on your hair tightened as he continued pushing your head, urging you to take as much of him as you could. You felt him twitch in your mouth until-
"That's enough." He said in a hoarse voice. He removed your head from him, he slipped out of your mouth with a wet pop, a trail of saliva still connected your lips with the tip.
His fingers laced with your hair once again, a firm tug led you away from him until your hands hit the bed's surface beneath you. You gasped as he pushed you onto all fours, your body instinctively obeyed. Your breath caught when you realized the position he'd so effortlessly forced you into.
Your panties were already soaked from your arousal and the position gave him a full view of your slightly spread legs. He hooked two fingers in your panties and pushed them to the side. One digit ran through your slick folds before he pumped it inside you, adding a second one soon after. You moaned softly at the feeling of his fingers curling.
"So wet just by sucking me off? What a slut." He let out a cold laugh as he removed your panties and tossed them onto the floor.
Yeonjun spread your legs even further apart, you shivered at the feeling of cold air as it hit your core.
He teased your entrance and clit with the tip of his cock. You couldn't help the needy whimper that escaped your lips. "Jjun-"
"It's Yeonjun." He cut you off and your breath stuttered as he pulled your hips backwards. Finally, thrusting into you with one deep stroke.
"Yeonjun, Fuck." You let out something between a gasp and a cry at the feeling of him stretching you out, filling you up to the hilt, his tip grinding against your cervix.
"You’re fucking tight." He grunt with a shaky breath. His grip on your hips tightened, but he didn't give you a second to adjust. He pulled back, and slammed back in. The sound of skin slapping against skin drowned out the pounding music outside, ragged moans spilled from both of your lips.
Your thighs and ass jiggled with every rough snap of his hips colliding with yours constantly. "Fuck, look at that." He said gripping your ass, fingers digging into your soft flesh.
Your arms gave out as he kept on pounding into you, each thrust was deeper, rougher, faster. Your head fell forward. You buried your face into the pillow in an attempt to silence your ragged moans as waves of pleasure washed over your body.
Yeonjun noticed.
And he didn't like that.
His hand traced up your spine reaching for your hair, pulling it into a loose ponytail. He tugged hard on it causing your body to lift from the bed. You arched your back and your head snapped backwards as he tugged harder.
Moans involuntarily ripped from your throat as he guided your entire body with the use of your hair, pulling you towards him, as he thrusted in sync. Desperate cries left your lips as his cock dragged against all the right spots.
"Fuck- Feels so good.."
"You're really that needy, huh? Can't even stay quiet?" His voice was low, lazy, but with some edge to it. "Keep it down. Unless you want them to hear how desperate you are."
You tried your best to stay quiet, however, pleasure got the best of you, you were able to stop your moans but unable to silence your whimpers.
"If you can't be quiet, I'll have to shut that pretty mouth myself." Yeonjun said, pulling your body flush against his chest. His breath ghosted over your ear as his grip on your hair tightened just slightly. His free hand covered your mouth, shushing your noises.
He picked up the pace, he was relentless, thrusting harder, deeper, each move made your body ache in ways you didn't know you needed. Gasps still escaped your throat as your hot tears soaked his fingertips that smelt of tobacco.
He smirked, his hand left your mouth only to be wrapped around your throat tightly. Not tight enough to cut off air, but enough to meddle with the blood flow in your brain. His thumb pressed against your pulse, feeling how wildly it raced beneath his touch. A big rush of adrenaline washed over you, his pace didn't falter and hips snapped forward with precision, his cock dragged against your most sensitive spots, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.
"Yeonjun, I'm so close. Fuck."
Your orgasm built up like waves crashing over you, your vision whitened out, your body tensed so hard you could hardly breathe. Your walls fluttered around him, your entire body shook with the force of it, legs trembling on the bed as your palms tightened on the ivory sheets beneath you.
Yeonjun let go of your throat, leaving you to softly fall into the pillow. His palms moved to your hips as he chased his own high. He panted, watching the way your body trembled beneath him.
"Fuck, you feel so good around me." He groaned getting close to his own orgasm. "Where do you want it pretty?" He asked, burying himself deep.
"Inside. Pill." You say, in between moans. Your brain was putty, these were the only words you were able to make out.
His body tensed as he came inside you, filling you up. His grip unrelenting as he rode out his high.
For a moment, the only sound in the room was your combined ragged breathing.
Then Yeonjun let out a satisfied chuckle as he slowly pulled out, watching his release leak out of you.
"You're unreal." You said laying on the unfamiliar bed, now finally facing him.
Beads of sweat covered his body. His chest rose up and down in an unsteady rhythm. Yeonjun smirked, giving you a look of satisfaction as he made his way toward the bathroom looking for a towel. He quickly threw his clothes back on, tossing you the towel and your dress from the floor.
You were still trying to catch your breath as you dressed yourself. Your head was still spinning, trying to grasp what had just happened.
"You're a mess, fix your makeup." Yeonjun coldly said as he scribbled something on a piece of paper. You checked your reflection on your turned off phone screen only to notice your mascara had run all the way down to your chin. You hurried to fix it looking for some concealer in your purse.
Before you knew it, Yeonjun had placed the piece of paper next to you on the mattress, firmly patting his hand on it so you knew it was there. You brushed off his actions and he exited the room in an instant without saying a word. He closed the door behind him leaving you alone.
Once you fixed your makeup and got up from the bed you remembered the piece of paper, glancing over the mattress, your eyes scanned the entire surface in an attempt to find it.
And there it was, in shaky handwriting.
His phone number.
↭
You didn't call him.
You tried to brush off what happened that night, it was a moment of weakness, you were drunk, it was what it was, the best sex of your life.
You enjoyed yourself, that was for sure, but you didn't want a repetition of what happened.
When you mentioned it to your friend, she was stunned. Not stunned by the fact that you guys screwed, but by the fact he gave you his number.
Apparently, Yeonjun never gave his number to people. So that made you, in some way, special. Maybe he had too much fun after all.
You were intrigued by that, you found yourself typing in his number, your finger hovered over the green circular button. You typed in texts just to delete them before hitting send.
You knew you'd be fucking yourself over if you got involved with him.
So.
You didn't call.
Running into him wasn't out of the ordinary, seeing him on campus was a usual thing since you attended the same college. Different majors, same building. Obviously you'd catch a glimpse of him once in a while.
But then, out of the blue, you saw him again, except it wasn’t in college.
Your favorite café, the one you'd spend your evenings studying in, sipping on your usual coffee order. It was your hidden gem. So why was he there?
Your gaze was fixed onto your laptop's screen when you heard an all too familiar voice, coming from approximately two tables away from yours. Your eyes snapped toward it only to spot... Yeonjun, of course.
He wore a black sweater and had an iced coffee in hand. The little amount of sunlight that shone through the windows illuminated his sharp features. He was on his phone with a tense expression, his brows furrowed. You wondered if he'd noticed you.
Until you were sure he did.
His brown eyes met yours and he softly nodded, acknowledging your presence.
And just like that, you went back to studying. That didn't mean that you couldn't feel his gaze pinned on you without even looking at him. It's like his eyes pierced right through your body like bullets.
↭
That day was only the beginning. Since then, you run into him almost every single day.
In the park by your house, in the convenience store, in your favorite bookstore. Everywhere, you name it. It didn't feel intentional but it was constant. Your decision to ignore and forget what happened at the party didn't feel so easy all of a sudden. Not when you had a constant reminder of it.
One particular night however, you were out clubbing with your friends. The familiar neon lights shone on drunken bodies as they danced to the loud beats. The music was too loud and you were drunk. Too drunk. Drunk to the point that, a repeat of that night didn't seem too bad.
Yeonjun was, as per usual, coincidence or not, in the same space as you. You couldn't quite put your finger on why just yet.
This time though, you were the one eye fucking him. Your eyes grazed down his toned figure, how his hands delicately wrapped around the glass of alcohol he held, how his grey locks slightly fell in his eyes and the way his fingers tapped on the small table rhythmically.
And of course you weren't about to throw yourself on some guy or worse, him. Sure, you wanted to get laid but you weren't desperate. So you were just staring.
And so was he.
Yeonjun's sharp eyes followed your every step. You watched as his lips pressed on the glass he held in his hand. He was returning the same energy you had been giving him the entire night.
Long story short. You both ended up in the club bathrooms, panting and sweating. His face was buried in the crook of your neck, you could feel his hot breath against your skin as you came down from your high. Slowly, he pulled away, wiping sweat on his forehead with the back of his forearm, his chest still rising and falling rapidly as he tried to catch his breath.
He looked at you with those half lidded eyes as he zipped up his pants, watching as you fixed your clothes.
"You didn't call." Yeonjun said, a cold look on his face.
"Didn't want to." You said, exiting the stall as you made your way towards the huge mirror, pulling out some makeup from your purse to retouch.
“Doesn’t look like it.” His face said it all. His eyebrows were raised and his lips were curled into a smirk.
Liar - He thought to himself.
"Well, make sure you call instead of staring next time."
Sure, that was easier said than done though. Sitting in the afterglow of it all, everything started to sink in. What you did. How you repeated what you told yourself was an unrepeatable mistake.
Why the fuck would you call him?
"Why should I?" You barked at him, your speech slightly slurred.
"Watch that attitude doll face." He sighed "You're the one who was on me all night." he scoffed and turned his back to you, making his way out.
"You've been on me the entire week and when I do it for a night it's a crime?" You teased him, he turned his head to look back at you, unable to prevent his eyes from drifting back to your pretty face.
"Never said it was a crime, just don't go denying it," You had no response for that.
"You know the number." He said as he finally exited the club bathroom.
And just like that, you were alone. Staring at your reflection in the dirty club mirror.
Shame creeped up your head. You were so ashamed of what you did, again. You let someone use you for your body, the same body you pretty much spent your entire life despising.
This was definitely the alcohol messing with your emotions, you knew that. You couldn't let yourself spiral further down, so you did what you could.
Gathered your things and left.
It was a quiet night, the cool breeze rustled your hair. You walked, and walked...and... walked? Your body was on autopilot, so many thoughts were rushing through your head that you didn't have time to think about your actions.
With each step you drifted further away from your apartment and the crammed club. Your eardrums still hadn't recovered from the loud music and your head was spinning from the alcohol.
You wanted to get everything off your chest. You reached for your phone, your finger hovered over your friends' contacts. They were all in the club, they wouldn't pick up. That's when you realized.
You had no one to call.
You sighed heavily as you kept on walking. Gazing at the beautiful night sky, the full moon shone a path for you. You found comfort in what you saw, millions of stars in the sky, it all made you feel so small, like your problems didn't really matter.
You came across a 24-hour convenience store, you thought it was a good idea to make a stop for some post-club-snack, maybe eat your feelings away. You browsed through the isles of the small short staffed place, pondering on what to drink Coffee? An energy drink? More alcohol? This was a tough decision. Grunting, you picked up some cookies and a soda beverage and slowly made your way outside to sit on the tables that accessorized the little shop.
A man with brown hair wearing a hoodie, around your age occupied one of the tables and an old woman sat on another one. Thankfully, leaving one more empty table for you.
"What are you looking at?" The man yelled, waving his arm around with a drink of some sort in his hand. The elderly woman gave him a look of concern and took off, leaving just the two of you alone.
"Has no one ever told you that you need to respect your elders?" You called out to him, pretty bad decision but it couldn't be worse than the previous one.
He shuffled, turning his head towards you, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. His brown eyes were welled up with tears, the sclera of his eyes was bloodshot. "She deserved it!"
"The fuck?" Your face scrunched up in confusion.
"She’s been staring at me for the past hour." The brunette said, sipping on what seemed to be peach flavored soju. Of course he was drunk. Not that you could judge, you weren't in the best shape yourself.
"No wonder why she was staring! You're putting up a show right here." You said giggling.
"Hey, it's not funny!" He tried his best to defend himself but to no avail, he was just giving you more things to laugh at.
You rolled your eyes and directed your attention to your phone, scrolling through your social media.
"I can't believe I got dumped!" The guy kept on talking, you couldn't distinguish if he was talking to you or to himself. So you ignored him.
"Can you believe it? How could I get dumped?" He sipped on his drink, gaze fixed on you. You still weren't paying attention.
"Stop ignoring me!" He plopped down to your table, sitting across from you.
"Okay what now?" You rubbed your face in defeat.
"She dumped me!" He said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Which at that point, it was, he'd repeated himself plenty of times.
"Okay, I'm all ears." You sighed and gave him a couple of your cookies, sipping on your soda as the guy kept on talking non stop.
"Yeah and then she said 'No, why would I go on a date with an asshole like you?'. It's so crazy! Like, I'm hot and like, I'm a good guy! Don't I seem like a good guy?" You tried so hard to contain your laughter, he wouldn't shut up and was in that state all because of...this? Because a girl wasn't into him?
"Sounds to me like she rejected you, not dumped you." At that point you were about to erupt into laughter.
"Ye-" You cut him off.
"No you don't seem like a good guy at all, you yell at old people, are you serious? Of course she would reject you!" You started hysterically laughing at how stupid this whole situation was, this was obviously the first time someone had told this guy no.
"Shut up! You’re no better than me!" He was fuming.
"Okay but jokes aside, do you not know the difference between rejection and someone dumping you? Dumping is when someone breaks up with you." You asked in a serious tone now.
"Of course I know the difference!" He pouted like a little kid.
"Then why did you tell me you got dumped?" You shot him a look of confusion.
"Because in my head we were already dating! I'd built an entire future for us in my head! And now I'm here!" He sighed, obviously being serious about the whole thing. You burst out laughing at his statement. The only thing you could tell him was to get his shit together. After you'd composed yourself from whatever nonsense he was talking about, awkward silence settled between the two of you.
"What's up with you? You seem just as drunk as me." The guy said chewing on one of your cookies, you only shrugged your shoulders in response.
"C'mon I already told you the shit I'm going though, give me a little something."
"I'm fine." You coldly replied.
"Liaaaar. I'm not buying it. If you were fine you'd be sleeping by now, it's 4:46 A.M. and you're alone in a convenience store." He was right, you weren't fine, but hearing him ramble about his nonsense issues was helping you forget your original problem.
"I'm not telling you shit." You nodded in disapproval.
"Come on, you’re killing me!" He pleaded, making fake puppy eyes.
"Nope."
"Okay." A sharp sigh escaped his pinkish velvet lips full of cookie crumbs.
"Wanna make out?" He was awfully close to you, obviously teasing you. Your face was flushed from anger.
"No! What the hell is wrong with you?" You said pushing his face away with your palm.
"Fine I'll tell you" You placed your elbows on the table and began talking.
"Alright so. I fucked this guy the other day and you know, it was good. He gave me his number but apparently, he doesn't give anyone his number, which is fucking weird. Like, why me?" You took a pause as he continued munching on your cookies. "I wasn't planning on contacting him but then I started to see him everywhere, so you know I couldn't ignore what happened that night anymore, not when he was everywhere I went, magically!"
"So you fucked him again." He finished your statement for you with a smirk smeared across his face.
"I didn't say it, you did. Fast forward to tonight we fucked again and he actually asked me to call him, sort of. But that's not even the issue here, I don't feel like shit because of this-"
He cut you off "You got your answer right there cutie pie, he wants you."
You briefly explained to him what Yeonjun was like as a person and what you knew about him.
"'Kay so he just wants to fuck you more often. So why'd you feel bad" He pouted, placing one of his palms on his chin, acting like he was deep in thought. His cheeks still flushed from the alcohol.
"Because, I don't know if I want to do that. I don't want to be used for my body." Your eyes drifted.
"So why don’t you use him as well? If it's mutual it's not ‘using’. You could be fuck buddies." He explained flailing his hands around like he came up with the perfect idea.
"You got a point." He shrugged his shoulders giving you the 'told you so' look.
"The issue is, I feel bad for another reason." You rolled your eyes at him for not listening to you close enough.
"Huh? Then stop beating around the bush and tell me. I can't guess what's goin' on in your stupid head." Cookie crumbs flew out of his mouth as he got more and more frustrated with you.
"I just feel like shit with myself, self image wise. I'm not satisfied with my looks and haven't been in a while. So, someone being attracted to me like that is new to me. The bigger problem here is that in the action of everything he makes me forget how disgusted I am with myself. He looks at me with lust, I forget who I am, I finally feel wanted, desirable."
The brown haired man didn't cut you off this time, instead he kept on listening until you were done. "So even if it's just sex, I'm not sure I want to be caught up with him in any way. He has multiple options. From what I know I could be dumped in no time. I know what kind of person he is, and I can vouch that I will for sure get hurt." It felt weird to take this off your chest to a complete stranger, you blurted out the words without thinking.
"First of all, you’re gorgeous." He pointed to your face. "Take what you can sweetheart, even if it's temporary, this is life. Satisfaction is satisfaction. He gets what he wants, you get what you want and you feel better. And you’re set. He gets one, you get one plus one free. I don't see why you wouldn't wanna do this."
At that point, the sun had begun to rise back up. Blue, purple and orange smudged together in the sky. What a night.
You relaxed your tensed up shoulders and thought about what he said. Maybe he was right. Why would you push away something so soon? Something is better than nothing, and even if you lose it, life goes on. If you don't take the risk you'll never know, you can't be guarded forever.
"Call him." He said placing a hand on your shoulder as he made his way back into the convenience store.
You sat alone thinking about his words. Was he really right or were you just spiraling into a bad decision because he gaslit you into it?
The man walked back out with two cereal bars in hand, tossing one on the table for you.
"Thanks." You muttered.
"It’s the least I can do for eating all your cookies." He smiled and you stood up from your seat.
"You're right. I can't run away from this forever." You almost, confidently said. The brunette shot you a brighter smile this time, cheeks still flushed. And as you were about to take off,
"Didn't catch your name sweetheart."
"It's Y/N, L/N !" You returned the energy with a grin you could've sworn reached all the way to your ears.
"Sim Jaeyun, Jake is fine though." You waved him your goodbyes, asking if he needed any help getting back to his house as you called yourself an Uber. He reassured you that he'd be fine.
And you were off.
Maybe I should call him next time.
↭
The next couple of days were a blur. You had a really bad hangover yet were able to recover pretty soon.
Every time you found yourself being disappointed or feeling bad you thought of calling him but convinced yourself it was too soon to do so.
Days passed and when it had been almost a week since the club incident you decided,
Fuck it.
You called him and asked to meet up. He instantly got the sign and texted you the details to a motel nearby. You met him there at 11P.M. at night, room 786.
Let's not sugarcoat it, it was a crazy night. Most fun you'd had in a while.
This was only the first time you called. It became a usual thing after that.
He'd call or text more often than you did. Every single time was worth it. It always ended the same way, you or him leaving as soon as it was over. This went on for months, he knew your body by heart and you knew his.
Once in a while you'd spend the entire night at the motel or hotel, having conversations over cigarettes and cheap alcohol.
“He never brought me tulips even though he knew it was my favourite flower.” He just nodded along to whatever you said.
“Jackass.” He said in the most flat uninterested tone. But you kept going, you always did. You didn’t even know why.
“Yeah it’s literally one of the cheapest flowers. Pink ones are so common too. It’s not like I ever asked for the blue ones.”
Yeonjun was an excellent listener but not a big talker. He’d listened to you ramble about past experiences multiple times but never did he fully participate in the conversation.
You realized that no matter how well you knew his body, if someone asked you the slightest about him, even if it was just his favorite color, you wouldn't know how to answer them.
You figured soon enough that this man was simply an enigma, one that didn't want to be solved. He kept his distance, his cold demeanor never changed towards you.
But you signed up for this.
Didn't you?
You put yourself in this situation in the first place, wanting nothing more than pleasure and sex. So why were you so bothered by his silence and the distance he put between the two of you?
As a psychology student, the amount of studying you did was nothing compared to the amount you should be getting done. Not when Yeonjun was all you could think of. This time it wasn't just his body, the question you kept repeating in your head was 'Why?'. You couldn't figure out why you were so bothered by his distant character.
Soon enough, you figured it was something called feelings. Feelings that you were supposed to brush off. Feelings that you did in fact brush off. Because let's be honest here, he would never want anything serious to do with you. It was obvious. He had already made that clear. If you believed he would ever want a relationship or something more than fucking you'd be a fool.
You set yourself up for this. You knew what you were getting yourself into. You knew there were other women in his life. Yet, you were still so bothered by the fact that those feelings could not be returned.
Every time you walked away from him in the middle of the night, it hurt like hell. Pacing in the middle of the night back to your apartment with ruined makeup full of guilt. Cursing yourself for getting involved with him.
You were back where you started.
So you hid those feelings, buried them and tried to forget about them.
↭
A couple of months passed and you had almost forgotten about your silly feelings for him. It was hard to shake off. Especially when you had to see him at least 3 times a week. But you grounded yourself, letting the fact that he didn't see you as anything other than a body sink in, you cried it out, so eventually, it stopped hurting. And then they were almost gone. Swallowed by the back of your brain.
This particular day felt like nothing special, you received a text from Yeonjun at night telling you to meet at a certain place, he sent a pin of the address and to your surprise, it was none of your usual spots, not a motel and definitely not a hotel.
You stood outside the tall building that seemed to be an apartment complex. Yeonjun was nowhere to be seen. That was weird.
The cold night breeze made your legs shiver as you shot him a text asking where he was. He shortly responded that you should ring the bell and that he was on floor 6. You browsed for the last name "Choi" in the mess of different others until you found it, your finger lingered over it a little longer than it should have. You hesitated slightly before finally pressing on it.
The response was almost instant, the door clicked open. You shuffled in the elevator, this was the first time you'd ever been to his place.
Never in the past 7 months had he invited you over.
As the door into his apartment cracked open, you took a quiet moment to take in all the information around you. The way the place was accessorised neatly, really minimalistic and simple, it reflected his personality, or at least what his vibe gave off.
He briefly greeted you. Yeonjun felt out of the ordinary, his usual calm and composed behavior that he usually kept up seemed forced, like he was slipping in and out of an act. His brows were furrowed and frustration was written all over his face.
"Bad day?" You murmured, even though you already knew the answer. It was visible.
"Don't." He snapped, shaking his head a sigh leaving his lips as he shut the door behind you.
You took a couple steps inside and as soon as the door clicked behind you, his hands were on you, finding your waist, his body pressed you back against - god knows what, a wall most likely.
His lips crashed against your skin, hands gripping your hips, fingers digging into your soft flesh. You didn't question the sudden contact or the way Yeonjun wouldn't look you in the eyes, he was like that sometimes, nothing new.
He led you to his bedroom, you had no time to observe the environment since you got pushed onto a bed almost immediately. You found yourself beneath him. His fingers were already tracing the waistband of your leggings.
He rushed to remove his shirt, it was easy to read the room so you followed along, removing yours as well, tossing it somewhere on the floor.
The dim light of his nightstand cast shadows on his body and face. His plump lips, his silver hair brushing his eyes, he looked ethereal.
You reached your hands up to feel his toned chest before redirecting your grasp to his shoulders to pull him closer to you, in need of any sort of contact and friction. Your nails softly grazed his back as you kissed down his neck. You moved one of your hands to interlock your fingers in the hair on the back of his head.
He only smirked in response before tugging down your leggings and removing them in one swift motion. He was already breathing heavily at the feeling of your lips on his skin.
Yeonjun pulled away, putting one of his hands between your thighs in an attempt to spread them. You didn't oblige, instead, you pressed your thighs tighter together in arousal.
"Open up." He muttered, voice low and demanding, hot against the shell of your ear. This time you listened, spreading your legs apart for him.
His hand skimmed down, sliding your panties down, pulling them over your legs only to reveal your dripping core. The air was cool against your skin, the sudden switch of temperature sent shivers down your spine.
He was all over you, leaving open mouthed kisses along your neck down to your chest. As his mouth traced your skin, his hands reached back to finally unclasp your bra before continuing to kiss down your collarbone and all the way to your stomach. His fingers wandered lower and lower, parting your folds. You were already soaked and he'd barely touched you. "Fuck," he muttered, more to himself than to you.
"Jesus," he murmurs. "Such a pretty mess." You arched your back, pushing your hips towards him, in need of more. You could tell he was hard by the way he pressed himself against you, making you feel it, even if it was still trapped behind his sweats.
But Yeonjun is mean when he's frustrated.
He wouldn't give you what you wanted. Not just yet.
He let his fingers tease you, let them slide up and down your folds, coating them in your slick before finally sliding them inside you, curling them up just right to hit that perfect spot over and over again. His thumb rubbed lazy circles on your clit.
He let the anticipation build until you were squirming, whimpering, pushing back against him, wordlessly begging him for more. He suddenly pulled his fingers out, making you whine at the loss. He chuckled darkly as he brought his fingers to your lips.
"C'mon, suck." He shoved them into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue, making you taste yourself. His eyes were locked onto yours for the first time this night, his pupils blown wide with lust and control. You swirled your tongue around his fingers, sucking obediently, and licking them clean. His breath stuttered for just a moment."You’re so good for me," The filthy praise that left his lips turned you on even more. Yeonjun didn't do that often, he would occasionally talk dirty when he wasn't silent but praise wasn't his usual option. He removed his digits from your mouth with a wet pop.
He flipped you over on all fours. Your cheeks pressed against the soft fabric of the mattress, your breath came out in a shaky gasp.
He yanked his sweatpants down to free himself, his hard cock slapped against his stomach. Yeonjun's hands were scorching as he palmed your ass, kneading the flesh before landing a sharp, stinging slap. He teased your entrance with the tip of his cock, swiping it on your clit and coating himself with your slick. He slammed into you with one thrust, filling you up to the hilt. Your moan came out broken, cut off by the sheer force of the way he stretched you open, filling you in one sharp snap of his hips. The burn was perfect, blurring the line between pain and pleasure, and you loved it.
"Fuck," Yeonjun grit out, his voice was tight, his hands flexed against your hips. "You always take me so well." His frustration bled into every thrust, slow and rough at first, then, fast and hard. His hips slapped against your ass with force making it jiggle at the collision, filthy sounds of your bodies colliding filled the room.
"Damn," he hissed. His hands slid up your back finding your neck and locking around it, restricting your breath just slightly. "You're so fuckin' easy." His grip tightened.
The degradation made you shudder, your walls clenched around him.
"Shit," he groaned, his hips stuttering for the first time since he started. "Yeah? You like that? Like when I fuck you stupid?"
You moaned desperately, breath ragged from the choking as you gasped for air. "Always letting me fuck you like this," he growled, voice almost angry. "Always letting me use you however I like."
But you do.
You always let him.
Because that's the only thing you can get from him, the only thing he gives you. So you accept it without asking for more. The only thing that makes you feel better and helps you forget about your struggles. You're not proud of it. God, if anything it's humiliating, knowing that you're being used, and still deciding to stick around.
Tears pricked at your eyes as he kept on slamming into you. Was it self-pity? Was it the way he was treating you? Not that you didn't like it, it was just the fact that nobody had treated you that way, ever. Even if it was just sex. You hated to admit that he actually meant something to you.
And then, he pulled out. He removed his hands from your neck but tears were still welling up your eyes, threatening to fall.
You barely had time to register the loss before he grabbed you, bringing you face to face with him. His movements were hurried, frantic like he needed this, needed to see you, needed to watch your face. He hooked your legs over his shoulders, lined himself up, and slammed back inside you.
And, for what felt like the first time that night.
He looked at you.
Not your body.
Just you.
He observed your face, watching as your tears slid down your cheeks. You turned away from him, your eyes searched for something to focus on in an attempt to hide your pathetic face.
Yeonjun didn't let that slide. His hands reached for your face, forcing you to lock eyes with him. "Fuck, look at me." You tried to resist him but you finally gave into his touch.
Your gaze met his sharp brown intense irises, full of lust. "You look so fucking good when you're crying for me like this." A grunt ripped from his throat. Your head fell back, a choked sob escaping your lips as he buried himself in you, deeper than before, hitting that spot that made your whole body shake uncontrollably.
He whimpered needily, his forehead now pressing against yours.
"God, you feel so fuckin' good," His pace turned erratic, his control slipping. The anger, the frustration, it all melted away, replaced with something else, something you couldn't quite place just yet. Something that almost felt like passion.
You clenched around him, reaching for his back, leaving long scratches on it. His hand reached down and his fingers found your clit, rubbing tight circles on it.
"Come for me baby." Your body obeyed without question.
A strangled moan tore from your lips as your orgasm crashed over you, your walls clenched violently around him, your entire body shook. He dropped your legs from his shoulders and you wrapped them around his waist softly tugging on his grey locks as you slowly came down from your high, him still chasing his own.
And then, it happened.
Right as he was teetering on the edge, right as his body shuddered coming close to his release, his lips crashed against yours.
It was not just a kiss.
It was desperate.
Sloppy, messy, needy.
His hips jerked, his cock pulsing as he broke inside you, spilling himself deep. His breath shaky as he moaned into your mouth.
His body trembled, fingers gripping you like a lifeline, like he never wanted to let go.
And for a second, for just a moment, he didn't let go.
He stayed inside you, forehead still pressed to yours, lips still connected, his breathing was ragged, and his body was shuddering with the aftershocks. You pulled him closer, melting into the kiss as he swiped his thumb over your cheek, wiping away your almost dried up tears.
This was the first time he had ever kissed you.
The only time he'd ever fucked you like you were his.
The only time he'd ever touched you like you meant something.
It was almost, intimate.
But then, he pulled away.
Slowly. Carefully. Like he was forcing himself to move.
His gaze never left yours.
He sat back, raking a hand through his damp hair, his eyes now pinned on your body that was still trembling, still stretched out beneath him, still not his.
He didn't say anything. Instead, he just grabbed a towel and cleaned you up. Offering you your clothes as he put on his own.
"You can stay over if you want." Yeonjun offered. You were still shaken up, trying your best to put your clothes back on.
"Oh, I'm okay! I'll just go home, don't wanna be a burden." You half joked.
"No, not a burden at all. Feel free to stick around for as long as you'd like, you're welcome here." He gave you a warm smile.
That was new.
"Thanks, Jjun but I should really head home." Your shoelaces were now tied and you stood up from his bed heading toward the front door. You had too much on your head to stay over, this was all too intimate.
"Want me to drive you back? It's really late."
"Oh, no I'll be okay. I enjoy the walk back anyway."
What got into him?
He briefly greeted you as you stepped outside his apartment.
His eyes were full of worry. "Text me when you get home, so I know you got there safely." You nodded, promising to do so.
On your way back home, you found yourself replaying everything that happened in your mind. The kiss, the look in his eyes, the way he held you. It blurred the line between lust and passion. You didn't feel used, you felt wanted, even if it was just for a split second.
In this case, this was a scary thing. Because you didn't sign up for this. He made himself clear and so did you. No strings attached. Right?
So what was this?
Why was he treating you like more?
That night helped you make up your mind. You pulled away from him.
You never texted him. You just passed out in your bed wishing he hadn't kissed you, wishing he hadn't touched you.
For once again, you were filled with regret. Because even when you pushed your feelings aside and tried to hold yourself together in one piece, he did something to crack you, making everything you'd bottled up for so long resurface.
In the morning, you groggily opened your tired eyes as you made your way to the kitchen scrambling for your coffee cup. It was a peaceful morning after the intensity of the previous night, the daylight effortlessly filled your small apartment, a warm feeling of accomplishment settled in your chest. You felt like you were making a good start with your new decision.
Until you took a look at your notifications.
Yeonjun: you home safe?Yeonjun: sorry about tonight.
Delivered 5:03 A.M.
Yeonjun had texted you last night when you were probably asleep.
What the hell was he apologizing for?
You ignored the texts swiping the notifications off of your phone screen.
He never did this before. He was always distant with you. Too distant. Always keeping you at arms length.
But now, Yeonjun was treating you like a human being. Instead of just sex, he made an effort to check up on you, expressing his worry.
But you couldn't see this as something pleasant.
Because you knew it couldn't be true, he was still, as far as you knew, openly meeting up with other women.
Of course you liked being treated like a human being, but the sudden shift in his demeanor was off-putting. Your body acknowledged it as danger, triggering your fight or flight response in an instant.
A heavy feeling settled in your gut.
This couldn't be true.
He was only treating you the way he was because you were a means to an end. He wanted something from you. He wanted more from you. He was giving you more of himself in hopes he would receive more in return. Giving you affection so you'd give some back to him, just because he wanted you to chase after him. He wanted to feel wanted and needed.
Right?
Because that's what men like him do.
Give you everything only to rip it away from you soon after. Leaving you stranded.
You weren't going to fall into his trap. Absolutely not. You fucked yourself over once when you started seeing him, you weren’t about to do it a second time.
Even if it meant finally getting what you wanted from him you were not trusting this situation.
Especially when you know he's still seeing other women.
Ironic.
You wanted to answer his texts right then and there 'do you check up on the other girls you screw too or what?' but you bit your tongue.
No matter how good he made you feel sometimes, it was nowhere near enough to make you stay. The times you felt bad outnumbered the times you felt good with him.
It was over.
That's what you told yourself. That the previous night was the last you'd ever spend with him, and you stood by your decision.
And as if that wasn't enough, you were barely passing the subjects at college. Failing 2 of them. Which meant you had to retake 2 tests.
Fuck Yeonjun Choi for being so distracting. Literally.
Suddenly every single time you weren't paying attention in college started coming to mind. How you skipped lectures with no second thought just to meet him or how he was all you could think of when you were actually in the lecture.
You hadn't just let him fuck you, you had let him fuck up your head as well.
Yeonjun was ruining you not just mentally but academically too.
You were so pissed at yourself for letting him affect you so much to the point it tampered with your daily life.
And he thought he could play with your feelings now?
You sighed heavily and turned your phone off, looking around for your books and poorly written notes. The severity of the situation finally sunk in. A whine escaped your lips as you began studying. You took breaks to eat and go to the bathroom once in a while. You kept your phone turned off until late evening. A missed call from Yeonjun.
You didn’t call him back.
You isolated yourself completely, even from your own friends. It’d been a week and a half when your friend worriedly called you again to ask why you were declining their plans. Your only excuse was, of course, studying. You buried yourself in it, your room was a mess of sticky notes and notebooks. You had barely seen the light of day, you only went out of your house to buy groceries and that, you only did in extremely early mornings, when there was no chance of running into anyone. You didn’t touch your social media, didn’t even bother.
Once you hit the two week mark, your best friend called you. Not to go out, not to check on you, she had crucial information that you just HAD to know. Apparently some guys approached her asking for you, what happened to you, where you’d been. She asked why you were involved with them. You instantly realized this was most likely, or definitely, Yeonjun’s friend group. You lied telling her you didn’t know why they were looking for you, but she too suspected it had to do with Yeonjun.
Thankfully, she let them know you weren’t online or outside due to your studies for final exams.
Once you got back on social media, you came across various message requests from various accounts, kaikamal_ , you.th, page.soobin, bamgyuuuu . Some tried initiating a conversation by saying hello, another one straight up asked why you weren’t replying to Yeonjun while the latest request practically begged you to reply because he was worried. You recognized all their faces from their profile pictures. It was his entire friend group.
Why was he so persistent? He could get any girl he wanted at a snap of his fingertips.
You ignored these messages. Buried yourself into studying more and more.
-
The past couple of months had been tough for Yeonjun.
Yeonjun Choi took pride in himself. He had the confidence you only saw once in a lifetime, and funny enough, it wasn’t an act at all, he truly was as confident as he showed to the outside world.
Until you came around.
The first thing Yeonjun noticed about you was that you didn’t budge. Most women would come up throwing themselves at him, but you didn’t even seem interested, that’s what got him so hooked into trying to sleep with you. Of course, he succeeded, but that wasn’t the end of the story.
When Yeonjun noticed you never called him, even when you knew his number, it bugged him. He was repeatedly asking himself why. He always had things the easy way, never had to try to be liked or desired. It had reached a point where he’d started to doubt himself.
When things became stable between the two of you, meaning you slept with each other regularly, his problem was momentarily solved.
But only momentarily.
Because when Yeonjun realized you had no romantic interest in him, he was annoyed.
That didn’t make sense, because wasn’t he only looking for short term fun?
That was the truth.
‘Choi Yeonjun doesn’t do relationships.’
‘Choi Yeonjun doesn’t do feelings.’
The honest truth.
Why did it bother him so much then?
Simple. The answer to that is the root cause of Yeonjun’s confidence.
What fed Yeonjun’s confidence was the chase, the attention, the feeling of being needed. The reason why it ate Yeonjun alive was the fact that you didn’t chase after him. You didn’t call. You didn’t beg. You weren’t desperate. You were just, you.
You didn’t treat him like a toy that you get to have once in a while, you didn’t treat him as a boyfriend either. You treated him like a human being. Your completely casual behavior intrigued him further. You lazily talked about your day and complained about slight inconveniences in hotel rooms as the sun had begun to rise. He only got to have this with his friend. But you weren’t his friend, you couldn’t be. Not when he knew every inch of your body like the back of his hand.
He caught himself wondering what the two of you were. He tried his best to brush it off but every late night conversation, every time you shared something about you, it was like he was getting hooked more and more.
Yeonjun never kissed any of the women he slept with, he didn’t want them to catch feelings. Not that it ever worked, but this was his idea of ‘no strings attached’. But as time went by, every time he found himself face to face with you, he had to fight the urge to kiss you. And that night, he did. He broke his own cardinal rule.
He hadn’t just kissed you; he had memorized the way you tasted, the way your breath caught against his neck, the way you looked at him like he was just a man, not some prize to be won.
And then, you just stopped.
No "im home" text. No "are you free this weekend?" Nothing. Just a clean, sudden radio silence that felt like a slap to his pristine face.
For the first week, Yeonjun was just pissed off. He’d sit at VIP tables in the clubs he frequented, surrounded by people practically begging for a sliver of his attention, and he’d buy rounds of drinks just to prove a point to the empty air. ‘See? I’ve still got it. I’m Choi Yeonjun.’ He’d think to himself as he ordered drink after drink, hoping to wash the taste of you out of his mouth.
It didn’t work. It felt cheap. It felt easy. And Yeonjun hated easy now, because there was no satisfaction in having something so easily anymore.
By week two, his anger changed into something pathetic, something he would rather die than admit out loud. He found himself staring at his phone, opening your chat thread just to see if you were online. He’d scroll through your social media, looking for any sign that you were miserable without him. But there were no sad songs on your story, no posts. You were just inactive, probably living your life, entirely unbothered by the absence of the man half the city wanted.
‘Did I lose my charm?’ He’d stare at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, tracking the sharp line of his jaw, the perfect mess of his hair. Thinking maybe his appearance was off. ‘Nah she’s just playing with me.’
But you weren't playing anything. You had genuinely just walked away to save yourself.
Now, three weeks in, with the exam period being almost over. He was lying on his back in his king-sized bed, the sheets felt too cold. His mind kept drifting back to that one late night when you complained about your coffee being cold that morning, your hair was messy, wearing nothing but your oversized tee. He hadn't cared about the coffee then, but right now, he would give anything to buy you the perfect cup just to hear your voice again.
He rolled over, burying his face in the pillow, cursing your name into the dark. He didn't do feelings. He didn't.
So why was he drowning in a spoonful of water ?
He told himself it was nothing, that it was normal. But was it really? Because every time he said his coffee order to the barista, he was memorizing yours, every time he looked at flowers, he looked for tulips. He was looking for you in other people and spaces. It took him so long to realize that.
And yet he still didn’t get it. Because Yeonjun didn’t do feelings. So how could this be?
Only when his friends kicked some sense into him did he realize his true feelings.
That’s when he accepted it. He couldn’t deny anything any longer. You’d broken this man into a million pieces, ripped him off of his confidence that he built brick by brick, even made him doubt his appearance. He was drowning in his own thoughts, and every time he tried contacting you he was faced with a brick wall. He didn’t see you anywhere, no matter how many times he visited your favourite cafe, or your favourite bookstore, you were just gone. It was like you only existed in his mind. A ghost. An entity.
He didn’t know why he was looking for you, there was no purpose. He just had to see you. The desperation in him grew day after day that you were apart. That’s when he made a decision. He was determined. He had to tell you, even if it meant nothing to you, even if the outcome was bad, even if it was just a brick wall again.
-
You passed all of your exams with no worries at all, walked out of the last one feeling refreshed, free. The air felt lighter. The sun hung high up in the sky, a beautiful summer morning.
Your friends invited you to celebrate, nothing fancy, not at all, just a chill hangout, drinking coffee over sharing your results. Of course, you had no reason to say no. There was no studying keeping you back anymore.
You walked in the coffee store with your friends and classmates inhaling the sweet smell of espresso shots and freshly baked pastries. You made your way to an empty table and had your normal conversations until you heard footsteps coming from behind you. You felt a hand on your shoulder and looked behind you only to be met with Yeonjun and his friends. He hadn’t changed one bit but something felt different about him. He sat across from you on the table, you exchanged glances but not a single word.
Some on the table knew, some didn’t. That alone made it more awkward.
“Yeonjun, what’s up with you? How come you’re here? Last year you’d be with a girl at some motel already.” Some guy teased and the entire table erupted with laughter, except you and him, you only faked an awkward laugh.
“I’m a new man.” He said, raising his eyebrows, only half joking. Everyone started laughing as if this was the best joke they’d ever heard.
Well, it was.
Choi Yeonjun? A ‘new man’ what sort of half-assed excuse is that?
You kept a stiff smile on your face, staring intensely at the foam of your latte to avoid his eyes. But you could feel them. Across the wooden table, Yeonjun’s gaze was burning a hole right through you. He wasn’t laughing.
You managed to endure exactly fifteen minutes of this suffocating, awkward atmosphere. While the conversation around the table drifted into loud complaints about the professors, you quietly checked your phone and pretended to read a text.
"Hey guys, I actually have to head out," you murmured, sliding out of your seat. "My new roommate needs me home for some help with carrying boxes and stuff." A lie, there was no new roommate.
"Already, I thought she’d come at the start of next year?" one of your classmates groaned, but you were already grabbing your bag.
"Yeah, she’s not living with me yet, just dropping stuff off. Sorry. See you guys later!"
You practically bolted out of the café, the bell above the door chiming your escape. The cool afternoon air hit your face, and you let out a shaky breath, walking quickly down the sidewalk toward the subway station. You just needed to get home, lock your door, and find a way to disappear from the face of earth.
The bell chimed behind you.
"Wait up."
Your stomach dropped. You didn't even have to turn around to know that voice. You quickened your pace, but within seconds, Yeonjun was walking right alongside you, his long strides easily matched yours.
"I'll drive you." he said, pulling a keychain from his pocket.
"Thanks but I'm taking the subway," you replied, keeping your eyes locked straight ahead.
"Have fun taking an hour to arrive by subway then." Yeonjun countered, smoothly stepping in front of you and forcing you to halt. He pointed his car keys toward a sleek black car parked at the curb. "It’s just a ride, I don't bite."
"Yeonjun, seriously, I can take care of myself."
"I know," he interrupted. “but it’ll only be 30 minutes with my car. That’s half the time. Just accept the offer.”
Recognizing the stubborn glint in his eyes, you realized arguing would only make this interaction last longer. With a defeated sigh, you hurried over to his car, yanked the passenger door open, and climbed in. He got into the driver's side a second later, a heavy silence settled in the car, you had no intentions of initiating a conversation with him.
You reached out and typed your address into his GPS. Then, you leaned your head against the window, staring out at the passing buildings, making it explicitly clear that you were not open for conversation.
He didn't push it. He just drove. But ten minutes into the ride, the car suddenly took a turn off the main road and pulled into a parking lot.
You blinked, turning your head. "What are we doing here? This isn't the place."
"I'll be right back." he said, giving you no explanation before hopping out of the car.
You watched other cars drive by through the glass. A few minutes later, Yeonjun walked back toward the car holding a carefully wrapped bouquet. Your breath caught in your throat.
Pink and blue tulips.
He opened the car door and slid back into the driver's seat, gently placing the bouquet onto your lap. The vibrant petals stood out against your jeans.
"You mentioned them once," Yeonjun said quietly, his hands resting on the steering wheel, though the car was still in the parking lot. "Months ago. We were in that motel. You said that that guy never bought you your favourite flowers."
Your throat felt incredibly tight. You stared down at the bouquet, your heart hammering against your ribs. "Yeonjun..."
"Three weeks." He turned in his seat to face you fully. "You've been ghosting me for three weeks using exams as a shield. What did I do?"
“It wasn’t an excuse, I was actually studying.”
“Then why didn’t you say a single thing. Not even a single text. And why are you still avoiding me then? ” You couldn’t meet his eyes. “Why won’t you even look at me?”
"You didn't do anything, Yeonjun," you lied, your voice trembling as you gripped the flower wrapping. "You’re just you and I realized I wanted to focus on studying."
"I’m just me?" Yeonjun let out a sharp, breathless laugh, but there was no humor in it. It sounded like frustration. "What’s that supposed to mean?"
"You know what I mean, you have options, other girls. I figured it wouldn’t make a difference for you." The words burst out of you before you could stop them.
Yeonjun froze, his eyebrows knit together. "What makes you think that?"
“What is there to prove me different, Yeonjun?”
“Well, things aren’t always as they seem, Y/N.”
“Well, it’s none of my business. Not when you were looking at me like I mattered when in reality you had ten backups.” Yeonjun looked at you dumbfounded, his lips parted in an attempt to say something but you cut him off before he could.
“Yeonjun, listen. I don’t want anything to do with your fuck buddy thing anymore. I’m not gonna sit around and let you play with me anymore, I’m tired of feeling used every time I walk away from a motel in the middle of the night. And as if that wasn’t enough you tried to play with my feelings as well.”
“What?” He couldn’t believe his ears.
"You heard me," you said, a hot tear finally slipping down your cheek.
"You started doing all those things that night at your place. You were acting like you cared about me, and no matter how much I wanted it to be real I knew it wasn't. I wasn't going to sit around and let you use me to play house until you got bored. I didn’t want to get hurt."
The interior of the car went completely silent, except from the faint hum of the engine.
"Y/N..." he breathed. He reached out, his fingers hovering over your cheek for a fraction of a second before gently brushing away your tear. His touch was so soft it ached. "You think I was acting?"
“Weren't you?” you loudly exclaimed, your voice cracking. You got no answer from him.
He started driving again.
His jaw clenched, and he let out a bitter laugh that vibrated through the small space of the car. He gripped the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turned white.
“Acting?” he repeated himself. He turned his head to look at you, briefly. “Are you serious right now, Y/N? You really think I was acting?”
You flinched slightly against the passenger door, but you didn't look away. “Yeonjun-”
“No, don't ‘Yeonjun’ me. You don't get to ghost me for a month, lie to my face about being too busy with exams, and then drop that on me like I'm the one who screwed up,” he fired back, his chest heaving. "Do you have any idea how exhausting you’ve been? I spent three weeks racking my brain, trying to figure out what the hell I did wrong. I thought I overstepped. I thought I made you uncomfortable because I couldn't keep my hands to myself. But it turns out you just decided, all on your own, that I'm some sociopath who plays with people's feelings for fun?"
“You had a reputation after all.” You barked back, the frustration finally boiled over on your side, too. “What was I supposed to think? You’re known for one thing and one thing only.”
“And you think that means that I don’t have feelings? That I’m not a human too? That I’m untouchable and I can’t ever get hurt?” He shouted, tears pricked at his eyes, his vision blurred as he tried to keep his eyes on the road.
The silence that followed was deafening. The only sound was his heavy, ragged breathing. He looked furious, but underneath all the anger, he just looked incredibly hurt.
He slammed his hand against the steering wheel, and ran his free hand down his face, dragging his palm over his mouth. When he spoke again, the shouting stopped.
"I wasn't acting" he muttered, shaking his head as his eyes stayed pinned in the road. "I was trying to show you. Because I’m a coward and I can’t use my words. And for your information, I haven’t met up with another woman for the past 4 months. It’s only been you." A singular tear ran down his cheek.
You’d just reached your place. But the doors were locked and the conversation wasn’t over yet.
You stared at him, your voice completely gone, the bouquet of tulips suddenly felt very heavy in your lap. "Yeonjun..."
“I don't memorize details like that for just anyone, Y/N. I don't change my entire life for just anyone. Because I fell for you, and I didn't know how to tell you."
A tear slipped down his cheek, and he angrily brushed it away with the back of his hand, clearly hating how vulnerable he was being.
“Don’t act like you didn’t feel it too.”
You paused. “I was scared.”
“Scared of what?” He finally looked over at you, his eyes locked onto yours, wide and searching.
“Scared that it was real? Scared that for once, someone actually wanted all of you, not just the parts we agreed to share behind closed doors?”
The truth of his words hit you like a physical blow. You gripped the stems of the tulips tighter, the plastic wrapping crinkling loudly.
“Yes.” you confessed, your voice finally breaking. “Yes, Yeonjun. I was terrified. Look at you. You were the guy who never stayed, the guy who left before sunrise. And suddenly you were looking at me like I was your whole world and holding me like you never wanted to let go. How was I supposed to just trust that? I thought you were playing a part because it was beneficial for you, and the second I actually admitted I was falling for you, you’d just disappear.”
A heavy, suffocating silence fell over the car again. You looked down at your lap, a hot tear landing right on a bright pink petal.
Yeonjun didn’t say anything for a long time. The click-click-click of the car’s engine cooling down was the only sound between you. Then, you heard the faint rustle of leather as he unbuckled his seatbelt.
You expected him to tell you to get out. Instead, he shifted in his seat, leaning across the center console. He reached out, his large, warm hand covering your trembling ones where they were still gripping the flowers.
“Y/N, look at me,” he pleaded, his voice entirely stripped of the anger now. He just sounded exhausted and incredibly gentle.
Slowly, you lifted your head.
“I was like that. I dug my own grave with piling mistakes.” he murmured, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over the back of your hand. “I gave you every reason to doubt me based on who I used to be.” He leaned a little closer, his forehead almost touching yours, you could see the exact shade of dark brown in his eyes.
“Just give me a chance to prove myself. I promise.”
"Okay" you whisper against his lips.
Yeonjun’s hand slid up from your fingers to cup the side of your face, his thumb wiped away any remnant tears. He pulled you into a desperate kiss. You let go of the tulips, your hands found the lapels of his jacket and you pulled him closer into the narrow space between the seats as if you could fuse the distance that had kept you apart for weeks.
When he finally pulled back for just a fraction, his forehead remained rested against yours. Both of you were breathing heavily, the scent of the flowers and his cologne filled the warm car. He let out a shaky, relieved laugh, his lips brushed against yours one more time, but you could feel him smiling against them this once.
s: you're staying with your neighbors until the storm passes, but they have other plans… or you?
w: perv!beomgyu × sub!f!reader × mean dom!taehyun, taegyu are suspiciously wild, we have no safe word, little bit of gothic, rough sex, unprotected, breeding, breath play, dirty talk, pussy eating, pussy slapping, fingering, hair pulling, overstimulation, subspace.
Raindrops’ steady taps fill the silence when you stop knocking.
The apartment hallway is being painted in a creepy, dark tone of pastel green by the gray, eager clouds. Every shadow is darker and also sharper from the edges. Black makes things more alive. And it's soothing, which is wild but somehow good for your tired eyes at this moment.
Right before your knees protest, Beomgyu opens the door, a warm wind from the inside caresses your body, putting a sparkle in your eyes hours later.
“Oh,” Beomgyu says, lips holding a sweet smile. Not with a shock, though; you texted him that you're coming. More like, he didn't think you'd arrive this early.
You smile, spreading your hands. Seeing him again helps the familiarity settle down.
Back to your own life.
“Rain makes pretty girls glow more, yeah?” he combs your damp hair back, and takes the bag in your hand, letting you step inside.
“What's up?”
“Same,” he says, wrapping an arm around your waist to share a welcome back hug when you jump out of your shoes.
“Don't ask about the trip.” you whisper to his collarbones. “Okay,” he chuckles, giving a gentle grip on your waist before pulling back.
“Come on, take your jacket off,” he tugs at the wet fabric briefly. His eyes are carrying words full of glitter; you see them, he's assuming you'll stay. And this place is definitely where you get your best sleep. It would be nice to savor Beomgyu’s warm embrace and the feel of his hands just a little longer, and to spend some time in this safe, cozy atmosphere.
But you smile gently through the sweet ache in your head. “Actually, I need to take Libra and go to my place quickly.”
Beomgyu raises his brows, still smirking. “You should take it off,” he says. “She won't leave that easily.”
“Oh?” your eyebrows raise, too, because you still remember how her world exploded with a terribly dramatic meow-scream when you left her in here with Beomgyu.
He chuckles, stepping behind you to take your jacket off for you. “We french-kissed. Me and her. Would you mind?” he whispers.
A shocked laughter escapes your mouth. “You should've kept that as a secret.”
As you step into the living room, he keeps telling you something about how crazy the cat is. But in this room shrouded in the mist of the rain, the first thing that catches your attention is Taehyun’s eyes. He’s here.
When he turns to you and smiles gently, a soft tremor—one you can’t quite explain—wraps itself around your body.
“Hello.”
The last gray clouds, having managed to shield themselves from the darkness, cast a glow on the large sheets of paper on his desk. Libra stops chewing on them and slowly slides down from Taehyun’s lap, purring as she makes her way toward you.
She doesn't accept your hug, though; it makes you all chuckle. Cats are weirdly cute.
“You're soaking wet…” Beomgyu mumbles, touching your hair. His warm fingertips pressing on your scalp slightly feel really good.
“Yeah,” you smile, “There's a freak storm outside.” Your eyes search for the windows to look at it; it is still there, even angrier.
“You should stay until it's gone,” Taehyun says, looking up at you for a second and then leans back again on his desk, grabbing his ruler. And you watch him putting it down on the large paper, which has a great drawing of a castle on it, using his pen to draw new lines on it. He's always doing something on that desk, every time you see him in Beomgyu's house. He's always silent and gentle. It’s not so hard to have a sudden, stupid crush on him.
You watch him now to see his words, and maybe more, in his eyes too.
Because your house’s door is just two steps ahead of Beomgyu’s. Everyone in this room knows that the storm won't swallow you if you want to go out.
That wasn't him being polite. Clearly.
“Come here.” Beomgyu whispers, grabbing your waist with one hand and taking you out of that thought bubble. “Let's dry your hair.”
Beomgyu's room is familiar and his bed sheets are still colored with that navy blue. You two fucked on that deep ocean two or three times, it's always tempting and surreal in a way. You like it most in his home; nothing needs to have a meaning. He's the neighbor, drops his anchor in this place, he'll die here being your next door.
A safe space.
Beomgyu guides you to the bathroom and wraps a white towel around your head, messing up your hair more until you escape from it. Giggles echoing and reflections dancing on the mirror. Then you catch that towel and wipe your face and hair properly. Beomgyu watches you while he takes the hair dryer, you can see him smiling in the mirror.
“May I?” he asks, stepping behind you and you just nod. Letting him dry your hair, touching and combing the damp strands between his fingers, gently taking his time. A soft humming in your head, you close your eyes and watch all the pictures that fill there; the train, damp streets, sweet raindrops, apartment door, dark stairs, Beomgyu… Beomgyu's smile, Taehyun's hands, the castle…
The sound stops, and you sigh, open your eyes.
“You can take a shower, if you wish.” Beomgyu mumbles.
“Rain already did that part.” you smile, and catch Beomgyu's smile, too, on the mirror while he puts the hair dryer in its place at your back.
He leans his hips on the counter and holds it while you touch your soft, dry hair. His gaze heavy like cold honey. “Can I comb your hair, too?” he asks, tilting his head to the side slightly. You watch the strands of his hair falling free, and showing his forehead. “Not that it's messy. I just… like your hair.” he adds, voice quieter.
And your smile grows sweeter slowly, you can't really decide if his eyes make you nervous or put sweet little tingles under your skin. Both? Maybe?
“Sure.” you nod.
He nods, too, grateful.
Pulling back from the counter lazily, he steps toward you again. Closer this time. “Let me…” he whispers, leaning forward just enough for his chest to touch your back while opening a closet before you. And your eyes fall on the sink, holding your breath unconsciously, feeling his hips press on yours while his hands search for the untouched comb…
“Look at you…” he groans, pulling your hips toward himself while he thrusts into you at that cruel pace. And you can't see anything but the the piercing, bright white.
He tangles a fist in your hair and lifts your head up, forcing you to look in the mirror. “Oh, you want to watch a pretty slut…” he whispers against your skin, licking a line under your ear, pulling at your hair more. “Open your eyes, baby… See how I'm fucking her up…-
“There,” Beomgyu pulls back. And you inhale finally, pushing all the pictures away by blinking quickly.
“What is he drawing?” you ask, voice quite now because you can't see anything else in the mirror now…
“Everything.” Beomgyu shrugs. “In his perspective.”
You think about Taehyun's perspective while he starts to comb your hair. Beomgyu's gentle as always, combing carefully, sometimes using his fingers, sometimes touching your neck and shoulders. It wakes you up in a way, pulling you away from that sleepy state you were in.
“Surreal stuff?” you ask, leaning against his touch a little.
He purses his lips, thinking about it for a moment. “Yeah, sometimes…”
Your eyes meet in the mirror again and butterflies attack the wrong place in you. Still softly.
“Why don't you ask him yourself?” he asks, watching your reflection with his half lidded eyes. And that small smile.
You don't answer, just smile back and hold his eyes. It'd be so easy to comb his hair back with your fingers, and kiss that smile off his face. He'd undress you quickly, carry you in his bed and let you ride him all night.
You bet he missed you, too.
But Taehyun doesn't leave your mind alone. Every spiral of thought ends in his castle. His presence doesn't prevent anything for you, and that's the problem.
Comb goes into the dark cabinet again, the mirror disappears from your vision and the door has its place. Beomgyu smiles, eyes saying ladies first.
And the strange feeling kept flying in the air between you two when he gave you a large, white shirt and took your damp clothes to the dryer. Watched you change; taking off and wearing that shirt with no bra. Leaning on the wall, shameless, but not with his usual cocky behavior.
Something more intense.
The only parts of the castle that gleam are its gates; the elegant pattern on the frame, when viewed up close, transforms into sorrowful tales where only the first three lines have been written, the rest left blank. Angels and flowers follow one another. As one moves towards the corners of the door, the Hemlock grows amidst the angels’ shifting expressions; they smile, fall silent, shiver or weep until its uniqueness, resembling snowflakes, transforms into a half snowball. They are at peace only when a hemlock is complete. Just as the sweet intensity of the process is torn apart and lost by the greed of the outcome. Or being unaware of the micro snowflakes that lose their pattern as we squeeze the snow in our hands.
“Suited you,” Taehyun says without looking at you.
Turning your gaze away from the grandeur of the drawing causes you to be slow, yet the shirt’s fabric feels sharp against your skin for a moment. It’s loose enough, and yet somehow suffocating now. You lower your head to look at it, and the realization hits you.
It belongs to Taehyun.
“Thank you,” you say, as the warmth tickles your cheeks. You don’t turn to Beomgyu, but the image of him leaning against the bedroom wall a moment ago comes to mind anyway. The smile you’ve been calling ‘small’ up until now.
“What do you think?” Taehyun asks, his eyes fixed on the castle, his voice calm and somehow reassuring. As if he’d sensed your tension.
You smile. “Where is this castle?”
Taehyun’s lips curl upwards slightly. “From a nightmare.” he says, turning to you.
Your eyebrows raise, you lean in a little closer to the drawing, and, aware that it was constructed within a nightmare, you scan all the angels once more.
“Were you the king?” Beomgyu asks Taehyun.
Taehyun pulls the chair next to him out for you. “It’s not the sort of information you can acquire in three seconds.”
You aren’t sitting on the chair; you’re resting your knee on it. Taehyun’s eyes linger first there, then on your hair, which looks even softer when dry. When you lock eyes with him, you feel the need to take a deep, silent breath for your lungs. “Why is it a nightmare, then?” you ask, almost in a whisper.
Taehyun first tilts his head slightly, holding your gaze, his eyes catching the beautiful curve of your neck. He’s quite good at warming you from there.
Then he slides his palm across the paper, slowly, as if opening it up. As if the answer is obvious.
“I remember everything,” he murmurs.
You return to the paper for the third time as his words sink into your mind. Black lines follow one another, and your eyes climb up to his fingers moving slowly over them. His hands draw you in again and again.
“She’s good at drawing,” says Beomgyu quietly. “Let there be a flower for her too.”
Your heart begins to skip a beat here. The thought of touching this masterpiece?
Beomgyu is acting suspiciously enough.
And Taehyun’s eyes scan your face one last time, he pushes his chair back slightly and glances for a moment at the chair where your knee is resting. As his legs spread slightly, he offers you a new seat.
The tension causes you to turn your face towards Beomgyu, who is leaning comfortably back on the sofa.
He nods his head.
You swallow, though it does nothing to ease the lump of excitement in your throat. You pull your knee away from the chair and take the single, small step between you. This time your knee rests against him. As you sit on his lap, he wraps his arms around your waist as gently as possible, helping your back to rest against his chest. You close your eyes for a moment...you’re certain you two won’t draw anything.
Taehyun’s hands slide upwards, caressing your body—now hidden beneath his own shirt—very slowly. As his fingers glide over your ribcage, you notice your breathing slowing down.
He notices too.
“Breathe with me,” he whispers, his lips feeling warm against the back of your ear.
Overwhelming? Perhaps just intense.
When you open your eyes again, Beomgyu is no longer on the sofa.
Inhale, and exhale.
You breathe quietly and slowly, falling into a natural rhythm. You feel him on your back and neck, warm and silent, in perfect harmony with you. As if he’s preparing you for something.
“Like that…” Taehyun whispers into your neck. “Relax.” his fingers glide over your chest. You’re not quite in a steady rhythm yet, but it's relaxing you dangerously.
Then you feel hands on your knees. Again, warm and slow. It's Beomgyu.
His face burrows beneath the fabric, parting your legs and leaning patiently against your warmth.
Your eyes close.
A shallow breath gently disrupts the rhythm.
One of Taehyun’s hands rests on your stomach, whilst the other glides over your collarbone. “You’re safe,” he whispers in your ear, voice so quiet it sounds as though it isn’t true at all. It makes you open your eyes. And his fingers wrap around your throat.
It happens at the same moment as Beomgyu’s tongue pushes against your underwear, pressing roughly between your curves.
Your hands grip Taehyun’s forearms and wrists, and your eyes seem to see blurred ripples in the misty scene of the living room. A soft spark of pleasure courses through your brain. It loosens your grip.
Taehyun squeezes a little tighter and Beomgyu bites your clitoris. “Oh—” Your eyes close, your thighs wrap around Beomgyu’s head. And he grabs them with delight, rocking his head from side to side over your pussy as he slides his tongue inside you. A moan catches in your throat, and you watch as the waves of pleasure swell even further. The white expands, expands, expands as much as it can before a peaceful darkness descends upon you…
You squirt a little onto Beomgyu’s chin, and Taehyun slowly loosens his grip on your throat. He lets you drift lazily at the peak, lets you savour it, and then cradles you as he brings you down.
Like a master.
As you take another real, deep breath, you feel the delicious ache settling deep within you. And then there’s the gentle kiss Beomgyu places on your inner thigh.
Your mind hovers for about two seconds between a hysterical laugh and a sob.
“Do you want me to stop?” Taehyun asks quietly, his thumb stroking your collarbone.
And you shake your head no, still panting.
Taehyun licks his lips, sending a shiver down your spine as his hands settle on your thighs.
“Do you want this?” Whisper this time. “Both of us?” He turns his face slightly towards you and watches the flush that spreads across your cheeks at the thought.
“I want it… both of you,” you whisper, too, weakly.
Beomgyu’s middle finger slides easily inside you, gently prodding your walls. Your sudden shiver melts away in Taehyun’s embrace; he rests his chin on your shoulder and lifts your skirt to see more of you.
“Have you ever done something like that?” His fingers slide along your inner thigh, slipping beneath your underwear, his thumb pressing against your clitoris.
“No,” you breathe.
“But it excites you?” Taehyun gently massages the bundle of nerves. Your nipples feel hard against the fabric of the shirt.
“Yes,” you say without thinking.
Beomgyu adds a second finger, lifting his face towards you. You know his eyes; that look is familiar. Sinful. As Taehyun’s circling on your clitoris quickens, your body leans forward and your lips part slowly.
Your spit falls onto one of the angels, whose face is wrinkled with sorrow. It stains the paper a pale grey and makes all the lines appear darker.
Taehyun positions you with his own hands in Beom’s blue sheets. On your hands and knees. He’s gentle with your body, pressing his hands on your back for you to arch nicely, palms sliding on your skin like it’s the most delicate thing he ever touched. It’s giving you goosebumps; half from excitement, half from not knowing what to expect from his ways.
Beomgyu’s presence was making it easy and even fun so far, but you didn’t see him smile until you three entered his room.
Navy blue fills your palms, a half-alive glove that catches the smallest sweat beads from them. Your heart thumping in your chest; lazily for one second, needy for the other. You lift your head and catch Beomgyu's gaze. His eyes climb the way from your back to your face, slowly taking the sight in. And he doesn't even blink when your eyes meet there for two seconds.
“Close your eyes.”
Taehyun commands, and you look down at the sheets, at your hands, listen to him. Your stomach turns softly. Shivers caressing your body from head to toe.
Now that your eyes are closed, you're willing to hear everything. First, Beomgyu sits on the bed, and a zipper sound comes next. Patient, almost slow. Not from Beomgyu.
From Taehyun.
You swallow, eyes tight shut, feel him positioning behind you; his crotch to your hips, his chest to your back. He takes your hands in his, and intertwines your fingers. You're holding your breath for a second in his cage as his face approaches yours. “You're beautiful.” he mumbles, “Thank you for letting us have you,” his right hand slides on your stomach and palm your pussy, fingers settling between your folds. Making your hips twitch against his, your thighs start to tremble already…
His voice has an angels’ tone, but it's thicker when he's complimenting. And your heart skips a beat even though your body is still reactive to the strange air in the room.
It only goes more exciting, besides all the feelings you're naming inwardly.
Still exciting.
“Relax,” he slides two fingers in you, starting to stretch you out for his cock. Moving them slowly and gently on your warm walls; he knows how to do it, has the best fingers you've ever had in you.
You're trying to inhale and exhale like the way he taught you, while your pussy clenching around his fingers. He's pushing them forward, and circling the way back with his fingertips.
You sigh softly to the feeling growing in your stomach, almost a sweet moan.
Taehyun leans your cheeks, and you know Beomgyu watches you getting fingered without blinking.
“I'll be clear.” Taehyun whispers, pulling his fingers out with a dirty ‘pop’ out of your pussy and slides them over your clit. “If you make a sound while I fuck you, I'll pull back.”
Your pupils dilate behind the closed lids, fingers squeezing his hand for a second. But you heard him right.
“And you'll come without my cock.” He turns his face slightly, “Same with Beom.” lips touching your jawline. “Understood?” he whispers against your skin, voice soft as ever.
And you swallow again, “Yes.” answer him verbally just because you like the feeling of his lips on your face.
He nods, satisfied, and parts his lips on you: sucks on your skin softly down your neck. His fingers roll your clit until your head gets dizzy and you lose the feeling of it.
Relax completely.
Warm drops fall down on sheets when he lifts his body up, painting them darker and giving the blue its terrifying depth. He leans the head of his cock on your entrance, and he pushes himself in the warm wetness, patiently sliding. Your hands grasp the sheets, tighter with every inch. Your walls embrace his hardness, pulsing around it eagerly.
He grabs your hips and presses his cock in you better, pushing it forward deeply like he wants to fill all of you up with himself. Possessiveness is there, in his movements. You swallow again. Inhale, and exhale…
He starts to move, holding you in place with his hands. You like the thin rhythm of his immediately. It grows faster with each passing second but stable, cock sliding in and out of you. Secretly getting rougher, not letting you notice it.
But his thrusts are sharp, really sharp. You fall on your elbows slowly, pressing your lips together like it can prevent a sound.
You don’t even hear his breathing. He’s focused, fucking you in a thick silence.
For not missing the smallest sounds, or he’s just that perfectionist. Everywhere.
This is the first moment you name it scary.
He suddenly slaps his hips to yours rough, hitting the sweetest spot inside, he catches a shocked shaky breath from your throat.
Taehyun stops, and your eyes open, heart beating your chest nervously. He grabs your hips tighter, and changes the angle… Oh, no, you shake your head briefly.
Taehyun starts to slam into you, hitting that spot perfectly. “Gh-” You bite your tongue hard, wetting his cock while he rocks your body. The wet, gross sound of body slapping fills your ears, making you imagine Taehyun's expression. Him frowning, biting his lip, staring at your pussy and cursing every time you clench around him tightly… You can't really hear anything when you're close, but imagining it makes it hotter.
Oh my God, oh God… You're screaming inside, holding all of them back. It's hard. Really hard.
Taehyun is only going faster, not even flinching against the clenching of your walls, and tears welling up in your eyes…
A sob comes out from your mouth, “Ahhh,” and your body closes in for the release but Taehyun stops.
You hear a silent oops, from Beomgyu probably.
Tears touching on your cheeks warmly, with the emptiness, the rhythm still going in your mind, without his cock now.
You inhale, and exhale. Then lean your face on the sheets while Taehyun slides his fingers in you, and cry as much as you want through your orgasm.
“Good girl,” Beomgyu breathes, leaning in to place a soft kiss on your temple. “Such a good girl.” His hands glide over your shoulders, gentler than ever, to make you feel at ease again. “But you can do better, you know that,” he says quietly, as he unzips.
You take a deep breath as his hips press against you. Probably because you know exactly how this is going to go. His already-leaking cock leans against your warm, puffy pussy lips. He grabs himself and slaps the tip against them, making your thighs tremble.
Even though they’ve given you enough time in between, you still feel sensitive.
“We’re starting again,” he says. “No tears, okay?”
You nod, licking your lips.
He pushes his cock into you with one firm thrust, and you bite your lip hard. Your back arches, and you’re on your elbows again.
“Oh, fuck…” Beomgyu grips your hips so hard he leaves marks. “I missed this so much.”
The sensation of fullness is quick to stir a new feeling in your stomach, because this is Beomgyu. He’s always rough and fast.
“You too, baby?” He groans, leaning down until his shadow falls on your back. “You missed my cock so badly, didn’t you? Tell me.” He cups your breasts and squeezes them in his palms, tilting his head as if seeking an answer. And at the last moment, you stop yourself from speaking to him.
Beomgyu smiles, increasing his pace even further as he teases your nipples with his fingertips.
The rain-streaked window drifts out of your field of vision, and you tilt your head further.
But Beomgyu is aware that you’re trying to hold back. One hand grips the back of your knee and lifts your leg, positioning you at the angle where he can hit that spot he knows best. And with his first thrust, you let a naughty tear fall onto the sheets.
No tears. No tears. No tears. The sound of skin-slapping grows rougher and faster with every passing second, blending perfectly with Beomgyu’s panting.
No tears… His hand slides from your hip down towards your pussy; you hold your breath.
Within seconds, the sharp slapping sounds join that chaotic melody. Coming from between your legs.
Tears of pleasure warm your cheeks.
“You want to scream so badly…” Beomgyu whispers. His voice is close, but when he starts rolling your clit, your mind falls into a mind-blowing void. You feel nothing but the stars.
“Let me hear your beautiful sounds.” Beomgyu continues, “Bring my dirty little girl,”
The pulse is pounding in your ears, your walls impossibly wrapping around his length.
You can only hold on for two seconds; as your face falls onto the sheets, a helpless sob slips past your lips.
And Beomgyu stops instantly. You can imagine the smirk on his lips.
The sudden cutoff of pleasure weakens your limbs in seconds, and Beomgyu’s fingers, filling you up, let you breathe again. “God…”
Taehyun’s silence and Beomgyu’s noise are the same, you think.
“How many times can you come?* Taehyun tilts his head to the side. It’s not a question.
It feels as though he’d like it if you said you were sorry, but you don’t have the voice for it. You lazily wipe the beads of sweat from your forehead onto the sheets; there’s still a strong pulse you can feel, but the serotonin is quickly turning your brain to jelly, and you can’t feel your knees. Taehyun wraps his arms around your body, and in his embrace, you feel like you’ve turned into one of his angels. Made of paper, or warm steam.
His hands feel good on your back and waist. Warm. Again. “Can you take two dicks inside?” he asks quietly, his voice much more serious.
You swallow. “N-no.”
He nods. “No, I don’t think you can.” He mutters it as if it’s the reason you have to do much better than before. He grips your hips and lifts them up, preparing you for him again.
You swallow, and the goosebumps he gives you come back.
“Wanna be good for me?”
His gentle tone makes your stomach clench, and you nod your head quickly. You really want it.
He taps your pussy with his cock. “Should I trust you?”
You take a deep breath. You really don’t know, and he isn’t expecting an answer anyway.
And this time, you feel better somehow—whether it’s because you’ve run out of strength or because you’re genuinely eager to please him, you don’t know. His cock slides hard inside you, just like the first time, and your walls grip him tighter than they did then. But you’re not holding your breath, and your pulse isn’t pounding in your stomach… Just a delicious rhythm and ragged breaths.
This time, you can hear his breathing too.
His chest presses against your back, and he murmurs, “Simple, right?” into your hair. You feel him close his eyes this time, and it almost makes you smile.
The third orgasm quickly sends its waves through your body, and your hips begin to move in sync with his. Taehyun murmurs contentedly, and when your head drops, he grabs a fistful of your hair to lift it back up.
You take his other hand, which is resting on the bed, and squeeze it; the back of your neck presses against the hollow of his neck. Your eyebrows furrow in pleasure, and as you come weakly all over on his cock, this time you make no sound.
Your head spins like as if you’re about to faint; the kiss Taehyun places on it speeds everything up.
As his sperm spreads through you in waves, your lips curl upward in ecstasy. They hold a faint smile for a few seconds.
“I could play with you all night.” Taehyun groans hoarsely, letting your body lean against the sheets again. Between Beomgyu and him.
A sense of emptiness makes you moan softly as his warm fluid flows down your thighs. Instead of filling your lungs with air while staring at the ceiling, you wrap your arms around Taehyun’s shoulders. You pull him into the warm kiss you’ve been longing for since the very beginning. Tired and passionate. As your tongues lazily glide over each other, he leans in until your head presses against the mattress again.
When you pull away, you ignore the need to breathe once more and lean in toward Beomgyu’s lips. His pleased smile melts away in your kiss.
And within seconds, his lips begin to feel cold. A sharp, smoky cold, like the chill surrounding a frozen forest fruit.
It makes you pull your head back.
You see the blurred ripples again; it’s hard to find Beomgyu’s lips among them. Just as it’s hard to find his voice. He says something.
You lean in to hear him, closer and closer…
“You’re soaking wet…” His lips form the words as slowly as possible. Then they turn to Taehyun’s lips. “You should stay until it’s gone…”
…
“Actually I need to take Libra and go to my place quickly.” you smile gently through the sweet ache in your head.
“Oh, okay.” Beomgyu nods in understanding, and guides you to the living room. “We french-kissed. Me and her. Would you mind?”
A shocked laughter escapes your mouth. “You should've kept that as a secret.”
As you step into the living room, he keeps telling you something about how crazy the cat is. But in this room shrouded in the mist of the rain, the first thing that catches your attention is Taehyun’s eyes.
He’s here.
When he turns to you and smiles gently, a soft tremor—one you can’t quite explain—wraps itself around your body.
He just smiles as a greeting, and you’re remembering something Beomgyu said about how he never talks while working. The last gray clouds, having managed to shield themselves from the darkness, cast a glow on the large sheets of paper on his desk. Libra stops chewing on them and slowly slides down from Taehyun’s lap, purring as she makes her way toward you.
You feel home while she climbs on your body and wraps her soft arms around your neck.
“Cuddle with her and forget about the trip, okay?” Beomgyu says, smiling fondly.
And this time, as the three of you walk toward the door again, “good nights,” “sweet dreams,” and “rest well” all blend together.
"Your attraction to Kai's new friend is undeniable— however, dancing around said attraction gets old quick; looks like you'll have to see what it takes to get this push and pull over with."
taehyun x fem!reader
Genre: strangers to lovers, smut, barely any plot
Word Count: 19k
warnings: dom!th, sub!mc, use of weed, high sex, lots of smoking!! consent is not explicitly stated at times but trust me. they want each other. body worship, slight brat taming, shotgunning, oral (m. rec, f. rec) deep throating, handjob, lots of making out, dry humping, manhandling, tyun carries the reader once, hair pulling, spitting, pussy slapping, biting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, taehyun is an EATER okay he puts that girl through it, squirting, pet names (angel, baby, etc), bulge kink, choking, lots of praise and degrading, creampie
notes: NEVER take the solomon pill this shit gets SERIOUS
When Kai sent you a message asking if you were busy tonight, you earnestly responded that you weren't. When he asked if you wanted to come over to smoke and hang out with a few others, you hesitated— because it was a Thursday night, and he was definitely aware of your nine-am class and the way weed made you feel drowsy the day after. But when he sent you a photo of him pouting and a table full of snacks behind him, you promptly changed your mind.
You're so glad you did— you'd definitely beat yourself up forever if you knew what you were about to miss out on.
Tanned skin, broad shoulders and a criminally narrow waist that flashes beneath the flannel he wears over his tank top— all complimented by a face sculpted by the gods with clear love and care; a plump bottom lip that juts into a pout, tall nose and large eyes that scanned the room curiously— you first made eye contact after Kai let you in, your gaze instantly attracted to the makeshift halo given to him by the lamp he sat in front, his long black hair falling into his eyes. While you instantly looked away, intimidated by how attractive he was, you felt his gaze linger on you for a bit longer.
You let Kai take your hand and drag you to the couch across from this beautiful stranger; some random animated adult comedy show droned on in the background, the only light left after the lamp gets turned off, a few others already taking up space on the couches; you squeezed into the corner while Kai sat to your left, Soobin and Beomgyu taking up the rest of the space— they were nice and fun to talk to, but you only knew them through Kai; you learned it was more entertaining to watch them try to argue whilst high out of their minds.
Across from you, Kazuha and Yunjin wave at you— you were mutual friends through Kai, getting to know them through your econ class after you were paired together for a project; they introduce you to the friends they invited, Chaeryoung and Ryujin. Yeonjun has forfeited a seat on the couch in favor of sitting on the floor, hunched over the coffee table as he rolls up— when you greet him, he gives you a toothy grin, nodding behind him as he introduces you to his invited guest—
"Taehyun." Oh god, you have to try your best not to react too much as he greets you— a polite smile is all you can muster, because you fear anything more than that would give away the effect his mere voice already has on you. It's smooth and deep, with an unexpected gentleness in his tone despite the cool and standoffish front he has going on. You all fall silent, some paying attention to the television while you opt to watch Yeonjun finish rolling up the joint.
He works fast, his fingers nimble and clearly experienced; as much as you like to tease that his skill is concerning, you never turn down a smoke session when it's Yeonjun that's rolling up— you'd like to think that the extra care he puts in his joints add a little extra something that makes your high better. Not that you'd ever tell him that.
You're snapped out of your trance at the sound of Yeonjun calling your name; blinking owlishly, you find him holding out the finished joint and a lighter out to you, eyes tinted with an amused glint.
"Wanna start it off?" he asks— you suddenly feel everyone's eyes fall on you. "You look like you're dying for a hit."
"Am not," you scoff, yet take up the offer anyway; this earns a chuckle from Taehyun, who you can't help but become attuned to instantly. Placing the joint between your lips, you pray that you don't fumble lighting it up and make a fool of yourself in front of everyone.
Then again, it's hard to when you have Yeonjun's work in your hands— you quietly marvel at how quickly the joint lights up, taking a slow drag and watching the tip burn in response. You turn your head to the side to blow out the smoke before passing it over to Kai, settling back on the couch and turning your attention on the show that plays in the background.
As the joint makes its way back to you, a quiet conversation adds to the white noise; you talk about the semester and the finals that approach, listening to Yunjin rant animatedly about her cumulative calculus exam that's driving her up the wall, nodding along in sympathy. Beside you, Kai starts to complain about his job— hyping himself up by saying the same as always: "I'm gonna quit once this semester ends, I swear." The effects of the weed already seem to kick in as you can only muster a slightly slurred remark that he's a hypocrite that's been repeating the same thing for the past two years— when you stumble over your sentence one time too many, the group begins to laugh and you quietly scold yourself to shut the hell up.
It's been a while since you last smoked; you're definitely sure it's showing too, as you proceed to melt into the couch more while the others continue the conversation like nothing— at some point, the others start skipping you when passing the joint around.
Beomgyu and Soobin have started arguing again, something about League and their current rankings. While they have the world's most incomprehensible screaming match, Yunjin drags the girls up and to the kitchen, rambling off about how hungry she is— she turns to you to ask if you'd like to tag along, but when your bleary eyes meet hers and you give her a sluggish shake of your head, she leaves without a fight. Yeonjun trails after them at the reminder of food; beside you, Kai watches his friends fight with a small smile, taking a slow hit from the joint and leaning on your shoulder with a sigh. The two of you curl into each other, and while Kai laughs at the jabs the two throw at each other, you're left unsure of whether they're even speaking a language you know.
A chill runs through your body, and you instinctively turn to the couch across from you— your eyes meet with Taehyun's for the umpteenth time today, but in your high induced daze, you don't feel a panicked urge to look away. Instead, you allow yourself to hold his stare, tilting your head as your eyes begin to wander.
He's shed his flannel; he's left in nothing but a white tank, showing off his arms that are so defined with muscle you're able to pick it up under the low light of the TV. It's unbearable, having such perfect eye-candy on display— even more so when he places his hands behind his head and stretches back, his short tank riding up and exposing his stomach— rather, his fucking abs. You didn't think it was possible to find someone with actual defined abs in real life; Yeonjun always complains to you about how hard they are to maintain.
You're suddenly aware of how dry your mouth is, and you can't control the way you gulp as an attempt to relive the tension. You watch as his eyes flutter shut and his head tilts back, his back arching as he continues to stretch— a low groan escapes his lips, and before you can look away and feign nonchalance, he's melting back down into the couch and meeting your eyes again.
Your face feels like it's on fire, your eyes widening a fraction as you look away— but not before catching the way his lips quirked up in amusement.
"I don't give a fuck that you were at master tier— you're at emerald now and I'm at diamond. So I'm obviously better."
"When have you ever reached master?!" Soobin's yell cuts off your flustered line of thoughts, jumping closer to Kai from the shock his sudden increase in volume gave you. Kai merely laughs at you, grabbing your thighs to bring your legs up to rest on his lap; he absentmindedly rubs your thigh while watching the two continue to debate on who's better.
"And who had to carry you during last night's match?!" Beomgyu yells back; the two are heated, sitting up and trying to loom over each other, but they keep trying to one-up each other that you think they'll stand up any moment. "How many kills did you get again?!"
"Hey, did you want any more?" Kai is holding out the joint to you, leaning in so you can hear him over the screaming match happening next to you. You think about it for a minute— you still feel light and dreamy, but there's the unmistakable feeling of the fog clearing in your mind, able to keep a better grasp on your surroundings than before— and decide it's too early to let the feeling fade, nodding softly and going to reach for the joint.
Instead, Kai beats you to it. He's bringing the joint to your lips, smiling when you raise a brow in surprise but accept the gesture anyway; you follow his instructions to take a long hit, and when he finally pulls the joint away, you've filled your lungs with so much smoke that you end up having a small coughing fit.
"Shit, my bad— that was probably a little too much," he pushes your legs off his lap and hands you the joint, giving you a pat on your back before standing, "I'll go get you some water."
You're left trying to calm down your coughing fit with the smoking joint in your hand, Soobin and Beomgyu now speaking so fast you feel like you're going crazy— there isn't a single word you're able to pick up on, and all you can do is stare at the rug beneath your feet as the weed begins to course through your system once more.
The joint feels warm between your fingers, and you're suddenly itching to get rid of it; glancing to your left, you immediately rule out Soobin and Beomgyu who have now begun to point aggressively at each other. The only other person you can hand this to is sitting across from you, and already staring when you look at him. Taehyun sends you a small smile, reaching his hand out in a silent plea. He's too far from you, so you're resigned to stand on shaky legs and walk over to hand him the joint.
Maybe you should've paid a bit more attention to your surroundings— because then you would've been able to catch Yeonjun's bag on the floor next to the coffee table, your foot catching on it and sending you stumbling forward; you crash into the couch unceremoniously, able to turn your body at the last second to ensure you didn't crush the joint nor burn either you or Taehyun with it— instead, you almost fall on him, saved instead by his hands that shoot forward to steady you. Your head spins from the sudden movement, panting as your heart tries to calm down from the scare.
"Fuck, that's so embarrassing," you whine, covering your face with a hand in shame— Soobin and Beomgyu's argument is briefly cut off in favor of laughing at you, retreating to their own world in surrender after you send them a glare. You hear a low chuckle next to you, and your heart begins to panic once more as you remember who it is you almost fell on top of.
"I'm so sorry," you say through the gaps of your fingers— you don't have the guts to look at him, holding the joint out to his general direction instead. When he takes it, his fingers brush over yours; they're warm and a bit calloused, and you try to ignore the electricity that shoots through your fingertips into the rest of your body.
"No need to apologize," Taehyun says, "you okay?"
"Yeah I'm fine," you say, trying to adjust yourself on the couch— you really don't think you can get back up, especially now that you're high again— you shift away from him, just so you don't have to feel like you're going to shut down every time your thighs press against each other, and frown, feeling a sudden tension in your right hand.
Taehyun takes another hit, and you try to watch from the corner of your eye—his plump lips that wrap around the joint, his brows that knit together while he inhales, looking away from you so he can exhale; you catch him doing a ghost, and you swear you've never seen anyone look so hot while smoking. You're quick to look away so he won't catch you ogling this time.
You're back to watching the TV absentmindedly, the tension in your hand coming back as you shift— frowning, you begin to massage your hand, flinching when your fingers push into the knuckle of your thumb; a stinging sensation shoots through you, and you can't hold back the sharp hiss you let out as you experimentally push in again. Taehyun's head snaps over, watching quietly as you continue to massage your thumb, fingers careful and hesitant as you press into the muscle.
Your eyes that were glued to the hands on your lap widen as Taehyun reaches for your sore hand, bringing it up to his face to examine it; your mouth feels dry as you observe the concern etched into his frown, lithe fingers wrapped around your wrist and turning your hand over in his— his lips clamp down on the joint so he can examine you with his other hand, leaning toward you as he does.
Slowly, his fingers smooth over your skin, fingertips stopping at the knuckle you were tending to earlier. His thumb and pointer fingers move to squeeze your joint experimentally, his eyes flickering up to your face when you grimace and your hand twitches in his hold.
"How bad does it hurt?" he murmurs, his face so close to yours it feels like you've been sucked into a whole different dimension. You can smell the weed that lingers with the joint, the flame beginning to die out, and the clean, calming scent of his cologne— serene and endless, like a cabin in the woods surrounded by the smell of cedar and nature. It's fresh, clean— his face is a mere inches away from yours, and when his eyes flicker up to meet yours, you feel as though you've been kicked in the gut and forced to answer.
"Not— not too bad, I'm sure it's nothing serious," he raises a brow, digging his fingers into your muscle once more— when you let out a choked yelp, the corners of his lips tick up. You let out a shaky breath as you try to be brave and hold his stare. "I think I just landed on it wrong."
"You're sure?" his eyes sparkle with an undeniable mischief, watching with a glint in his eyes as you immediately nod— he presses into your thumb again, just to watch you jolt and try to rip your hand from his; he tightens his hold on you before you can. "Still sure?"
"Okay, maybe it's a little sore," your courage has been snuffed out, your eyes falling to your lap dejectedly. Taehyun chuckles, plucking the joint from his lips before putting it down on the ash tray on the coffee table— his hand has yet to let yours go.
"Thought so," he murmurs; bringing your hand close, he caresses the sore spot slowly. "Sorry, didn't mean to get so rough with you."
Your mind goes blank— his fingers linger on your skin for a second, his eyes fluttering to look up at you once more. He's gently placing your hand back on your lap, giving it a gentle squeeze before he lets go. You're not sure what prompts you into saying the things you do, but the words tumble from your lips anyway.
"No, it's fine. I don't mind."
Beside you, Taehyun stiffens; he does nothing more than nod, letting out a thoughtful hum and leaning back into the couch. The air between you two feels undeniably charged, and you think you might blurt out something stupid again if this tension persists. Instead, you're saved by Kai who finally emerges from the kitchen— you send him a glare for taking so long, and he rubs the back of his neck with a sheepish smile.
"Sorry, Yeonjun was telling us about his situationship again," he sits next to you, uncapping the water bottle before handing it to you, "I got distracted."
"You're lucky I love you," you murmur, gulping down water— Kai leans in, dropping his voice and whispering in your ear.
"Why'd you switch seats?"
You don't like the tone in his voice— teasing, as though you had ulterior motives. You narrow your eyes at him when you find a coy smile playing at his lips.
"I was passing the joint to him."
"And you just had to stay here?"
"Shut up," you raise your voice, smacking his shoulder to get him away from you— while Kai just laughs, you see Taehyun glance over at you from your peripheral. "Whatever you're thinking, stop."
"Yes ma'am," Kai gathers your legs in his lap again, pulling you closer instinctively, "Taehyun, could you pass the joint over here?"
"Sure," he leans forward, picking up the joint before frowning— he gives a testing tug, and when nothing comes out, he shakes his head. "It went out. Where's the lighter?"
"Oh— I have it," you're patting your pockets in search of it, finally fishing it out with a triumphant cheer— you're about to hand it over to Taehyun, but instead of taking it, he leans into you, the joint hanging between his lips.
Your eyes flicker up to meet his— his eyes are dark, and he's raising a brow at you as though your hesitation were odd— he nods his chin toward you, and you're bringing up the lighter, having to flick it a few times before the flame finally emerges. While his gaze is glued to the tip of the joint, you take this moment to get a closer look at him; his black hair that's lit up under the soft flame, stray hairs falling over his round eyes with thick lashes that flutter softly, his smooth skin and slim face, you take it all in like it's the last time you'll ever see him again; when he finally pulls away, you're quick to do the same, afraid to get caught staring for the millionth time tonight.
You face forward, trying to pretend that the moment that passed wasn't enough to startle your heart— when you look up, you're mortified to find Soobin and Beomgyu staring at you with wide, sleazy smiles. When you frown, their grins only widen— you shake your head softly when you see Beomgyu ready to speak, and to your surprise, he actually shuts his mouth with a coy chuckle; you think there might've been genuine fear flashing in your eyes with the way he obliged so easily.
From the corner of your eye, you see Taehyun taking another hit before passing it off to you; you don't hesitate to take it this time, more than ready to ease tonight'sjr&u tension a bit, taking a long hit before passing it off to Kai— you and Taehyun don't interact much for the rest of the night, and while your heart is thankful for it, your brain quietly itches for a little more; a glance, a conversation, something— but Taehyun falls quiet without Yeonjun by his side, and the said man spends the rest of the night in the kitchen ranting to the girls about his recent heartache.
It isn't until everyone is leaving that you run into him again, standing idly in the kitchen and picking at the snacks that were left behind; it's two AM and you've cashed in your best friend privileges to sleep over at Kai's while everyone is saying their goodbyes after finally sobering up. Yeonjun is glued to your side, sneaking in a last few pieces from the candy bowl while you make him promise to catch you up on everything he was spilling to the rest of the girls.
"It's not my fault, you're the one that chose to stay on the couch the whole time."
"Well, you should've tried to come get me again!"
"Why would I do that?" he leans in closer, whispering in your ear with a coy grin, "when you and Taehyunie were getting along so well?"
"Whatever," you shove him off you with a scoff, but he only lets out an obnoxious laugh, leaning in to give you a kiss on the cheek before bidding you goodbye and running out the kitchen. Taehyun wanders in a few minutes later.
It's ridiculous, really— your heart begins to race the moment you make eye-contact with him, and you're turning to face the counter as a result, picking aimlessly at snacks and candy bowls in a weak attempt to seem busy. You think your heart might stop when you feel him looming over you, his shadow encasing yours as he softly clears his throat; you have to brace yourself before you finally turn around.
"Hey," his voice is deep and a bit raspy, and you get a whiff of mint as he speaks— sure enough, he's chewing on gum, and you realize with a pathetic skip of your heart that he has dimples, one so deep and etched into the side of his right cheek. "Do you have Yeonjun's lighter?"
Oh. That bastard.
"Oh! I do, yeah," you give a weak laugh, an attempt to ease your overactive nerves; sure enough, Yeonjun's lighter is still in your pocket, and you're fishing out the Zippo decorated with stickers and handing it out to him.
"Thanks," he shoves it in his front pocket, and you nod. He takes a step back, and lingers for a moment. "It was nice meeting you. I'll see you around?"
"Yeah," your response is a tad too swift and eager, and though it makes your skin crawl, the smile he gives you evens it out. "It was nice meeting you too."
He gives you a polite smile before turning on his heel and leaving for good— you watch him leave, quietly following up to the kitchen doorway just to keep him in your sight a little longer.
And thank god you do— because the image of his broad back and the subtle flex of his muscles is the last thing you get to ingrain in your mind before Kai shuts the door behind him. Your best friend is instantly turning to you, and you hide behind the wall and pretend you hadn't been caught.
His obnoxious cackle is enough to have your skin heating up with embarrassment, hiding your face behind your hands as you recount the way you acted tonight.
"Dude, you were like a cat in heat."
You can't even fight back, because he's undeniably right.
You can't stop thinking about him. It's been a week, and he's still invading your thoughts; maybe it's because you're starting to notice him on Yeonjun's Instagram posts more, or because you actually pay attention to Kai's rants after finding out he works with him at the local record shop— he's everywhere. He's been everywhere, and you just never realized it. You're anxious to see him again, your heart trembling with every night you had to spend overthinking the few hours you spent together— the lingering gazes, his touch on your hand, the kind glint in his eyes— you're tired of recounting the same scenarios over and over. So when Kai invites you to be his plus one to a party Taehyun's friend is hosting, who are you to say no to your best friend?
"Oh my god, how many times are you gonna ask? I don't know, they look the same to me!"
"They're literally not!" you flip the denim skirts over to show him the back, "the pockets! And the color! One's darker."
"Well they look the same."
"Ugh, you're not helping," you throw the skirts off to the side, flopping on your desk chair with a sigh. From your bed, Kai pouts, hugging your bunny plush closer as he watches you massage your temples.
"What about that one dress you have?" you look up in confusion, and he nods over to your open closet, "the pink one you got for our beach trip."
Your face lights up— that pink dress. The one you found at the mall by sheer luck, flattering and short with a skirt that swayed with your movements and gave others a peek of what was underneath if you weren't too careful. You completely forgot you owned it.
"Kai, have I ever told you how much I love you?" you bat your lashes at him, skipping over to the closet— sure enough, the pretty pink material peeked out from the very back of the rack, begging to be taken out. Kai only hums absently, and you look over your shoulder to send him a smile. "Now can you please get out? I'm gonna change."
You're smoothing the dress down your hips when Kai knocks. It's been half an hour and you've yet to let him back in again.
"Come in," you finally say, turning to the side in the mirror, checking if the halter straps of your dress are tied in that perfect bow you practiced. The fabric of the skirt moves with you, fluttering around your thighs like a blooming flower— you see Kai come into the frame behind you, wearing a tight shirt and jeans that sit just a tad bit low on his hips, skin coming into view when he raises his hand to ruffle his curled blond hair. You glance at your appearance one last time before turning to him.
"Do I look okay?"
"You look great," he smiles, taking you in, in all your glittery glory, "you'll have Taehyun drooling all over you tonight."
"Shut up," you scoff, turning your back to him and scampering to get your purse and heels— Kai's insufferable smirk won't leave his face as he leads you out and to the ride he ordered to take you two to the party.
Kai is graceful enough to drop the subject for the rest of the car ride, choosing to tell you about the actual host of tonight's party so you don't go in blind; contrary to what you previously thought, there's no special occasion for tonight's party— Keeho merely did it for the love of the game. Kai details how Keeho throws parties every month or so, because after having his twenty-first get called a "rager", he decided it'd be fun to keep the title up.
"It might be packed tonight," Kai says, "Taehyun was telling me all the shit he had to get for tonight— from the sounds of it, I wouldn't be surprised if there were like, over a hundred people in there."
"Jesus Christ," you're pulling in to a street, finding the neighborhood lined with cookie-cutter houses that look like it'd take you three jobs to maintain; you can already spot a house toward the end of the cul-de-sac bleeding music loud enough to disturb the neighbors and other cars dropping off people who are already stumbling inside— adrenaline licks up your spine, a smile breaking out on your face at the sight of a party actually living up to the hype. When you turn back to Kai with stars in your eyes, he laughs.
"See what I mean?" He thanks your driver before sliding out the car behind you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and leading you inside, "He got the reputation for a reason."
"How the hell has this not gotten shut down yet?" you have to raise your voice as you slip inside, the air instantly switching to something foggy and hot— there isn't a single person in front of your that's sober, and Kai has to lean close to be able to hear you.
"I think his neighbors are usually out on business trips," Kai yells, "but I've also heard rumors that he keeps a "special" relationship with them, if you know what I mean."
You do not. And you're sure you really don't want to.
"That's him!" Kai is pointing at the elevated DJ booth, and when you ask who you're supposed to be looking at, he points at the DJ himself— your jaw drops as you take him in, platinum hair sticking to his forehead with sweat and his dark eyes narrowed as he focuses on his deck; he takes off one of headphones as someone approaches him, probably requesting a song stupid enough to warrant the way his face twists with disgust, waving the person away without a second thought.
"Wait!" something in your mind clicks when you see him look up, the confident grin on his face giving you flashbacks to a late night out, "Isn't he DJ K? From the rave we went to?!"
Kai's nod is reciprocated with a slap to his shoulder— when he gives you an offended look, you scoff.
"He's been throwing parties this whole time and you didn't bother telling me you knew him?"
"Taehyun knows him," the mere mention of his name is enough to bring a smug smile to Kai's face, "so if you're gonna be mad at anyone, get mad at him."
Kai's sporting that weird look on his face again, like he's scheming something and you're at his mercy— it's making you nervous, and it must show on your face because your friend is taking your hand and dragging you through the house with a suspicious familiarity that makes you wanna hit him again. Instead, you allow him to bring you to the mini-bar— bar!— they have, ordering a round of shots you gratefully accept. The tequila Kai ordered for you goes down smooth, though you can't stop yourself from making a face, scanning the crowd to try and play it off; you can see Kai laughing at you from the corner of your eye.
"You wanna go dance?" he asks, watching you continue to analyze the crowd before you, "or… are you looking for someone?"
Reluctantly, you look up at him— he sounds like he knows something you don't, so you give in and tell the truth. "Maybe."
"About time. C'mon," Kai offers his hand, lacing your fingers with his and pulling you close, weaving through bodies and venturing deeper into the house— again, with such effortlessness that has you irked. He's leading you to the basement, leaning close to your ear with a grin. "That clueless act was getting old."
His loud laugh and the booming music is enough to drown out the names you curse out, the smell of weed already reaching your senses as the air gets cloudier the more you descend— your heart begins to pound in anticipation at the thought of getting to see Taehyun again.
Right as you reach the last step, Kai lets go of your hand and snakes his arm around your waist instead— when you send him a confused look, he merely shrugs and pulls you in closer.
"Don't want any creeps to try and hit on you."
The basement is relatively dark, only lit up by a line of bulb string lights that go across the back wall— there are small rectangular windows high up that are left open, and a pool table off to the side where a few people crowd, but the real center of attention lies in the center of the room, people melted into the couches that circle a small coffee table, filled up with ashtrays and beer bottles— it's there that you spot Taehyun rolling up, finishing up a joint— not the first one, if the lingering smoke in the room is any indicator. His tongue darts out to lick along the paper, and like some freaky sixth sense, his eyes dart up to meet yours.
"Scary," Kai's hold on your waist tightens, "it's like he was waiting for you."
Your heart flips at the mere thought, but you act aloof as you allow your friend to lead you into the circle, finding a conveniently open spot next between Yeonjun and Taehyun— the former cheers at the sight of you two, opening his arms for a hug you happily initiate.
"Finally!" You're bending over to hug Yeonjun, who's practically one with the couch— Kai hovers behind you to cover your rising dress. "I almost thought you weren't gonna show up!"
"And who told you I was coming?" because it definitely wasn't you— pulling back, you catch Yeonjun's red eyes widen before glancing over your shoulder. You've barely spent five minutes with him, but Yeonjun's already managed to piss you off.
"You came at a good time," Yeonjun says instead, pulling you down by the wrist to sit next to down; Kai squeezes between you two instead of taking the open spot. "Those dumbass randoms took our joint, so Taehyunie's rolling us a new one."
Sure enough, Taehyun's cleared out a small space on the coffee table to make way for his setup; a thought lingers in your head that you wish you could've seen him rolling up, because as he's finishing up the surprisingly pearled joint, your eyes linger on his nimble hands, and your thoughts wander to an embarrassingly desperate place.
Taehyun is fishing something from his pocket, a simple black lighter with the letters K.TH written toward the bottom of one side; he goes to sit as he lights the joint, the action so indifferent that you're convinced to think nothing of the way he falls back next to you, pressed close despite having plenty of space to sit.
He's dressed in all black today; a simple black tee that hugs his body and ends just above the waistband to his jeans, earning you a peek of his navel as he leans back against the couch. The thin silver chain he wears glints under the low light of the flame, complimented by the small silver hoop earrings that decorate his ears. When he looks over at you, you play off your staring by pretending you were waiting patiently for him to pass the joint to you.
You quickly realize that Taehyun is a very quiet person— and it's frustrating. Kai and Yeonjun make idle conversation that you occasionally jump into, but your interest is more on the man next to you that's decided all he can do is nod along to what the others are saying. By the time the joint has been passed back to you for the umpteenth time, you're high to push yourself to try and talk to him— the last thing you want to do is stumble over your sentences trying to woo this man.
"I wouldn't pass it to her, I think she's already out of it," Yeonjun and Kai laugh to themselves, and your head rolls over to them to send a scathing glare. Your sluggish movements only serve to make them laugh harder. "She's a total lightweight."
"You liar!" you're sitting up, crossing your arms against your chest with a pout. "Just because I don't smoke every other day like you, doesn't mean I'm a lightweight!"
"Nah, if you take another hit you'll probably fall asleep," Kai is all in your face with that insufferable grin of his, refusing to stand down, "it's what you always do when we smoke at my place."
You're about to curse Kai out for airing out your business like this— the last thing you want Taehyun thinking is that you're a lame person to smoke with! You're fired up, brows knitting together and lips curling to a scowl when suddenly, Taehyun cuts into the conversation.
"Hey, don't do my girl like that," all heads are snapping over at him: Yeonjun and Kai because they're surprised to hear him join in, and you because you think you're hearing things.
He's leaned back against the couch, arms crossed and showing off his biceps— you have to rip your eyes away from his arms to take in the small, coy smile he dons, the lit joint hanging loosely between his lips. His eyes flicker over to you, his smile widening a tad when he catches the surprise on your face. "If she wants another hit then let her get another one."
"Someone's feeling brave," Kai put his arm around your shoulders, giving you a teasing shake that makes you whine in protest. "Acting like you weren't falling asleep earlier!"
Kai's teasing is persistent, cooing and pinching your cheeks as you try to shove him off and tell him that you'll be fine— your bickering goes on for a while, your foggy brain trying its best to keep up with Kai's childish arguments; it's a losing battle, but when you feel a warm hand land on your thigh, it's like a bucket of ice water has been dumped over you, sobering you instantly.
Taehyun has gotten close— very close, his shoulder brushing against yours as you feel Kai's hand slip from your shoulders; the world around you seems to fade away as he stares at you with low-lidded, dark eyes. His brows are set in a slight furrow and his jaw seems a bit tight, the hand on your thigh squeezing ever-so slightly— not enough to feel aggressive, but enough to make you squirm, breathless as your lips part in anticipation— for what exactly, you're not sure.
"Do you wanna take hit?" his voice is soft, but he makes up for it by leaning closer toward you. You can feel the callouses on his palms as he rubs your thigh slightly, fingertips brushing against the skirt of your dress that's ridden up. You nod, but it's only returned with a shake of Taehyun's head. "I need to hear you say it, or I won't give it to you."
His fingertips have ventured toward your inner thighs— your legs squeeze his hand on instinct, and you feel his grip tighten, nails digging in and making you swallow back a whimper.
"Y-yeah," you breathe out, "I can handle it."
Kai and Yeonjun scoot a bit away from you, looking at each other and pretending to gag— they're lucky you don't catch it, because if you did you might've beaten them up; they can't help themselves from glancing over at you two one last time before they head over to the pool table.
Taehyun takes one last, long hit, doing a french inhale that makes you call him a show-off. He merely chuckles, turning away to blow out the smoke before he's holding up the joint to your lips. Your eyes flutter up to meet his, glittering under the low lights as you part your glossed lips and take a hit— you find yourself a bit intimated by the intensity of his stare, pulling away far too soon and turning away in hopes of hiding your flustered face.
"C'mon, what was that?" Taehyun's hand is slipping from your thigh to cup your chin and pull you back toward him, huffing out a laugh at the pout you sport. He raises a brow at you, mocking. "Don't tell me you considered that a hit."
"I mean," with the way he's smiling at you, you're able to spot sharp canines that bite down on the tip of his tongue teasingly, a dangerous thrill shooting through your spine at the sight. "I guess."
He laughs, shaking his head as he squeezes your cheeks affectionately— you're positively dizzy with the sudden onslaught of attention, shifting on the couch and squeezing your thighs together; Taehyun's eyes flicker down, his brow twitching in amusement before he's bringing the joint back up to your lips. "You can take another hit, can't you?"
You don't hesitate to nod.
"Here. Take a bigger one," he's guiding your face forward to meet him halfway, placing the joint between your lips and watching the tip light up as you inhale. He keeps his hold on you the whole time. "Come on, keep going."
"Little more… there we go," he's practically purring the words out, plucking the joint from your lips and tucking it between his own. His smile is coy as he watches your brows twitch, exhaling the smoke and willing yourself to not fall into a fatal coughing fit. When you fall back against the couch in success, he gives your thigh a soft pat. "Took it like a champ."
You feel like you're losing your mind with the way his words are hitting you with a heat that festers in your core. Your limbs are tingling and you feel a small smile etching on your face, shifting so that you're leaning on your side to face him fully.
"Kinda hard not to when you were holding me down," you giggle, and he leans forward, successfully closing you two off in your own little bubble.
"Can you blame me?" he murmurs, "you were enjoying yourself."
"What, so you're a mind reader now?"
"Nah," Taehyun's eyes crinkle as he smiles, "but it's not hard to read you when you look at me like that."
"Oh yeah?" you reach forward to take the joint from his lips, taking a small hit to hide your smile. "And how exactly was I looking at you?"
"Like you've had enough for tonight," the joint is taken from you yet again, and you're frowning, getting ready to protest— he shakes his head, leaning to the coffee table to snuff out his joint; you're completely melted into the couch while he remains sitting up, hovering over you with low-lidded, red eyes and a gentle smile. His eyes run over your body, stopping at your hips and letting out a small sigh. Reaching up, he tugs your dress down, that familiar tick to his jaw coming back. "Do you realize how short this dress of yours is?"
The smile on your lips only widens, and there's a playful glint in your eyes as you push your hips up, right against his hand that continues to hold the fabric down. "Something wrong with that?"
"'Course not." his hold on the fabric slips, watching it bounce right back up to rest on the curve of your hips, dangerously high. His gaze is shameless as he continues to take you in, and it's enough to have adrenaline shooting through you, a quiet, dazed giggle escaping you and snapping his attention back to you. He watches you for a moment, and there's this soft look in his eyes that has you squirming in place, your boldness instantly quieting down under the weight of his stare.
"You feeling okay?" he eventually asks; you simply nod. "Tired?"
"No," you bite back, though it's true— whenever you smoke with Kai and Yeonjun, you always find yourself falling asleep. But with this strand, you're feeling… different. Instead of that lethargic, dreamy high that settles heavy into your bones and sings you to sleep, you're faced with something brighter, urgent— your body tingles with restlessness, and there's a heavy heat that settles deep in your stomach that you refuse to acknowledge. "It's definitely not that."
You gulp, feeling yourself take the backseat in your own body; you feel absentminded as you continue this back and forth with Taehyun, finding yourself preoccupied with the feeling that continues to build up inside you— you feel good. It feels like the type of high your friends always describe, where they're giggling to themselves, lost in euphoria while you fight back sleep; your mind races as you say something that makes Taehyun laugh, a full body action that you can't help but find endearing.
You're staring. You know you are, but you couldn't care less in this moment, because he looks good. Criminally good, and it's enough to make that heat in your stomach worse.
"Still doing okay?" he asks. When you respond you're just a bit tired, he nods. "Do you want me to get Kai so he can take care of you?"
"What?" you raise a brow, caught off guard by the sudden mention of him. "Why?"
For the first time since you've met him, he looks embarrassed; under the low light, you swear you see his ears turn a bit red, and he's turning away to look at the pool table across the room. "I mean, it seems like he…"
His words hang heavy in the air. A minute passes before it finally clicks for you.
"Oh my god, no!" you fall into a fit of laughter, and Taehyun simply watches, confused. It's enough to make you laugh harder. "No, we're just friends. I promise."
"Oh," Taehyun seems deep in thought, and when he shifts, he seems a lot less tense. "Sorry, it's just that you guys are… touchy."
"Hmm, I can see why you thought that," you glance over at Kai and Yeonjun, the two playing a round of pool against two strangers, "but he's also the type to kiss his friends when he's drunk."
He frowns.
You laugh, "his guy friends."
"Oh," his eyes widen, his ears getting a little redder. You're soaking it all in, welcoming the sight of him so discomposed, "somehow I haven't seen him do that before."
Shrugging, you send him a wink. "Maybe you're next."
The laugh he lets out is loud, a bit startled. Your words are lighthearted, but it's clear you both consider it a possibility; you think you might've scared him from being around Kai alone and drunk.
A loud cheer erupts from across the room, and you and Taehyun are looking over to catch Kai and Yeonjun celebrating, loud and shameless as Kai places a kiss on Yeonjun's cheek— Taehyun looks over at you, raising his brows, and you simply shrug as though to say 'see what I mean?'
Your small bubble is popped as Kai runs over to you, an excited puppy as he asks if you saw the way they defeated the guys they were up against. You pat his head and tell him he did great, and you swear you can see a tail wagging behind him— Yeonjun is then perking up as he hears a song he likes playing faintly upstairs, grabbing your hand and urging you to go dance with him— because according to him, it'd be a shame to not show off your cute outfit.
When you turn and ask the remaining two if they're tagging along, Taehyun shakes his head, much to your disappointment. "Not in the mood to dance right now, sorry."
Kai flops down next to him, throwing an arm around his shoulders and saying he'll stay behind to keep him company— when Taehyun's eyes widen and he looks at you for help, you merely laugh and wave him goodbye.
"Any progress with Taehyunie?" Yeonjun rests his hand on your hip, pulling you into him and whispering in your ear.
"Tons," you grin, glancing down at his hand that taps your hip to the beat. "What're you so touchy for?"
When you look up at him, Yeonjun's grin widens, sending you a wink (or whatever his rendition of a wink is called— a blink, more like.) before kissing your temple and pulling you even closer.
"He's a jealous guy."
Your heart skips, letting Yeonjun guide you up the stairs and looking over your shoulder for one last glance— and sure enough, his eyes are following you the whole way up, his brows furrowed and his tongue poking at his cheek as Kai talks his ear off. The look stays with you the whole night, even after you all reunite to say your goodbyes and go your separate ways— he's much better at hiding his irritation when you're watching, though you were still able to catch the annoyance in his eyes after Yeonjun hugged you close and complimented your appearance one last time, taking your hand and making you spin around for him. When you turn to say goodbye to Taehyun, Kai and Yeonjun suddenly become enraptured in their own conversation a few feet away from you.
"Did you get kissed tonight?"
Taehyun rolls his eyes and chuckles, "No, I didn't."
"Shame," you pout, "maybe next time then."
"Oh?" he cocks his head, raising a brow as he smiles slyly. "You offerin'?"
Taehyun seems to have a knack for catching you entirely off guard at the most random moments; your mouth is falling open and you're left speechless, feeling a heat rush up the back of your neck and flood your face— you can't hide the way he's flustered you, trying to recompose yourself while he watches with a satisfied smile.
"What, do you want me to?"
"I mean," he shrugs. "Who wouldn't want a kiss from a pretty girl?"
You'd like to blame your next action on your lingering high, your hands tingling as you reach to cup his cheek and bring him to you— his eyes widen, but before he can move, you're planting a gentle, glossy kiss against his jawline. When you pull away, you spot the imprint of your lips and smile.
"Goodnight, Taehyun," you say sweetly, "It was nice seeing you again."
You spin on your heels, feeling the skirt of your dress sway with your hips as you walk; you don't dare look back, because the mere heat of his stare is already enough to make your knees weak. This time, you've made sure to leave a lingering impression on him— hopefully it's enough to make him as crazy about you as you are about him.
"Rough day?"
"Fuck, don't get me started."
You feel— and look— a mess. Finals week is fucking you over, the onslaught of work that's being piled on you convincing you that your professors are all in on a conspiracy to overwork you to death. You've just left your final class of the day, some random elective you chose to get the credits you needed to graduate, and your least favorite— because of course the professor would be insufferable and choose to call on you every other class. Even their voice is enough to make your skin prickle, and you've just escaped an hour of the most boring lecture of your life.
You've met up with Kai at your favorite cafe that's just off-campus; it's cozy and a better alternative to the library that's packed with students cramming for exams. You sip on your drink, some fancy latte you only gathered courage to order after Kai told you it was his treat.
"How are your finals going?" the question is more of a formality, because as you take a good look at your friend— clear skin, glowing eyes, hair perfectly styled, a gentle smile on his face— you scowl and shake your head. "Never mind. Don't tell me anything."
He laughs, smug and shameless despite the way your dull eyes glare at him.
"Seriously though, when was the last time you had a moment to relax?" he lets the question hang in the air, and frowns when you can't find an answer. "You wanna hang out this weekend? We could have a movie night and smoke. Get you some proper sleep for once."
"I dunno Kai," you say, "it just… hasn't been hitting the same."
Kai frowns. "What do you mean?"
"It's just," you bite your lip, hesitant, "I dunno— when we smoked at the DJ K party, it felt a lot better. I think whatever strand you have leaves me feeling weird the next day, but I didn't feel it when I smoked then."
A small smile flickers on Kai's face— you roll your eyes. "I'm serious."
"No, I know," Kai says, "but that strand you like? I don't have it. You'd have to ask Taehyun about it."
Your stomach flips; despite the clear opening, you can't stop yourself from being stubborn. "What, you can't just ask him where he got it?"
"Think he got it when he went to a music festival," Kai leans forward, resting his chin on his palm. "But if you're so curious, I can call him for you."
"Seriously?" He nods, sporting an innocent smile that doesn't waver even as you narrow your eyes at him in suspicion. "I mean, I guess you could."
"Cool," he's pulling out his phone and immediately dialing the said man— before you can scold him that you didn't mean call him now, Kai is sitting up and holding up his hand to tell you to hold on.
"Hello?" Kai's smile instantly switches from innocent to evil— your heart drops. "I have someone who wants to talk to you."
He's shoving the phone in your hands, scooting back and crossing his arms. You scramble, holding the phone in your hands like it's a bomb as you silently curse your friend out— Kai ignores the onslaught of names and insults, motioning to his phone and telling you that 'he's waiting!' The reminder is enough to have you pressing the phone against your ear, your voice shaky as you greet Taehyun and tell him who's speaking.
"Sorry to bother you, I just wanted to ask you something," despite your pounding heart and the blood rushing in your ears, you hold the phone tight and try to your voice steady— you're sure he can hear your efforts, because he's letting out a soft chuckle, his voice low and smooth as he tells you 'go for it.'
"Do you remember what we smoked at DJ K's party? I feel like nothing's been hitting the same… and I kinda need a bit of a stress reliever." You sigh. "Finals week has been kicking my ass."
"Shit, I'm sorry— I don't remember off the top of my head, and I'm not home right now to see," you're chewing your lip, wondering why Kai put you in this situation in the first place— what the hell are you supposed to get out of this? "And unless you're willing to travel a lot for it, I doubt you'd be able to get your hands on it."
"Oh," this conversation is a total dead end, and you're wilting back against the chair in disappointment. Kai on the other hand is on the edge of his seat, eyes widening in panic. "No worries then. Thanks anyway."
There's a pause on his end, and you're expecting him to end the call with a stiff goodbye— instead, he clears his throat, letting out a deep sigh.
"Tell you what," he sounds a bit hesitant, as though unsure of how to word his sentence. "How 'bout you just have some of my stash? We could smoke and you can tell me all about your finals. Maybe get something to eat."
You're heart flies up to your throat, and you're sitting up in surprise— Kai is leaning forward, mouthing a hasty 'what?!' that you ignore.
"Really? Are you sure?"
"Of course I am," he chuckles, "sounds like you need it."
"I— yeah, I guess I do," you say— you pause, looking up at Kai in panic as you mouth 'he wants to hang out.'
Kai blanches. 'When?!'
You cover the phone speaker. 'I don't know!'
Kai has to hold himself from slamming his hands on the table, his eyes impossibly wide as he pretends to yell 'Saturday!' Even though you try to protest that it was supposed to be your hangout with him, he shakes his head with such fervor that you're caving in.
"Are you free this weekend?"
Kai is halfway across the table— you'd think he were trying to press his head to the phone with how eager he looks.
"I am. Just say when and I'll clear my schedule for you," it's pathetic, the way your stomach flips at that, "You can come to my place. If you're comfortable with it, of course."
"That's fine with me," you're breathless, your hands clammy and forcing you to tighten your grip on the phone, "Is Saturday okay?"
"Yeah, that works. I'll text you and we can plan the rest."
"Okay," you've become unexpectedly shy, your voice quieting at the prospect of this hangout. "Thanks."
"Anytime."
You say a brief goodbye before you're hanging up, placing the phone down delicately like it could dial Taehyun again if you brushed against it wrong. You let a minute pass before you let yourself react, lunging forward to pull Kai's head toward you, planting an exaggerated kiss on his forehead.
"Muah!" Kai protests and whines that you're getting your lip gloss all over his skin, but you truly couldn't care less as ruffle his hair affectionately. "Kai, you're the best. Seriously, what would my life be like without you?"
"You'd probably be single forever." Kai's grumble is met with a swift kick to his shin under the table, and he yelps so loud it has half the cafe turning to look at him. He mumbles a sheepish 'sorry', rubbing his shin and curling into himself.
"That's what you get," you scowl, digging in your bag for your phone before you're sliding it across the table to Kai. "Now, could you give me his number please?"
You can tell that Kai is getting ready to give you another snarky comment, but a single glare from you is enough to have him tucking his tail and typing Taehyun's number into your phone without further complaints. When he gives your phone back, you catch sight of the contact name and roll your eyes.
Future Boyfriend >3<
"Thanks." You roll your eyes and pocket your phone, not bothering to change something that's clearly true.
Taehyun's place is way nicer than you expected for a man in his twenties that lives alone.
You wore your tiniest shorts and a baby tee that hugged your form just right, and he showed up at your doorstep at five PM on the dot— he insisted on picking you up and getting something to eat, stating that it was 'for your well-being'— you ended the day out by getting ice cream and driving back to his place, where he let you rant about your professors and your finals the whole time; he nodded along and pitched in every now and then, listening with a fond smile that made you trip over your words once or twice. When you stopped at a light, he turned to get a good look at your face, his eyes dropping down to your lips.
"You got ice cream on your face." His thumb is wiping just below your bottom lip before you can even utter out an 'I do?' your eyes widening comically as he brings his thumb to his mouth and lick it off, letting out a satisfied hum.
You'd felt a raging heat pool in your stomach then, and it hasn't gone away since.
You've made yourself comfortable on the floor, despite Taehyun's protests that you should just sit on the couch instead— you refused, finding the cool wooden floor comforting after spending the day out in the heat, finishing your ice cream while you watch Taehyun finish rolling the joint from his spot on the couch. When he passed the finished joint to you, insisting you have the first hit, you cooed out a sweet "oh, you shouldn't have."
Holding the joint between your lips, you lean toward Taehyun so he can light it for you— your eyes flutter up to meet his gaze, a small smile growing on your face.
"You do this often?" you can't help but ask, "invite girls over to share your special weed with?"
"Hell no," Taehyun's laughter is genuine, and he's pulling away the lighter once he sees the end is lit. You're propping your elbow against the couch, holding your head as you take a small hit before passing it to him. He grins, taking a hit before he speaks. "I'm not sharing my special weed with just anyone. It was hard to get— I gotta enjoy it as much as I can, y'know?"
"Yet you're sharing it with me?" you say, "I'm honored."
He shrugs, a bit sheepish— you pass the joint back and forth, making meaningless conversation and learning more about each other. He tells you he's also in uni, majoring in music production with a minor in business, he tells you stories about working with Kai at the local record shop— mostly stories where Kai was flirting with customers— and you listened with stars in your eyes, the joint hanging idly between your fingers as you watched the way he talked about soccer and his favorite sports team, his hands moving with such fervor it made you laugh— his rant about his favorite team's recent lapse in performance is cut short, and he's looking down at you in confusion.
"What's so funny?"
"No, nothing," you say, though another small chuckle slips out, "you're just so passionate. It's cute."
"I'm glad you think so," Taehyun smiles, leaning down a bit— somewhere along this conversation, you've made your way closer to Taehyun, your body pressing along his leg while you rest your head against the couch. "My friends would usually be zoning out by now."
You go to take another hit, but Taehyun is taking the joint from your hands before you can— you're pouting at him, but he simply scolds you for hogging the joint with a chuckle, leaning back against the couch and keeping the joint by his lips. You let your eyes trail from the smoke that blows in the air, down his chest, to the hem of his shirt that's ridden up again. The haze from your high clouds your judgment, and you don't bother to hide the way you drink in the smooth skin that peeks out.
"You always wear such short shirts?"
He raises a brow, playing innocent. "What d'you mean?"
"All the shirts I've seen you in are always a bit short. You're always flashing your stomach," reaching forward, you're go to play with the hem of his shirt, your fingertips threatening to skim over his skin. "Nice abs by the way."
"Thanks," he laughs, and you're utterly shameless as you watch his stomach ripple with laughter. "I didn't think they were visible."
"Barely," your heart pounds in your chest, fingers shakily running along the hem of his shirt. "Could I get a better look?"
The air is thick and suffocating, yet you still find a reckless courage to look up at Taehyun— you find he's already staring you down, his eyes low-lidded as he gulps. When he sees the unwavering resolve in your shining eyes, he nods.
"Yeah. Go ahead."
You're shifting so you're kneeling, able to get better access to Taehyun this way; beneath the recklessness of your foggy brain, you're nervous— your hands are cold as you gently push up his shirt, your freezing fingertips coming in contact with the heat of his skin, a small smile cracking your lips when he flinches. You push the material up until it rests just below his chest, and you're able to catch sight of a mole in the center.
Taehyun's mouth has gone dry— he gulps, watching you handle him like he were a fragile doll, your eyes scanning his body with such heat it makes him weak. There's pure concentration etched in your features as you're finally able to take him in— you don't register yourself reaching out until your hands come in contact with his skin, able to feel the muscle flex under your fingers and your palm that smooths over his stomach.
"Wow," is all you can say; your hands sweep from the top of his abs down to his navel, feeling the ridges of the muscle and watching him crack a smile at the ticklish feeling— impulse takes control of your mind, your fingers splaying out until you've grasped his sides. "Your waist is so small, too."
"Fuck, you're crazy," Taehyun groans, pushing his hair back, only for it to fall forward once more. When you look up at him through your lashes, he gulps. "You have any idea what you're doing right now?"
You shrug, smoothing your hands up his waist and sending him a coy smile. "Appreciating art."
"Yeah?" he drawls, his hips shifting up ever so slightly, an attempt to ease the tension forming, "and what're your thoughts?"
"I like what I see," you hum, bringing your hands down his waist, stopping at his waistband, fingers pulling at his belt, "but I think I'd like to see more."
"Oh god— you can't say shit like that to me." Scooting a little closer, you rest your head on Taehyun's thigh, pressing your cheek against the denim as you look up at him. "I don't think you realize what you're getting yourself into."
"I think I do," you pout, nuzzling your cheek against his thigh. Taehyun lets out a shaky sigh, his resolve beginning to crumble at the mere sight of you.
"You're sure?" he's cupping your face, guiding you to sit up and lean toward him— he's meeting you halfway, leaning down and tilting your chin up to look at him properly. "You think you can handle me like this?"
His thumb caresses your cheek bones, and your eyes glaze over as you nod— it's not the answer Taehyun wants, because he's tapping your cheek and mumbling for you focus.
"Words, baby." His voice is low, a smile growing on his lips. "Say it. I know you can."
"I want you," you stutter out— his smile turns cruel, fangs on display and ready to sink into you. "I can handle it."
"You really think so?" he coos, laughing fondly when you nod, dazed and desperate. "C'mere."
Guiding your face toward his, you're both equally desperate to seal the space between you— the sheer hunger in your kiss is enough to have you lightheaded. You've thought about this more than you'd like to admit— speculations on what Taehyun feels like is nothing compared to this reality, your kiss desperate and impossible to keep up with; his lips are so soft, and you're all but drooling when his tongue parts your lips and enters your mouth, the lingering taste of smoke and ice cream flooding your taste buds as you whimper into his mouth. He smiles, pulling you closer until your lungs burn.
When you part, a string of saliva connects you two before it breaks off— heat rushes to your face, but Taehyun doesn't seem to be phased by it; instead, he's sitting up, taking a long hit from the joint before he's swooping down, his hand on your cheek squeezing your face so you open your mouth.
His lips hover over yours, his mouth parting as he exhales the smoke right into you— you accept it, placing a hand on his thigh to steady yourself; he holds you in place until you can't resist turning away to exhale the constricting smoke, tears pricking at your eyes as your brain scrambles for oxygen. Taehyun merely watches, caressing your head as you let out a weak cough.
"'m sorry, pretty," he says, reaching down to snuff the joint out against the ashtray on the coffee table, "was I too rough?"
You scramble to shake your head and ease any hesitation.
"No. I mean, kinda," you decide it's better to throw your pride out the window and be honest— Taehyun nods, ready to apologize once more when you beat him to it. "But I like it."
"You do?" he's tense, his hand freezing atop of your head— you're nodding, looking up at him with watery eyes, and his hand is sliding down to hold the back of your neck. "My baby likes it rough?"
It should be ridiculous, the way you have to swallow back a whimper as you nod; your head is spinning as you rest your cheek against his thigh once more, fluttering your lashes up at him and rubbing your cheek back and forth on his thigh absentmindedly. He watches with bated breath, caressing your hair and watching your eyes begin to wander— down his face, down his chest, and straight to the bulge that strains against his jeans.
Any shame you had is dissolving from your system as you feel your mouth water and your cunt clench— your body feels as though it were made of little stars, crashing into each other and spreading heat into your heavy limbs, waves of bliss washing over you and bringing a lethargic smile to your face; your hand reaches up to rest on his other thigh, feeling the muscle flex under you as it begins to trail up.
"Mm-hmm— I like when…" you're dazed, unsure if you're even making sense, "I like when you hold me down."
"Is that right?" he drawls, watching your hand rest at the top of his thigh, massaging it softly. You nod, nuzzling your face against his thigh— Taehyun feels dizzy at the sight.
Slowly, your hand makes its way up the waistband of his jeans, lazy fingers fiddling with the buckle of his belt— not enough to undo it, but just enough to loosen it. You can see the deep rise and fall of his chest, your gaze coy as you smile up at him, giving the buckle another testing tug.
"Can I?"
Taehyun's breath hitches, his voice tense. "Yeah."
That's more than enough for you to spring into action— your actions are eager and a bit clumsy, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans; that alone is enough to have Taehyun sighing in relief, his hips unconsciously bucking toward your touch.
You don't try to tease; you can see the need that clouds his eyes, but you're just the same as you're tugging his underwear down to release his cock— he's already so hard, the length bobbing up to slap against his stomach, his flushed tip already sticky with precum. Your eyes drink it all in, your mouth watering; he's not just big, he's thick too, your hand that wraps around his length barely able to grasp him— he's letting out a low hiss at the contact, his jaw clenching as your thumb traces curiously along the vein that runs along the underside of his cock.
When you let go of his cock, his hips chase for your touch— his brows furrows and he opens his mouth to complain, but before he can get a word out, you're spitting in your hand and grabbing his length again, pumping him slowly as you gauge what he likes.
A choked groan leaves him at your touch— you squeeze him a little tighter, and his eyes flutter shut, his head falling back against the couch as your thumb swipes over his tip, gathering the precum that continues to leak out. Slowly, you gather the courage to move between his legs, already spread open in invitation, your pace picking up speed as you lean down to his aching cock.
"Oh fuck—!" Taehyun's bucking forward at the sudden feeling of your tongue, running flat along his balls all the way to the tip before you're closing your mouth around it— peeking up through your lashes, you catch him running a hand through his hair, his chest flushed a slight pink. You take it as your sign to continue, running your tongue along his tip and sucking harder, rewarded with sighs of your name and praises on how well you're doing.
"Fuck, that pretty mouth of yours is so good," he groans, his hand returning to the back of your head, adding just the slightest bit of pressure, "can you take a little more?"
Humming around his cock, he lets out a choked laugh, cursing under his breath before he's beginning to push down on your head— slowly, allowing you to keep up as your mouth widens, his cock heavy and pulsing on your tongue as you continue to take him in.
You're only halfway through before he's hitting the back of your throat— you're swallowing around him, hesitant to accept the intrusion with a whine, and he's pulling back just enough in response. You're not sure when, but your eyes began to water, and his free hand is coming up to swipe tears from the corners of your eyes, cooing at you as he does.
"Poor thing," he murmurs, pushing his hips up ever-so slightly, the tip of his cock teasing your throat, "is it too much?"
His smile widens when you try to hum out a 'no', refusing to pull away from his cock for even a second.
"No?" He echoes, "then why're you crying, baby?"
You don't answer— it's not like you can, anyway. Instead, you try your best to keep his gaze, taking more of his cock and fighting against your gag reflex. You focus on breathing through your nose instead, tears welling in your eyes once again.
"You want more?" he asks, and he's instantly given a 'yes' from you, biting at his lip at the way you hum around him. "Can you take it? You promise?"
Despite your eagerness and your need to take him whole and prove yourself, he holds you in place— he allows you to pull of his cock, eyes falling to the string of spit that connects your lips to his cock before he's looking up at you.
"Please," your voice is a bit hoarse, "use my mouth."
You have a knack for leaving him speechless— Taehyun's staring at you like you're the most precious thing in the world, his cock twitching in your hands as he takes a moment to think it through; you're about to beg and whine when he's guiding you forward once more, your mouth opening in anticipation.
"How did I get so lucky, finding a perfect girl like you?" he says. Your mouth wraps around his tip, sucking harshly just to hear him moan. "Gonna fuck that perfect face just like you asked, okay? Tap my thigh if it's too much for you baby."
When you don't acknowledge his words, attempting to take him deeper, he grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls you off with such ease your mouth hangs open— he's leaning down, his face stern as he speaks.
"Did you hear what I said?" his voice is quiet and cold, his eyes narrowing when you meekly nod. "What'd I say?"
"Tap your thigh if it's too much."
His jaw clenches, and for a second, you wonder if you've made him angry— but he's leaning back once more, your head brought forward with such strength you don't have room to resist.
"Good."
Despite the ability to manipulate your head with ease, he's gentle to bring you down his length, testing the waters when his tip prods against the back of your throat and pulling back when you squeeze your eyes shut and whimper. Instead, he uses his grip on your head to guide you up and down his cock, letting out a groan of your name as you fall limp in his hold, only taking initiative to run your tongue against the underside of his cock and hollow out your cheeks.
You feel the head of his cock brushing against your throat, beginning to linger more and more— he's thrusting shallowly into your mouth, lips pressed tightly in concentration as he watches you take him.
"Such a good girl, letting me use you like this," he breathes out, "gonna make you take it all, okay?"
He's stopping his thrusts into your mouth to guide you to take more of him, his cock going deeper until he's met with the resistance of your throat tightening around him— slowly, he continues to push.
You feel like you might choke; your eyes are squeezed shut and your lungs burn, your hands on his thighs shifting so you can dig your nails into the denim as a way to ground yourself. More, more still, cock continues to push into your throat until your nose is snug against his pelvis and both his hands have found purchase on the back of your head. You remain still, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes as you fight back the urge to gag.
"Breathe." He mumbles, and it's only then that you're reminded to do so, trying to breathe through your nose until you finally feel your throat relax— he's in so deep, and he's yet to move, your brain going haywire from the lack of oxygen. His hand moves from the back of your head to caress your cheek. "C'mon baby, stay with me."
His fingers trace gingerly along your jaw, trailing down until they feel along the front of your neck, groaning when he feels the pressure from his cock— he thrusts gently into your mouth, barely an inch, just to feel the way you swallow around him. He's pulling you off his cock shortly after.
You feel delirious as oxygen floods your brain, your eyes fluttering shut and drool slipping from your lips, strands of spit connected to his length as you sputter and cough. Your hands slip from his thighs and onto your lap, and you hear him chuckle as he caresses your head.
"You did such a good job. You're perfect," he says, enamored with your dazed eyes that flutter open and your swollen lips that are slick with spit. "You still with me, angel?"
"Yeah," you barely breathe out.
"Fuck, you're so cute," his thumb swipes across your bottom lip, guiding your face up to kiss him— he takes his time despite his cock that throbs against your hand that's taken him again, pumping his length and twisting your wrist until he's panting in your mouth. Your hold on him tightens and you massage your palm against his tip, and when your other hand comes up, your touch curious as you massage against his balls, he sinks his teeth into your lip, forcing you to pull away with a yelp.
"Don't do that— I'll cum," he pants into your mouth, grabbing your wrist and forcing you to stop your motions, "I don't wanna cum like this."
While you're giggling at his comment, you find he's completely serious— he's tucking himself in before pulling you up onto his lap, earning another laugh from you— you straddle his lap as the Taehyun pulls you in for another kiss, addicted to your lips and the way you pant into his mouth. He's coy, running his tongue along your lip before pushing in, feeling against your tongue before pulling out and nipping your lip just to hear you let out a choked mewl; his move moves to kiss the corner of your mouth, before moving along to your jaw, peppering kissing along it until he's gotten access to your neck.
It feels like he's trying to stake his claim; he's biting and sucking along your neck, aiming for spots that have your hands flying to his shoulders, his name falling from your lips in broken whimpers. You can't help the way your cunt aches from the feeling, your panties sticking to you and the need pulsing inside you until you're searching for relief; your hips bring you down against Taehyun, feeling the hardness of his cock against your thin shorts and grinding against him until his groaning into your skin.
"Taehyun," you whine, your hips careless and your rhythm sloppy as you search for pleasure— you feel him hum against your skin, his hands on your hips as he lets you do as you please. "Taehyun, fuck— please, I need you."
"I can see that," he muses, "pretty girl can't control herself, hmm?"
Shaking your head, you grind against his cock a little harder— his grip on your waist tightens, and he's letting out a low groan, burying his face into your neck.
"Shit," he huffs, "stop— I won't last like this."
Your head is fuzzy and you seem to be lost in a world of your own; his voice feels far away in contrast to the overwhelming pleasure you feel, only amplified more by your high— every grind of your soaked cunt against the length of his cock is enough to have sparks going off in your brain, tuning out the way his fingers dig into your skin dangerously.
"Baby," Taehyun's voice is stiff with tension, "stop it."
"No— I can't," you're petulant, digging your fingers in his shoulders as you chase your own pleasure; your vision is blurry as you meet his eyes, pouting when you're met with a cold, harsh expression from Taehyun, his brow raising at you in warning— it only serves to make you even more restless, and you tilt your head at him. "Don't wanna. Feels… too good like this."
Taehyun's hands grip onto your waist, and he's stopping all your movements with minimal efforts— any protests and whines you were about to let out die in your throat the moment you look at him, your heart beginning to pound in your chest.
He's looking at you just like he had the night of the party; his brows are furrowed, tongue poking at his cheek in annoyance— his eyes are dark and angry, and when he meets your panicked, doe gaze, he merely scoffs.
"You really don't listen, do you?" his voice is dark, laced with emotion you can't quite place— is he fed up with you? Annoyed? You whimper, feeling his fingers push under your shirt, his nails digging into the skin beneath. "Is that cute little brain of yours no good for thinking?"
You frown, ready to defend yourself, but he doesn't give you a chance.
"Come on," his hands slide down to your thighs, and before can catch on, he's hoisting you up and standing; you yelp, scrambling to hold on to him, but he doesn't seem to care about your apprehension as he leads you two into the hall and toward his room. "I'll make you feel as good as you want."
He's kicking the door shut behind him, leading you to his bed before dropping you down unceremoniously by the edge— you try to compose yourself, attempting to shift back on the bed, but Taehyun is caging you in before you can, a hand falling on your waist and the other landing on your hip to keep you still, swooping in to kiss you once more.
"Thought you were gonna be good for me," he murmurs against your lips, "but you're just a needy thing, aren't you?"
His hands come up to your shoulders, and your back meets the mattress with a single shove— your head is spinning from the sudden impact, unable recollect yourself as Taehyun falls to his knees, undoing your shorts and pulling them off with a swift movement; he pulls your hips toward him until they're hanging precariously off the bed, throwing your legs over his shoulder and locking his hands around your thighs— you're rendered immobile in a matter of seconds.
"Cute," he says, eyeing your soaked, pink panties with lace trim and a bow— his gaze zeroes in on the wet spot you've made, a cocky smile pulling at his lips as he looks up at you. "Did you pick these out just for me?"
"Maybe," a heat flushes through your whole body— because what was meant to be an arrogant remark is undeniably true, spending a ridiculous amount of time picking out a matching set, just in case; the way you shift under him is enough to answer, and he laughs.
"Thank you baby," he coos, and you cover your face in embarrassment— he bites teasingly at your inner thigh, just to chuckle at the way your hips jump in reaction; his fingers are hooking under the waistband before he's pulling them down, and you're lifting your hips to assist. He's placing kisses along your inner thigh as he goes, stopping at your inner knee before weaving your legs out. "So thoughtful."
His grip on your thighs tighten, and you're being dragged toward him until you can feel his breath on your skin, able to feel his stare on your dripping pussy; it feels vulnerable, having him stare at you like this, your hazy mind making you close your thighs in a weak attempt to hide away— it doesn't work, and you hear Taehyun let out a soft 'tsk'.
"Don't get shy on me now," he says, and you gasp as you feel him give your clit a soft kiss, "I thought you wanted this?"
"W-well, you're being a tease," looking down between your thighs, you find him already staring; your gaze jumps back up to the ceiling, the sight too intense for you to handle. "Stop staring and just get on with it."
He raises a brow in surprise, watching your hand come down to thread in his hair, tugging him closer to your cunt, your hips restless— he lets you lead him in closer, until his tongue licks a stripe along the seam of your folds, licking up the slick that dripped from your hole; you whine, pulling slightly at his hair and rolling your hips in search for more, and you feel his hand move from your thigh to your wrist, pulling it off his head.
"So bossy," he tongue darts out to prod at your entrance, feeling your legs twitch on his shoulders, "aren't you supposed to be all shy and cute?"
"Taehyun, please," you pant, feeling his tongue trace along your clit, lightly, the touch barely there— it drives you mad. "Just— give me more…"
He shakes his head, planting an open kiss on your clit, running his tongue all over your cunt before teasing the tip of it into your entrance. "I'll do what I want."
Your body feels like a live wire, desperate to feel more than the kitten licks and gentle kisses Taehyun continues to tease you with; he's lingering on your clit, running his tongue around it in circles and pulling back just to breath cool air onto your spit-slick skin— you're tense, grabbing a fistful of the bedsheets and squirming beneath him.
"Taehyun," you're on the verge of crying at this point— he's driving you mad, teasing you with the promise of pleasure but pulling away before you can really indulge, "c'mon…!"
You're bucking your hips up, pressing your cunt against his mouth desperately; Taehyun's nails dig into your thighs, and before you can pull away in shock, he's bringing you forward and attaching his mouth onto your dripping pussy. You're tensing, hands flying up to cover your mouth as Taehyun wraps his mouth around your clit and sucks the bud harshly, pressing his hot tongue against it and looking up at you through his lashes— his tongue slips beneath the hood of your clit, and he's breathing out a laugh against your clit as he hears you squeal.
"C'mon baby, I thought you knew better than that," he murmurs, refusing to fully part from your cunt— a mixture of spit and arousal drips down your cunt, but Taehyun is quick to lick it all up before it can fall to the floor; your thighs twitch around his head as he spits the slick back onto your clit, your head spinning from the impact. "You really think talking to me like that is gonna get you what you want?"
In the back of your mind, you know you're walking a fine line— the way Taehyun is looking at you feels cold and menacing, but you're too far gone to care; all you can pay any mind to is the need that makes your cunt throb and your dazed, hazy brain that tells you to keep pushing.
"I dunno," your words are a bit slurred, a shiver running through you as you feel Taehyun's spit dragging down your cunt, "seems to be working so far."
Taehyun's jaw clenches, his lips drawing tightly together. Before you can joke or apologize, he's bringing the palm of his hand against your cunt with a stinging slap!
"Ah!" A broken whine leaves you, the stinging sensation ebbing through your cunt. Taehyun massages his fingers along your slit in faux apology.
"Too much?" he asks— you remain silent, biting your lip to muffle a whimper. "You want me to stop?"
Through hot embarrassment that flushes through your skin, you screw your eyes shut and shake your head. Another slap lands on your cunt, a little harsher than the last— your back arches, the heels of your feet digging into Taehyun's back; he delivers another. Then another, and another, the final slap to your cunt ringing out into the air and bringing tears to your eyes.
"Fuck!" you sob, feeling Taehyun's fingers massage along your lips, landing another just to tease, "fuck… you…!"
Taehyun doesn't respond, but it's clear your outburst has pissed him off— his brows furrow and his lips close around your clit, sucking and licking at it until you're a shaking mess, yelping his name when you feel his teeth graze the sensitive bud teasingly. His tongue runs down your clit and to your entrance, prodding at your hole just to feel the way it flutters around the muscle— he's messy, drooling all over your skin and slurping up your juices, pushing his tongue past your tightening cunt and pressing into you as deep as he can, his nose digging into your clit as he fucks you with his mouth.
Your hands scramble to grab his head, the build up from his previous teasing making your heart pound against your chest and the coil tighten in your stomach— when you fingers scratch at his scalp and pull his hair, he moans, eyes closed in bliss as he shakes his head side to side against your cunt as if he could burrow deeper inside— you can feel the mixture of his spit and your arousal dripping down to your asshole and falling onto the floor, but it doesn't stop Taehyun from digging his fingers into your thighs and gluing his face to you, your orgasm building up so fast you have no way to warn him.
It feels like everything goes white for a second— it all crashes down at once, the tight coil in your stomach snapping and rendering you a puddle of bones, defenseless against Taehyun's continued assault on your cunt; his pace doesn't cease once, even as your thighs snap shut against his head and your body trembles, tears streaming from your eyes from the sheer intensity.
No, Taehyun doesn't falter for a second, prolonging your orgasm until it begins to twist to something nastier, something painful— the waves of pleasure that gently washed over you are now torrents, every brush of Taehyun's nose against your clit only making you wince and cry out from the sensitivity.
"Taehyun—" you gasp, watching as he slurps up your juices, pretending not to hear you, "Taehyun, it's too much! I just— fuck, I just came!"
"You'll take what I give you," he grumbles against your skin, biting your inner thigh, "it's what you wanted, no?"
"Not— not like this!" you're kicking at Taehyun's back as he returns to sucking and kissing at your clit, "I'm too sensitive!"
A particularly harsh suck against your clit has your body jumping, your heel landing against Taehyun's back a bit harder than you intended it to— hearing him grunt at the impact, you tense, about to apologize when Taehyun suddenly hooks his hands under your knees, pushing forward until you're folded in half, your cunt left on display for him— he's as much of a mess as you are, his lips and chin shining with your arousal, a soft blush coloring his face.
"Give me your hands." He doesn't give you a chance to comply, taking your hands in his, guiding them to the back of your knees and using them to pin your legs against your chest. You've been left completely helpless against him, and you barely have any energy left to protest the way he's latching onto your cunt once more.
He's eating you like a man starved— his tongue runs along your cunt as though trying to memorize you, massaging your clit and tracing along your slit before slipping back into your cunt, lapping at your entrance and fucking you with his tongue— he presses his face firmly against you, pining you into the mattress with his weight. You're a squirming, mewling mess, the painful sensitivity from your previous orgasm bleeding into pleasure. When he feels your hips beginning to buck against his face in search for more, he throws your legs over his shoulders once more, his mouth focusing solely on your clit while he teases two fingers against your entrance.
"Fuck, fuck— I'm close," you sob— it feels like your body has a mind of its own, chasing pleasure that only makes you dizzy; it's too much, it's overwhelming, but it's so, so good, and Taehyun is more than happy to bring you over the edge, inserting his fingers into your sopping cunt, groaning at the way you tighten around him— he curls his fingers, exploring your walls until he finds the spot that makes your moans break and your cunt drool, drilling into the same spot until you're crying for mercy and falling apart on his mouth for the second time.
"Taehyun, Taehyun please, slow down!" you're realizing with delayed mortification that Taehyun has yet to pull away— and at the sound of your pleas, he's going even harder, the wet sounds of his fingers thrusting into you making you hot with shame— you try to plead for him to pull away, but it's all incoherent and broken, the overstimulation melting your brain.
"You cryin'? Again?" he coos, pulling away from your swollen clit just to laugh; his fingers curl inside you, and he licks at your cunt to clean up his mess. "Where's that mouthy brat I had here earlier?"
You try to bite back, say something that shows you still have some fight in you— but you can barely manage to blink away your tears, much less talk through your hiccuping moans.
"You look so pathetic," he says, "is this how you like it?"
Sniffling, you shake your head, attempting to mumble something about it being 'too much'— Taehyun doesn't care to listen, fitting in a third finger in your entrance instead; your eyes roll back at the stretch, feeling him slowly pump his fingers until you begin to adjust to him.
"No?" he's placing soft kisses on your clit, looking up at you from between your thighs, "you got yourself in this mess though. The least you could do is say sorry."
His fingers are precise and cruel as they thrust into you, your cunt begging for mercy as his mouth works perfectly together with his hands— while you try to squirm out of his grip, your nails digging into the back of his hand while your other hand slaps at his shoulder, Taehyun continues to pin you down against the mattress, slurping and licking your cunt's juices, running his tongue on your bruised clit and sucking it as though it were his favorite candy.
The pleasure that builds up inside you is something you've never felt before— it isn't the warm, addicting rise that crashes gently; it's a fire that runs through your body, it's violent, a surge of stimulation that makes you cry out for Taehyun to please, please slow down, this feels weird— all your words do is spur him on, as though he's attuned to your body better than you are.
His words echo in your mind— you vaguely recall your outbursts, all the things you did in search of a reaction— and you begin to say through broken sobs the last thing you think will make Taehyun go easy on you.
"I'm sorry! Fuck, fuck! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" You wail, that raw, uncontrollable pleasure beginning to loom over you— there's a pressure building in your stomach, and you feel your muscles beginning to tense. "Please, please please, it's too much!"
"You gonna cum?" Is all he says in response, "I can feel it."
"I can't," you're panting, your hips trying to cant backward in an attempt to run away— but Taehyun won't let you, dead set on making the impossible happen. "I can't, I already— Taehyun!"
It hits you suddenly, your limbs locking up and the pressure in your stomach releasing— your cunt tightens around Taehyun's fingers, trying to push him out to no avail. His pace slows down and you swear you hear him whine— when your ears filter out the sounds of your own pathetic moans to pick up the wet, dripping sounds of liquid slapping against skin and onto the floor, your eyes fly open; sure enough, you've squirted all over Taehyun's face, the liquid continuing to gush out as he helps you ride out your orgasm.
You're melting back against his mattress, equally spent and mortified.
"I'm… I'm sorry," you cover your face with your hands, peeking through the cracks of your fingers as Taehyun begins to crawl over you, entirely drenched from the chin down. Embarrassment licks a hot stripe up your spine, and you're scooting back on the bed to run away from the sight— Taehyun just continues crawling toward you, stopping you with a hand on your hip when you've made it to the center of the bed.
"Really? Now you're sorry?" he says, his knees on the sides of your hips caging you in. Your fingertips dig into your face as you watch a droplet from your release fall from his chin and onto his already wet shirt— you whimper, ashamed, but Taehyun laughs, straightening up and pulling the shirt over his head.
"Oh my god," you mumble, partly because the sight of Taehyun looming over you like this and stripping is a look straight from your wettest dreams, but also because he then uses that same shirt to dry off his face before tossing it behind him. "Oh my god."
"Getting shy on me again?" he smiles coyly, taking off his pants next— his cock is still hard and clearly neglected, his length twitching at the mere sight of you, his tip flushed a deep red. Rubbing your thighs together, you can still feel your cunt throbbing, attempting to recover from the sensitivity. Taehyun runs his hands up your thighs, tracing along your waist before landing on your baby tee. "Take this off for me, angel."
Despite your trembling hands, you still manage to do as he asks— he watches you pull the shirt over your head and unclasp your bra, his brows furrowing and a sigh leaving him when he sees your breasts; he's leaning in to kiss, you, his hands that come up to massage your breasts and play with your nipples so gently you think he'll finally go easy on you.
"I don't accept your apology, by the way."
It feels like you've become a paper doll under Taehyun's grasp; you're flipped over like you're weightless, and Taehyun is quick to grab your wrists in his hand and pin them against the small of your back— his other hand grabbing your waist and pulling you up until you're on your knees and your face is pressed in the mattress, your back arched prettily from where he presses down.
The head of his cock swipes through your slit, and you flat out shiver, nuzzling your face into the mattress— he's only running the tip of his cock along your cunt, but it already feels too much, his thick cockhead parting your lips and lingering at your entrance so you can feel the stretch.
"If you're really sorry, you'll make it up to me, okay?" Taehyun leans down, pressing his chest against your back— the weight of him is grounding, and you can feel his breath fanning on your skin as he whispers in your ear. "You gonna be good and let me use you like a doll?
He's grinding his cock against your entrance as he's speaks to you, and the feeling of his length running along your pussy is driving you mad— burying your face into the comforter, you nod. But truly, you should know better at this point— Taehyun is grabbing your hair and pulling your face out, leaning forward so he can see you.
"Look at me." He says; your eyes flutter open, glassy eyes meeting his stern ones, "Now use your words."
"Yes," his stare is so intense, you can barely hold it. "I want you to use me. I'll be your doll."
Taehyun's cock that was dragging along your cunt is finally aligned with your entrance— he lets go of your hair, letting you slump back into the bed and bury your face with a muffled whine. He straightens up, watching the way your cunt resists his cock— you hear him let out a deep groan behind you once he finally pushes in, his tip already enough to stretch you out. You could barely fit him in your mouth— it's no surprise you're struggling to take him now, the girth of his length filling you up so good, feeling him sink into you slowly until his hips are flush against your ass.
"So fucking tight— stretched you out for nothing," Taehyun gulps, his hold on your wrists tightening and drawing out a weak mewl from you, "you're squeezing around me like crazy."
You can't help the way your walls flutter around him— you just feel so incredibly good, your hips pushing back against him to feel his skin flush against yours, his balls pressing against your clit— your jaw is slack and you think you might be drooling against Taehyun's bedsheets once he starts moving, the slow slide of cock making you moan.
"Feels good?" he asks, letting out an airy laugh when you nod. "You feel good too baby."
He's picking up the pace gradually; what starts as slow, deep thrusts into your cunt, pulling all the way out just so he can feel you clench around his tip, is turning into something needier, something desperate— his hips begin to slam against your ass, his cock hammering into spots that have your eyes rolling to the back of your head; the sheer force of his thrusts is enough to have your body jolting forward, but he holds you in place, his grip on your wrists tight while he uses his other hand on your waist to bring you back into him.
"Perfect— pretty cunt, taking me so good," he groans, your cunt clenching down on him in response. He's so rough and deep, it feels like his cock is all the way in your stomach— you're breathless, gasping his name as he continues to use your body to fuck him back, your ass slamming against his hips and making your toes curl.
"S-so— deep—" you're turning your head to the side, your cheek pressed against the bed as you attempt to look over your shoulder; through the corner of your eye, you're able to see Taehyun, a sheen of sweat on his blushing skin, his teeth gritted together as he watches his cock disappear inside you— he catches you staring, raising a brow and leaning down to press his chest against your back.
"What'd you say baby?" he huffs, pressing kisses along your shoulders, sinking his teeth into your skin to hear the way you squeal— he's leaving bite marks all along your skin, licking up your neck and moaning directly in your ear.
"Taehyun— you're so big, m'so full..." your voice breaks, and Taehyun chuckles, planting a messy kiss on your cheek.
"Am I too big for you?" he asks, sitting up once more— his hand on your hip begins to wander, his fingers splaying out on your stomach. His hand is pressing down, and you jolt, the feeling of his cock slipping in and out much more intense. "Fuck, I can feel myself in that cute stomach."
His palm presses harder against your stomach, his hips snapping meanly into you— you're a sobbing, helpless mess, and when Taehyun is letting go of your wrists to play with your clit, pinching and slapping it teasingly, your hands fly up to push against his hips, a subconscious attempt to push him out of you— all he does in response is lean his weight against you more, his cock grinding so deep into you, you start to see white.
"Where do you think you're going?" he asks, watching your hands slap on the mattress helplessly, grabbing onto the sheets and trying to crawl forward— he merely watches for a moment, but you barely move before he's grabbing your hips and dragging your body back, his cock bottoming out inside you in a single thrust— your ears burn at the filthy squelch that comes from your abused cunt.
Taehyun has caged you in— his hands come down next to your head, his body pressing yours down until your face is pressed into the bed and your ass is in the air; he doesn't let you adjust when he starts fucking you, his hips snapping violently into you and drawing out a long, high pitched cry from you. He's panting into your ear, placing a sloppy kiss on your temple.
"Stay still and take it," your hands that were holding onto the sheets find Taehyun's hands, one reaching to lace your fingers with his while the other trails up, grabbing at his bicep to stabilize yourself— it's a short-lived attempt, because he's shifting to wrap his arm around your throat, locking your body in place for his cock. "There we go, such a good girl for me."
His muscles flex against your throat, and your mouth falls open, beginning to feel lightheaded, your hand holding onto his forearm— turning your head, your teeth sink into his bicep, and you hear him moan in your ear in response.
"Fuck— look at you, biting me like a cute little puppy," he grins, feeling your teeth sinking into his muscle again from the sheer overstimulation your mind is going through. "Feels good?"
Pulling away, you can't even bring yourself to be embarrassed at the spit that you've left on his skin— not when you're getting fucked this good. "Mh-hmm… t-too…"
"Too much?" he coos, his tone gentle and sickeningly sweet— his hold around your throat tightens, and he's using it as leverage to hoist the two of you up so that you're kneeling; the change in angle has your eyes rolling back and your head falling against his shoulder, feeling as though his cock is somehow even deeper.
"I know, I'm sorry baby," he says, beginning to piston into you from this new angle, "'m almost there, I promise."
Fuck, your mind screams at you, how the fuck is he still going?
Taehyun's hand is coy as it travels to your navel, pushing against your stomach to feel his cock plunging in and out of you before sneaking down to play with your clit once more— your thighs are trembling and if Taehyun weren't holding you up, you would've fallen in a boneless puddle against his bed by now. Instead, you're scrambling to hold onto him, grabbing his arm around your neck and holding onto his hips, your back arching away from him— only to create the perfect angle for him to fuck into you, that same, molten pleasure beginning to creep up on you.
"Fuck fuck fuck, Taehyun, oh god, I'm so— 'm so—"
"Yeah, fuck— hold on—" he's flipping you onto your back before pushing back in, holding your calves by his shoulders as he pushes in, "need to see you… cum on my cock, fuck. You're so pretty, baby."
It really feels like he might break you with this angle— your legs twitch and tremble as his holds them up, rolling his hips deep into your cunt, his eyes flickering back and forth from where his cock disappears inside you to your face, drunk on the sounds you make every time the tip of his cock brushes against your sweet spot.
God, the view is already enough to make you cum— your eyes are hungry as you take in his body, his tanned skin dripping with sweat, carving lines down his chest and dripping into the crevices of his abs, his stomach clenching every time you squeeze around him; there's a blush that runs from his pecs to the tip of his ears, his brows furrowed with pleasure and his mouth parted as soft moans of your name leave him, canines digging into his bottom lip as he wills not to cum too soon. His eyes meet yours, dark and lustful, and you can't help yourself from hiding behind your hands, entirely overwhelmed.
"No— don't hide from me now," he throws your legs over his shoulders and closes in on you, folding you in half and continuing his cruel pace— he pries your hands from your face, lacing his fingers with yours and pinning them beside your head, his mouth inches away from yours. "I need to see you cum on my cock."
The air between you is charged and heated, and you're craning your head up to catch his lips, whining and moaning into his mouth as he brings you close to your climax; your nails dig into his hands, hips bucking up and chasing that peak that seems so overwhelmingly close— you're losing control of yourself, lost in the feeling of Taehyun— his warm body against yours, his hands that hold yours a little tighter, his thick cock that splits you open— and you squeeze your eyes shut.
"Taehyun, I'm gonna— gonna cum."
"Do it angel, I've got you— lemme feel it, c'mon—" it feels like time has gone still for a moment; your body arches off the bed, your breasts pressing against Taehyun's chest as you cum with a soft cry of his name, your cunt sucking him in and begging for more.
"'Atta girl… so pretty when you cum," he helps you ride it out, rolling his hips against yours, reaching down to trace soft circles on your clit until you're a trembling mess. He's peppering kisses all over your face, thrusting shallowly into you, pouting when you begin to whine. "I know baby, I know— I'm— I'm so close, just hold on a little more okay?"
"M'kay…" you mumble, feeling him smile against your lips, "Taehyun— cum inside me."
He groans, tracing his lips along your jaw. "Fuck— you can't be serious."
"I am," you can feel him twitching inside you, his hips beginning to lose their rhythm, "I want you to."
"Y-yeah? Want my cum?" he's so close, you can feel him losing control as he fucks into you— you nod, tilting your head to give him better access, "say please."
"Can you cum inside me?" you whine, breathless, "please? Please, I want you to fill me up…"
"Fuck. Of course baby, so cute when you beg," his head falls to the crook of your neck, his hips stilling deep inside you— his cock twitches and his hips subtly rut into you as he cums, hot and thick and endless as he pumps it into you, a thick ring forming at the base— his weight sinks you into the mattress, and all you can do is lie there and let him use your body to ride it out, his teeth nipping at your neck as he nuzzles deeper into your shoulder; you're tilting your head to rest against his, the two of you a panting, sweaty mess.
His grip on your hands loosens, and you're slipping from his hold to snake your arms around him, your nails scratching along his back while your other hand tangles into his dark hair, scratching his scalp— you'd almost think he were about to purr with the way he leans into your touch, his hands sneaking under your back to pull you up and flush against him.
It's silent; your body is cooling down, and you're turning your head to the side to look out his window— it's gotten so late.
"Stay." He grumbles, "sleep here."
You let out a deep breath, nodding. "I will."
"Good…" he's trailing off, his voice softening as he nuzzles your skin. "I don't think i would've had the energy to drive you back."
You laugh softly, feeling Taehyun's hold on you tighten, as though afraid you'd slip away. But you remain still, dragging your nails along his scalp and feeling him melt against you. There's a calm bliss that washes over you, and you think what little high you had left is fading. Taehyun turns his head, kissing the crook of your neck to get your attention.
"You really are beautiful, you know that?" he says, and you roll your eyes and hum. "I don't want this to be a one time thing. I wanna get to know you better."
You can feel butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach, pressing your lips together to stop a giddy laugh from escaping you. You take a moment to ensure your voice is even before you speak.
"Take me on a date then."
He nods immediately. "Deal."
It's quiet again— your touch is gentle on Taehyun's skin as the two of you catch your breath; slowly, you feel his breath even out, his head burrowing deeper into your neck. He's falling asleep, you realize, tapping his shoulder and watching him flinch.
"Taehyun…"
"Hmm?"
"You're still inside me… I'm so sticky," you say, hearing him mumble a soft 'oh'. "And I squirted on your face."
Silence.
"Oh yeah." Taehyun doesn't seem to be nearly as bothered by that fact as you are. "I'll draw us a bath."
Instead of acting on his words, Taehyun lingers in your arms, nuzzling against your skin— you catch him dozing off once more before he's finally getting up with a reluctant groan, as though the thought of leaving your side pained him; you're happily resigned to follow him, allowing him to pamper you for the rest of the night.
៹ sypnosis 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 beomgyu rarely loses his cool, obviously not in a fast-paced firm he is handling. but when a trouble came, he unintentionally lashes his annoyance during your presentation. even as your boss, he doesn't have the right to embarrass you. not when you had him on a tight leash after work hours.
៹ pairings 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 boss!beomgyu x fem!reader
៹ genre 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 smut w little to no plot. kinda enemies with benefits. hidden workplace romance. femdom <3
៹ warnings 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 detailed explicit content. sub!gyu + dom!reader. excessive use of the word mommy. p in v. unprotected sex (don't pls). semi-public sex. power play. clothed sex. subspace. oral (f rec). riding. slapping. cursing. degradation kink (m). pet names (good boy, pup, baby). denied orgasm.
៹ word count 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 4400+
YOUR CLOCK MUST BE MALFUNCTIONING AT THIS POINT. Sweeping your gaze around the room, you know that the people in front of you are thinking the same. Today was your scheduled presentation for the promotion to the open Head Manager position. In a confident stance, you are beyond prepared. This is what you have been working on for the last two months. Safe to say that you have finished it with overbearing satisfaction after long nights of research and proper practice.
But of course, what is a corporate life without misfortune and bad luck?
Because out of the thirty days of the month, your boss really chose this day to show up late in your office. It slowly melts your bottled courage and sanctioned words. Your boss, Beomgyu, was never late for any meetings. More so in an important presentation such as yours. He already gave you his word last week as you finalized this specific schedule.
Chewing your lips, your thighs have been bouncing for almost twenty minutes now. Eyes locked into the empty hallway, carrying a silent hope that Beomgyu will show himself in a blink. The soft hum of the projector, alongside the subtle buzz of the aircon, filled the quiet room. The other panels momentarily glared at their watches or scrolled through their phones to pass the time.
Soon, Mr. Jung, one of the department heads, cleared his throat to gather everyone’s attention. Your shoulders dropped from their composed poise, almost certain that he would have your presentation rescheduled because of one person’s doing.
You are gritting your teeth as you try to force a smile, meeting his impatient eyes. He was about to speak when the glass door swung open, revealing a disheveled Beomgyu with his forehead creased and sweat gliding down his temple. All the attention went to him, even holding your crumpled report in hand before carelessly sitting in his assigned chair.
What a way to enter your already ruined presentation.
“Are you all gonna stare at me?” Beomgyu’s deep, demanding voice bombarded the hall, nearly making the person close to you flinch. “Or are we gonna start this presentation?”
Despite being in a state of shock, your body moves before your mind does. Still processing how obnoxious he could be to barge in here, lash out at all of you when he is the one who arrived late. You connected your laptop to the projector before you silently observed the room—some of them are as confused as you are, while some are generally amused by how Beomgyu is acting.
Because he was never like this. He was known as that happy-go-lucky boss who has patience bigger than the firm he is handling. He never did this to past presentations you have been to, he was rarely late, and he never ever looked at you with those dark, glaring eyes as if you would never get things right in your whole life.
“Good day, dearest colleagues, especially to our respective heads. I am—”
“We all know who you are. Please get straight to the point.”
Your mouth hangs open as you stop yourself from scoffing. Beomgyu has his back against the swivel chair, looking at your improper state on the other end of the table. He is getting on your nerves. A fake smile forms on your lips before you turn into the next slide.
“Sure, sir,” You replied, voice tight yet controlled. “I want to begin my presentation by explaining my current position in the—”
Beomgyu audibly sighed, once again interrupting your flow. “The time scheduled for this presentation was only 45 minutes, correct?” He queried, brows furrowing while his eyes questioned the other people inside the room.
“Am I correct?” He repeated, tone going a pitch higher.
Holding on to your last strand of patience, you took a small breath. “Yes, sir.” You answered on behalf of everyone, fist tightly closed to remind yourself of the situation you are in.
You cannot snap at him. Not for now, at least.
“Then why are you not maximizing your time appropriately?” He snarled at you, intently scanning your figure before shifting in his chair. “You are aware that we have already read your report before this meeting, yes?”
His tone remains conceited, fingers now flipping through the pages before tilting his head at the question. Even if you are on the verge of bursting out, you gave him a stiff nod. His tongue poked out his cheeks, “If so, please continue with the reason why you deserve this position.”
You could feel the pitiful looks of your workmates, with some of the heads watching your poor self being rebuked even if your presentation hadn't started yet. The simmering annoyance in your chest has been bubbling, silently reminding you to keep things professional as you are still inside the office premises.
The silence stretches for somber countable minutes. And, under impulsive thinking, you closed your laptop shut. Beomgyu has his gaze locked on your actions, the hint of curiosity behind it almost made you chuckle.
“With all due respect,” You start, directly glaring at him from the other side. “I believe that I deserve this position because I know very well how to juggle my responsibilities no matter how overwhelming they may be.” A small smirk formed on your lips, proudly watching how every word you utter slowly drains the color out of his face.
“And, if you were to consider my credentials, I have a lot of experience in putting people back in their place.” Your smirk grew wider when his pupils began to roam around the place, now unable to maintain eye contact with you. The tension inside the room grew heavy as no one dared to speak after you, some were even entertained by the somewhat spectacle happening in the meeting. And if they only knew the meaning behind your words, their jaws would probably drop to the ground for good, too.
Because the truth is, no matter how many people have perceived him as the perfect boss, he would always come back to you to hang his tongue in exchange for a tiny taste of pleasure. Plus, considering how he whimpers at your mercy after work hours, he doesn't have the right to humiliate you like this.
Since, as per his preference, that is your job.
With Beomgyu going restless in his chair, you cannot help but push his buttons even more. “Some in this room have experienced it firsthand.” You offered a sly smile to everyone in the room, keeping the subtext between you two subtle to avoid any suspicion.
“Which, for what I know, would be a great asset to our firm.”
Silence once again enveloped the room, with several panels giving Beomgyu short glances to check if he was satisfied with your answer. Your boss seems to grow unfocused—breathes heavily with his hand fidgeting above the table. He almost looked like he forgot where he was. Your heart swelled at his posture, knowing his body well enough to recognize those familiar movements.
He is getting turned on. Pathetically so.
“May I entertain some more questions?” You gestured, not letting his horniness ruin this presentation for you. However, they all relied on their answer on Beomgyu, who has his head hanging low. All of these are really getting on your nerves, but still, you managed to steady your poise as the silence continued to ensue.
He spoiled your presentation, and you will make sure that he pays for it.
“CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR PRESENTATION.”
“You nailed that! If I were you, I would die.”
“Looking forward to being your subordinate, ma'am!”
An obligatory smile is displayed on your lips while your colleagues leave the meeting room. The 45 minutes just ended, and you are now gathering your things while you entertain their comments. You are glad that some heads managed to share their insights about your report, whereas Beomgyu has failed to do so.
Obviously not when you could imagine how embarrassingly hard he must be under the table.
“Thank you, I’ll see you all at lunch.” You replied to each of them, zipping your laptop bag before you turned your gaze at the empty meeting hall. The only ones left are you and your pathetic boss who still can't bring himself to stand up from his chair. For a moment, his eyes met yours, but he instantly looked away. The scoff that you kept on yourself finally spilled out, palms resting at your hips as you gawked at him. Slowly, you walked towards him, heels clanking on the marbled floor.
“Glad you stayed, sir,” You spoke in a tone a bit more fluid than usual. Beomgyu's stare remained on the floor, stripes of sweat gliding on from his forehead the moment you stood beside him.
“Don't you think we have some talking to do?” A giggle almost slipped past your lips when you saw an anxious gulp in his throat, a hand finding the headrest of his swivel chair. You gave the chair a gentle push, forcing him to gradually face you.
“Ha—hm?” Beomgyu's voice got strained in his throat, lips trembling before his eyes finally leveled yours. You cannot help but observe this overall figure that you failed to do when he abruptly arrived. His eyes are heavy, and his skin is nearly pale. His dark brown orbs are also dilated, as if no thoughts are lingering in his head.
Most importantly, his legs are tightly shut. Almost making his stained crotch go past your stare.
“Oh, wow,” The hint of amusement was evident in your voice, brows creasing at the sight. “Did all my talk really make you soil on your slacks?”
A dark chuckle erupts from you when he remains quiet. You leaned in your body closer, lessening the gap between your faces that made him twitch in his seat. “You seem to lose your cool, sir,” You grinned, pushing your knee between his thighs to open his legs wide. He whined at the sudden force, immediately shifting his gaze to the empty hallway to see if anyone was around.
You mimic his actions, slowly dragging your knee to rub his clothed cock. “What do you think your employees would say when they saw how horndog their boss is?” You teased, pressing it a little bit harder.
Low grumbles came from him, trembling hands trying to reach for your exposed thighs as your pencil skirt had hiked up. His palms are cold, weakly trying to get you off his crotch before someone else sees.
“We hah—agreed that…” The panic in his face was ultimately hilarious, especially when your hand starts to cup his cheeks. Applying enough pressure for him to feel your demanding presence, but not tight enough to hurt his flustered flesh.
“Agreed to what?” You whispered, smirking at how hard his cock is under the subtle touch of your knee. “No… No touching in the office?” He hesitantly answered, giving you a short glimpse before bringing his eyes back into the hallway. It was indeed fun to see him be anxious, but you are still pissed about what he did earlier.
You pushed his cheeks harshly, making him softly whine. Then, you stood straight, tugging his arms to force him to stand up. “Be a good boy and fetch the room’s remote.” You spat directly in his ear, using his favorite pet name to leave no room for him to say no. Beomgyu nods at your command, even stumbling forward when you suddenly push him out of the way.
Hastily sitting in his chair, you watched as he timidly reached for the remote control, giving the hallway small looks to keep an eye on other employees. With the remote in hand, he was about to walk when you stopped him with your glare.
“What?” His voice is relatively small, clutching the remote like it is his weapon against you.
“Lock the door.” Beomgyu’s eyes widen at the request, then he blinks at you like he is doubting your words. He seems to be double-thinking whether he should follow your demand, and it just irritates you how it makes him more desirable in your mind.
He is such a beautiful prey in wolf's clothing.
“Would you really keep mommy waiting here?” You sweetly muttered, using his other weakness against him. Beomgyu hurriedly shook his head, frantically walking towards the door to lock it from the inside. Soon, he arrived in front of you, offering the remote as if it were his mere duty to serve you.
“Good Beomie…” You quipped, grabbing the remote to switch the room's clear glass walls into opaque, tinted glass, keeping the situation between you two. Even if you want to humiliate him in front of everyone, you still have some self-decency to maintain your professional image. Beomgyu warily watched the walls, once more anxiously gulping as seconds passed by.
The moment that the walls had fully transitioned, you swiftly grasped his tie, pulling him closer to you. And Beomgyu, ultimately unaware of your move, failed to maintain his balance. Leaving him kneeling in the ground like a sad puppy with one harsh tug.
“Okay, let's start with what you did earlier,” Your fingers are playing with the fabric as you lift your leg on his shoulder. “What gives you the right to humiliate me, hm?” Your other hand went to his soft locks, pulling his strands roughly just to put him back in his headspace.
Beomgyu’s lips are quivering, chest heaving heavily. “I am… I am so—sorry, mommy” He is stumbling on his words, wincing at how you are holding his hair. “I just had a… uhm, a bad day,” He continued, staring at you with those glassy, puppy eyes that made him look dreamy.
Your leg wrapped around his neck starts to grow tighter, teeth gritting with how lame his reason is. “And you made the perfect decision to pour it out in my presentation.” You whispered to yourself, twirling his hair on your fingers before you licked your lips. Deliberately, you yanked his tie to pull him closer, barely satisfied with how pitiful he looked below you.
“You are so good at running your mouth earlier, sir,” You smugly said, letting go of his hair to raise your skirt a tiny bit higher to expose your inner thighs, and of course your panties—that had been soaked with how obedient he had been to you.
“Why not shut that mouth and use those pouty lips in my pussy?”
With the use of your calf wrapped around his neck, you pushed his face between your legs. Beomgyu audibly gasped when he smelled your sweet scent that always shuts down his mind, tongue now hanging as he scoots closer to reach your cunt. You cunningly smiled at the sight, gripping his hair again just to shove him in.
“Mhhmph!” He whined at your sudden action, wiggling his head below you, which made the tip of his nose brush against the soft parts of your pussy. You shuddered at the feeling, tasting a tiny bit of pleasure from his resistance. Before he could even fight back, you hit the back of his head with your palm, adding more pressure to his head to the point he could suffocate.
“Serve me, you little shit,” You exhaled at him, quietly gasping when you felt his warm breath fanning your damped panties. “Did you use your oh-so cool moment to feed your shitty ego, huh?” You scorned, feeling your air going uneven when you finally felt the wetness of his tongue gliding in the fabrics of your panties.
Beomgyu feverishly shook his head before he used his teeth to push the fabrics aside, finally revealing your delicate cunt to him. He whined at the sight, giving you a gentle glance before his tongue spread on your slit. A surge of tingling sensation roamed through your nerves, back unconsciously arching from the pleasure.
“Fuck, that's it,” You tried to keep your moans to yourself, but he is poking at the best spots in your clit has made it impossible. He was always good at giving you what you need, even better that he knows that he needs to serve you just to make up for his mistakes.
Your eyes rolled at the back of your head, hips now chasing his tongue just feel more satisfying friction. “You love lapping mommy's pussy, don't you?” You hissed, words spilling in your mouth barely cohesive when he skillfully sucked your aching bud. It even got worse when he swirled the tip of his tongue near your hole, amplifying the sensation in your abdomen.
The soft vibrations of his moans added more feeling to your lower stomach. And, alongside it are the nasty sounds of him slurping your wetness, which lands perfectly in your ear. “Such a good boy for letting me fuck your pretty face.” You managed to voice out, feeling yourself being airless from how his tongue moves in unsync directions while his lips continued to inhale your sticky essence.
Soon, a strained squeal left you that almost made him stop teasing your squelching hole. You immediately bit your lower lip to maintain the volume, so hard that you tasted a metallic blood in your buds.
“Is this… Are you o–okay?” Beomgyu mumbled in concern while his face was still buried between your thighs. You gave him a proper look, glassy eyes holding back those chunks of tears, plump lips that are covered in glossy remnants of your juices, and his crimson cheeks that made him extra adorable in your eyes.
Fuck, you would gamble all of your life’s property just to see this view every day.
“No,” Fear instantly struck his flushed face, eyes widely open in shock. You swore that you could almost see the screws of his mind working overtime just to come up with an answer or an action that would satisfy you.
“Because what I want you to use is your cock, not your tongue.”
The immediate shift in his eyes made you giggle, finally letting him go as you untangled your leg from his neck. You found his tie once more, now bringing him close to your lips as you leaned in to reach him.
Beomgyu’s lips are soft, almost too perfect and tender for someone who loves to run his mouth like a fully charged motor. He faintly whined when your tongue licked his bottom lip, his trembling hands cautiously placed in your lap. As his mouth gaped open, you abruptly pushed your tongue inside it, beyond caring if drool started to drip down your chin, or even if your red lipstick stained his face.
He began to suck your tongue that is shoved in his mouth, earnestly accepting everything that you are giving to him. You moaned at the feeling, hand going in to cup his cheeks and push your wet muscle deeper down his throat. It was relatively easy, especially when he was still on his knees.
A choked-up moan left him when his tongue accidentally bumped into yours, making him momentarily cough between the kisses. He tentatively pulled out, ears heating up in embarrassment. You mockingly looked at him, lips parted as you assessed what just happened.
“Oh, Gyu…” You sorrowfully called, clutching his collar to bring him with you as you stood from the chair. “You keep on disappointing me.”
In one swift movement, you switched your positions. And, before you pushed him back on his chair, you carelessly unbuckled his belt to yank down enough fabric to whip his pretty leaking cock. You heard a small whimper from him when your fingers subtly brushed his tip, overly sensitive from all the teasing.
“Such a cute little dick,” You hummed, hastily shoving him back into the seat. Discreetly, you wished that the swivel chair was strong enough to carry both of you before you hopped into his lap, making him silently curse in his breath.
“You'll let me use you like a good puppy, right?” You taunt, holding onto his shoulder for support as you align his tip into your hole. “Good puppies let themselves be fucked inside the meeting hall during work hours, right, pup?” You grilled harsher when he refused to answer, mind halfway in shutting down when his tip finally entered your aching walls.
Beomgyu has his eyes tightly shut, his breath getting ragged with his mouth hanging open. He cannot think straight, even barely comprehending what you are asking him. All he could think about was the warmness of your cunt welcoming his hard cock, and your leaking juices trailing down his length.
With his silence, you cannot help but feel irritated by it. Then, you stopped in the middle of sucking him in, before giving him a harsh slap.
“Fucking puppy is too pussydrunk to think,” You sneered, before clenching your pussy walls around him. He weakly groaned at the pleasure, his cheek tinted with bright red after the slap.
You know that he doesn't mind it. Not when his dick is deeply and perfectly seated inside your cunt
.Not minding if it is too late, Beomgyu managed to grasp the last strand of his sanity to nod at your questions. “Yes, I’m–mhmmp… I am a good puppy,” He mumbled to himself, his cock twitching inside you even in the simplest adjustment of your hip. “Your good pup, me… That's me…” He breathes out, rocking his hips feebly to seek the tiniest friction.
A devilish smirk formed on your lips, momentarily lifting your hips before you dropped your whole weight in his lap. He groaned at the pleasure mixed with the pain, head thrown back in the seat’s chair. “Fuck, you still think you are good to me?” You harshly cupped his cheeks in one hand, picking up the pace of your hips as you thrust above him faster.
“Mhmm–hah… Mommy's good puppy… Haah—” His words are hardly audible from how he is moaning, his hands finding the chair's handles to find support from the overwhelming pleasure your pussy is giving him. You cackled at his posture—his bossy, arrogant persona finally peeling off him the moment you showed the tiniest amount of degradation.
Too ironic for what he should uphold for having the highest position in the company.
“You would never be good enough for me, Beomgyu,” Your tone is filled with loathing and hatred, nails digging in his cheek with how tightly you are grasping them. A side of you knows that you don’t mean anything you've just uttered, but the way he whimpered at the way you ridicule him tells you that he is enjoying every syllable you throw at him.
You could hear the chair squeaking at your every movement, not that you mind, but it still gives you the ultimate satisfaction. The delicious drag of his cock inside your walls felt too blissful, uncontrollably pounding yourself above him like you have lost your mind in lust.
The fusion of your sultry moans echoed loudly in the room, the idea of being caught slipping past your mind as you continuously ram your pussy into his thick length.
“You would always be beneath me,” You jeered, quietly admiring the sublime view of your fucked up boss beneath you. “No matter how hard you try to top me, you just can't and won't.”
Beomgyu timidly moaned as your cunt began to overstimulate his cock by moving in uncoordinated thrusts, making his mind go crazy. You are toying with him, using him in your own need and will, and he is all over it. Strings of frail yes and mommy left his mouth, whole body covered in sweat from how turned on he was.
Even if he has always been disappointingly submissive and clumsy, Beomgyu's dick is probably the most perfect in size, thickness, and shape. Every time he enters you, you could feel your walls adjusting to his very size, with his pulsating veins rubbing the perfect spots deep inside your pussy. With one go, he could surely reach that spongy, sweet area that tingles your nerves heavenly.
“Remember that,” You warned, adjusting your position above him before slamming your hips into his. This time, you finally felt his tip nudging into your cervix, making you wince with how it made you shiver. Beomgyu agitatedly nodded at your words, his hand finally finding your hip before gripping into your flesh like he wanted to rip your skin out.
And that means only one thing—he is about to burst out.
“Wanna cum on mommy's cunt, puppy?” You haughtily asked him, clenching around his cock more tightly, enough to make him groan in overwhelming delight. “Yes—Please, please…” His voice cracked when you started to rock your hips harder, fingers finding both of his nipples to stimulate him even more. Beomgyu's delirious state feeds your dominant pride and ego, making the luscious build-up in your lower stomach grow faster.
“Mommy, fuck—Need to cum…” His hips began to move to meet your hips, not minding if tears are now pouring out of his eyes, or even if his broken voice is heard in the hallway outside. Beomgyu looks so fragile under the lewd grip of your gummy walls, like he would actually lose his ability to breathe and think when stopped abusing his poor sensitive cock.
For which you did. Unmindedly pulling out when you felt the tight knot in your stomach unravel, moaning sweetly as you came. Beomgyu was stunned at the sight of your pussy pouring out thick globs of cum, evidently disappointed with how he couldn't lick those juices dripping down your plushy thighs.
Twitching at the feeling, you sighed heavily as you brushed your hair upwards. Beomgyu followed you with his gaze, silently hoping that you won't leave him hanging after you came with the help of his cock. He was then faced with horror when you stood up from sitting above him, jaw in partial shock with his hand reluctantly reaching for yours.
“Wa–wait… Where are you—”
You cut him off by harshly swaying your arms, removing his sweaty palms from yours. With a devilish smile, you faced him. Mind taking note of every emotion on his face as you would love it to be permanently sketched in your brain.
“Go fuck yourself, sir,” You emphasized at the last word, before you gave his cheek a light slap. “You deserve it.”
wawi's note: i think i went too much w this... still, i missed writing gyu >< sooo, a win is a win !! thank u to my sweetest komibabi for requesting this prompt hehe (i really can't write vanilla, so yeah... i love u though!) thank you for reading, darlings! likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! mwa mwa <333
Soobin tries to play it cool. He straightens up, runs his long fingers through your hair, tucking it behind your ear with exaggerated gentleness. “I’m being very normal,” he declares, voice still slurred. You wish you could tell him that half of his body weight was on top of you, but you don't have the heart to do so when he was being so cute and hot at the same time.
WARNINGS ◦ drinking ◦ alcohol consumption ◦ sfw ◦ i mentioned soobin's height a thousand times i'm sorry ◦ drunk soobin and other txt members ◦ pretty light read
1,4O9 ━━━━━ drabble soobin x reader
۶ৎ 𝓜 , i need this man in a very unhealthy way. my number one husband right here guys. need him to birth my kids or summ. mid writing as always bye. we made a part two of this work, check it here.
━━━━━ read on ao3
The low hum of laughter fills the private dining room, plates half-cleared and soju bottles scattered like fallen soldiers. Comeback promotions are finally over, and tonight is the first real breather everyone’s had in months. You’re pleasantly tipsy, cheeks warm, but sober enough to play caretaker. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, is gone.
Soobin is slumped against you, all six-foot-something of broad, warm muscle. His long legs are tangled with yours under the table, one big hand curled possessively around your thigh like he might float away if he lets go. His neck is fully exposed where the collar of his oversized button-up has slipped open—flushed deep pink all the way down to his collarbones, the color spreading beautifully across his chest. Every time he laughs, that pretty red deepens.
“Baby,” he whines right against your ear, voice low and syrupy, breath hot. His lips brush the shell of your ear on purpose. “You’re not even looking at me. I did so good this comeback… don’t I deserve all your attention?”
You bite back a smile, stroking his fluffy hair. “You’re drunk, Soob.”
“Am not,” he lies, then immediately ruins it by nuzzling into your neck with a pathetic little sound. His drunk eyes—half-lidded, sparkling, unfairly hot—find yours when he pulls back just enough to wriggle his eyebrows at you. The effect is devastating. That lazy, lopsided smile of his makes your stomach flip even after years together.
Across the table, Taehyun snorts into his water. “Hyung, you’re so gone. You just tried to feed Y/N a piece of lettuce with your fingers. You know she hates it.”
The whole table erupts—Beomgyu cackling loudest, Kai screaming something you can't comprehend, Yeonjun recording on his phone with zero shame. Even the staff friends who’ve known you all forever are trying to make a point.
Soobin tries to play it cool. He straightens up (as much as a giant clingy man can), runs his long fingers through your hair, tucking it behind your ear with exaggerated gentleness. “I’m being very normal,” he declares, voice still slurred. Then he ruins it again by leaning his full weight on you, chin on your shoulder, whispering hotly, “You smell so good… wanna go home and cuddle. Or… not just cuddle.” He wriggles his eyebrows again, playful and shameless.
You laugh, cupping his burning cheek. God, he’s so fine like this—tall frame loose and relaxed, broad shoulders brushing yours, that exposed flushed neck begging to be kissed, drunk eyes full of open adoration. Years of dating him and he still makes your heart race like the first time.
Taehyun leans over, poking Soobin’s arm. “Hyung, blink twice if she needs to carry you out.”
Soobin blinks once, slowly, then twice while staring straight at you with the hottest, dumbest smile you’ve ever seen.
The energy is starting to wind down, the warm glow of the hanging lanterns casting soft amber light over the table. Empty soju bottles glint beside half-eaten side dishes, and the low chatter of the staff friends mixes with the distant hum of the restaurant’s playlist.
You stroke his hair again. “You okay, baby? Want some water?”
“Mmm… yeah,” he mumbles, but instead of reaching for the glass, he picks up the last bit of his soju, takes two slow, deliberate sips like he’s trying to prove he can still function. The liquid makes his already flushed neck and chest look even warmer under the low lighting. He sets the glass down with careful focus, then goes surprisingly quiet.
His big body is still pressed against yours, one arm draped heavily around your waist, but the playful wriggling stops. You can tell he’s concentrating hard—eyelids heavy, long lashes casting shadows on his cheeks, jaw set like he’s personally fighting off sleep just to stay here with you a little longer. The ambient glow from the paper lanterns paints golden highlights across his sharp jawline and the soft curve of his lips. His broad chest rises and falls in slow, steady breaths, the open collar of his shirt slipping even lower, revealing more of that pretty flushed skin.
You keep stealing glances at him, unable to look away. He catches you every time. Each time your eyes meet, a small, sleepy smile tugs at his mouth, deep dimples carving into his cheeks like they were made just for you.
“You’re staring,” he whispers after a while, voice lower now, a little rough around the edges. He leans in closer, nose brushing your temple. “Am I that handsome when I’m drunk?”
“Insanely,” you admit, brushing your thumb over one of his dimples. “But you’re also about to pass out on me.”
“Am not…” he lies softly, then chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest into yours. The table has mostly quieted, everyone lost in their own sleepy conversations, fairy lights twinkling overhead like tiny stars. Soobin’s fingers trace lazy patterns on your side, his warmth wrapping around you like a blanket.
After another minute of comfortable silence, he straightens up just enough to look around the table, then back at you. His dimples flash again as he smiles, slow and sweet. “You want anything else, love? Dessert? More water? Anything…” He pauses, blinking slowly like the words are taking extra effort. "I'm gonna go pay, ok?"
You melt a little, heart squeezing at how hard he’s trying to be coherent and responsible even while clearly fighting sleep. “I’m good, Soob. We can head home.”
He nods, dimples deepening as he pulls you closer one last time, pressing a lingering, slightly clumsy kiss to your cheek. "Be right back."
You watch him rise, all tall and broad and still a little unsteady, that flushed neck catching the warm lantern light as he buttons his collar with clumsy fingers. The shift hits you instantly— the second he decides it’s time to handle things, the whiny, clingy drunk melts away and your responsible boyfriend clicks back into place. It’s the same Soobin who led the group through months of brutal promotions without complaint, the one who always makes sure everyone eats, rests, and gets home safe.
He stands there for a second, scanning the table with hazy but focused eyes, mentally counting bottles and plates like he’s checking for anything forgotten. His big hand rests on the back of your chair for balance, thumb brushing your shoulder once, gently, before he steps away.
Yeonjun notices immediately. With a small, knowing smirk, the older boy slips out of his seat and follows Soobin toward the counter without a word. You can’t help but smile as you watch them from afar. Soobin is already pulling out his card, insisting in that soft, slurry voice that tonight’s on him—“No, hyung, I got it. You all worked hard too…”—while Yeonjun quietly argues back, trying to split it anyway. Their voices are low, the exchange fond and familiar, like two older brothers bickering over who gets to treat the kids. It’s so cute you almost laugh out loud.
The soft amber glow of the restaurant wraps around them, fairy lights twinkling overhead, the quiet clink of glasses and low chatter from the remaining staff friends filling the warm air. Soobin towers over everyone even when swaying slightly, his broad shoulders filling out that half-unbuttoned shirt, cheeks and neck still beautifully pink. He’s fighting sleep so hard for this one last responsible act, and it makes your chest ache with affection.
You love this side of him more than anything—the quiet leader, the attentive one who acts like a true father figure to the boys even when he’s barely standing. He remembers the little things no one else does. He carries the weight without ever making it feel heavy. After years together, it still makes your heart flutter: how he can go from playful, whiny, and shamelessly clingy to this—steady, caring, and quietly in control—in the span of a heartbeat.
Eventually they come back, Soobin looking victorious but sleepy, Yeonjun rolling his eyes fondly behind him. Your boyfriend immediately returns to you, sliding back into his seat and draping his long arm around your shoulders like it’s the only place he belongs.
“Done,” he murmurs against your temple, voice soft and proud. “Ready to go home now?"
You lean into his warmth, breathing in his familiar scent mixed with soju and the faint restaurant aroma. “Yeah, Soob. Let’s go home."
content: friends with benefits (feelings are mutual actually), porn without plot, explciit mature content, munch! yeonjun, yeonjun wears rings+glasses+tongue piercing, one word of daddy used, unprotected sex, slight mean dom! yeonjun, light degrading, pictures taken (reader didn't give verbal consent but doesn't mind).
word count: 3.4k.
taglist: @lolliloopsy.
You knew you shouldn't be here.
Heck, you shouldn't have texted him in the first place. You had told yourself and your friends that you'll put a stop to this. That you will stop showing up at Yeonjun's doorstep. That you'll stop sleeping with him and letting him pull the reins.
But with the rate you were going, you've already made a fool of yourself.
Examinations were finally over and normally, you would be celebrating and having the time of your life at a party, getting drunk on whatever horrible drinks the party host had to offer. But here you are, on the second floor in his bedroom, laying on his bed with your clothes decorating the floor, no longer serving its purpose.
"Ngh, c-can't-," you whimpered.
You thrusted out your hands, blindly trying to finding something, anything to grip onto. Only for you to end up grabbing a fistful of Yeonjun's long, silky pitch-black hair while your free hand grasped onto the pillow beneath your head for dear life.
You could literally feel the way your pussy continuously pulsating around his skillful tongue. The cold, smooth surface of his tongue piercing occasionally bumping against your clit makes you see the white pearly gates of heaven. The way Yeonjun grinned into your pussy didn't went and feel unnoticed by you.
"Oh fuck!"
You cried out, back arching off the bed when he pushed two fingers in. There wasn't any resistance and the glide was smooth. He expertly curled them, easily locating that delicate, spongy spot and poked at it, causing stars to explode behind your eyelids. Your thighs trembled, your stomach muscles tightening with the all-too familiar feeling of arousal making its appearance.
You could hear the faint sounds of heavy-boosted music playing downstairs—a reminder of that you're supposed to be enjoying the party with your friends. And not laying on the sheets with your legs spread as Yeonjun have you for breakfast, lunch, dinner and dessert too.
Goosebumps formed on your skin when you feel the cold frames of his glasses firmly pressed against your inner thighs, with how he was trying to bury his face in your dripping pussy. The rings Yeonjun wore didn't help either—the cold metal circles with different designs hovering over it had left imprints behind, with how hard he dug his fingers into your thighs.
The rings were covered in a thin layer of your slick—solid evidence of how you reaching your high a few minutes ago the moment your back hit the sheets.
Your ears turn red with embarrassment at the sound of Yeonjun greedily slurping your slick, like there was no tomorrow. You would have thought he was about to die, with how needy he was.
"Fuck, pussy so good. Could stay here forever," he whined, mind spinning with how addictive you taste on the tip of his tongue. To him, nothing could taste as good as you. If he could, he would rather spend the rest of his life living between your legs, worshiping you like you deserve it.
It's insane with the fact that he was able to make you come undone twice in the span of thirty minutes—a sign he knows your body well. Even better than you. You should be pushing him away, your poor, overstimulated pussy crying and screaming for help.
But you couldn't.
Not when Yeonjun gave a light, sharp nip to your puffy lips, causing you to cry out his name. You mewled when he chuckled against your pussy—the vibrations making your legs twitched.
"Shh, we don't want them to hear you now, do we? Unless that's something you're into," he shushed you, eyes flickering up to your face for a split second.
Your lips dropped, forming a silent 'O' shape at the feeling of him pushing two fingers into your stretched-out, red and swollen pussy. Yeonjun swore under his breath at how your gummy walls let him in with ease, feeling no form of resistance.
He pushed them in until he was knuckles-deep, his cold metal rings brushing against your pussy causing you to let out a series of soft whines and moans that sounds nothing but angelic to him.
"Look at you, already fucked out before I fuck you," he sneered, words dripping with disdain as he pushed himself up so he could get a clear, unobstructed view of your state.
Your eyes were glazed over with lust. Swollen, bruised lips parted as you panted, trying to catch your breath. Your hair was a mess, spread out beneath you. The sad excuse of the tank top you wore was pushed up, along with the straps of both your top and bra pushed down to your shoulders. Your neck was covered in hickeys and bite marks, thanks to Yeonjun who had purposely left them higher than what your shirts can conceal from the public's curious eyes.
He cooed when you whimpered, eyes rolling up to the back of your head as he curled his long, slender fingers in just the right angle, enough for you to see stars exploding in your vision. Stretching himself, he ducked his head so he could whisper into your left ear.
"Aw, what's wrong? Can't speak? What happened to the (Name) that was telling me she wanna end this, hm?" He taunts, his hot breath grazing against your skin with every word he spoke. He smirked when he felt you tighten around his fingers.
Yeonjun rested his thumb on your clit, pressing down on it before rubbing it in slow circles. His action made your legs kicked out but he was quick to hold you down, locking you in place. He moved back down, returning to his previous and rightful position.
This time, he paid special attention to your clit, licking at it only with the tip of his tongue. He could see how your pussy fluttered, with more slick dripping.
The filthy sight sends heat down to his cock, twithcing in the tight, uncomfortable restraints of his jeans. As much as he wants to pound into you with no mercy, he wants you to know that no matter what you say, you'll always come back to him. Because he's the only one who knows how to please you.
With newfound determination, Yeonjun buried his face deep in your pussy, until the tip of his nose brushed against your clit, gliding his tongue piercing along your walls. It's like he wants to die with him being suffocated by your pussy. This drew a moan from you, followed by your weak protests.
"Wait, t-too much—hah," you moaned, smacking his broad, sturdy shoulders but he was unfazed.
Slap!
You jumped when he landed a light, fleeting slap right on your core. The way your pussy reacted—fluttering at the mere contact didn't go unnoticed by him. And of course, he took this chance to tease you.
"Oh? Does this turns you on? Knew you're a dirty slut," he purred, running his ring finger along your puffy folds.
"Wonder how your friends will react if they see how much of a whore you are. Getting fucked by someone who you claimed you have had enough," he barked out a laugh.
He didn't give you time to breathe, to speak or to react. Yeonjun switched between licking and sucking on your clit until you were being tipped over the edge. He didn't slow down or let up, greedily swallowing your creamy slick like a man on a mission while pumping his fingers in and out of you. The bedroom was filled with the loud squelching sounds along with your pleasured sounds as it gradually get louder and louder.
A part of you felt embarrassed, thinking that the people downstairs will be able to hear you but the thought flew out of your mind when he slide his stained, dirtied fingers out of your leaking hole with an embarrassingly loud squelch sound. You felt boneless, your limbs growing as heavy as steel as you struggle to breathe, panting loudly to catch your breath.
Slap!
You let out a started yelp when Yeonjun slapped your stimulated, sensitive pussy for the second time. You glared at him, ready to tell him off but you paused at how his glasses were drenched with your slick. It's clear he didn't bother removing or cleaning it. You weren't sure why but seeing your body fluids dripping from his glasses made you want to rub your thighs together.
It's like he belongs to you. But deep down, you knew that won't happen.
The two of you had agreed that this was only a friends with benefit relationship, with no strings attached. But as time past, the lines start to blur. You weren't blind with the way Yeonjun was treating you—like you're his partner. His girlfriend.
And the thought would have made your heart flutter, if you haven't seen him shoving his tongue down some random girl's throat an hour ago.
That was what made you decided to pull your big girl pants up, to confront him—to tell him that you were done with this. But all it takes was for Yeonjun to cock his head to the side, pull you in by your waist and crash his lips against yours for you to forget everything else, bringing you to your current situation.
You let out a muffled whine against his lips as he rocked his hips against your core. You could feel the outline of his cock, thick and hanging between his legs and in the restraints of his jeans.
"Look at you, dripping all over me. Want me to fuck you, baby?" He chuckled, breaking the kiss.
His eyes flickered down, watching how you were soaking the thick fabric of his jeans with you grinding against him. The slightly rough surface made your pussy throbbed, the need to be filled rising.
You nodded your head, unable to find it in yourself to speak. But Yeonjun wasn't pleased. He reached down to give a mean pinch of your clit, watching how you flinched from it.
"Nuh uh, use your words, baby. I can't read your mind," he clicked his tongue.
And because this is Yeonjun, he pushes two fingers back into your stretched pussy, easily finding that one spongy spot and wasted no time in abusing it, reducing you to a whining mess as you couldn't speak. You wildly thrashed about on the soiled sheets, letting out a series of moans and whines along with the chanting of his name. Although, you weren't sure if you want him to stop or to keep going.
"I'm waiting," he drawled.
Unlike you, who was already fucked out and in a mess, Yeonjun was still fully clothed and relaxed, like he has all the time in the world. The contrast of your appearances show the dynamic of your relationship. Of who's sitting on the throne while who obeys who.
"J-Junie," you mewled, accidentally using his nickname instead of his real name but he didn't point it out.
His eyes were focused on your face, admiring how responsive you are to every single, little touch. Something possessive dark came to life at the thought of how no one else was able to see you like this. About how he was the reason why and how you had ended up like this.
"Yes, sweetheart? C'mon, use your words. I know you want it," he coax you, as if you're actual lovers when you're far from that.
You whimpered, pawing at the front of his black shirt as you looked at him with teary eyes, lips curling down in a pout.
"P-Please, wan' you to touch me.. Wanna feel you.."
"Oh? But I am touching you already. You gotta be more specific," he teases, his fingers moving in a scissors-like movement in your pussy, making a series of squelching sounds that sounds like something shot straight out of a pornographic movie.
You sniffled, tear droplets trickling down your cheeks. "M-Mean, so mean," you babbled.
Yeonjun did everything but to give in to your pleas. He furrowed his eyebrows, purposely jutting his lips down to a pout—copying your expression.
"Mean? You're saying I'm mean when you're the one laying on my bed and soaking my sheets? Guess you don't want my cock then."
To show that he wasn't lying, he pulled his fingers out, ignoring your pathetic attempts of trying to stop him, to hold him in place. He backed away, ready to get out of bed when you shot up, hand grabbing his wrist.
"No, don't!" You protested.
Yeonjun paused, looking at you over his shoulder and arched an eyebrow. "Don't what?"
"..Don't go," you muttered under your breath, not having the courage to face him.
"And why not?"
You internally groaned at how he was playing hard to get. If you were in your right mind, you would've said something snarky but at this point, you were too far gone to care. All you care about was getting his stupid cock in you, wanting him to fill you up. And the sooner he do it, the better it is for you. And maybe him, but who knows?
"'Cause I want you to.." Your voice trailed off, hesitant and embarrassed.
"To? Go on, I'm listening," he prods you further, lips curling up in a smirk. You were almost tempted to smack it off his stupidly handsome face. Curse him and his good looks.
"Want you to fuck me, pretty please?" You begged.
The moment those words left your lips, you were being shoved down into the sheets but this time, onto your arms and knees with your bare ass up in the air. You squeaked, face buried in the pillow—the very same pillow that you had drooled on. Your ears registered the sounds of Yeonjun unbuckling his belt, followed by the unzip of his jeans.
"W-Wait—hngh!"
You protested, only for the words to die in your throat as your fluttering cunt were being split into half, condom forgotten. The obscene sound of slick spewing out everywhere reverberated against the thin four walls.
Your elbows were trembling while trying to support your body weight. No matter how many times you've done this, you still couldn't get used to the grith and size of his cock. Without the condom, you could feel every ridge against your gummy, velvety walls.
Yeonjun, on the other hand, felt like he was in heaven. He sharply inhaled, digging his hands into your waist as he looks down at you from above, desire glimmered in his clouded eyes.
"Shit, you feel so good. So tight for me," he murmured, his right hand tracing the outline of your spine, feeling the way you shivered under his touch. Leaning down so his body engulfed yours, shielding you from the ceiling lights, he whispered into your right ear, the hand that was on your spine now moved to tease your hardened right nipple, kneading your breast like it's dough.
"You like this, don't you? Like that you're made for me," he coos.
"Choi Yeonjun, if you don't start moving, I swear to god I'll—"
You couldn't finish your half-empty threat, not when he starts pounding into your swollen pussy at a harsh, unrelenting and unforgiving pace—a breathless but loud moan was ripped from your throat—needy, carnal and erotic.
Your pussy was comically stretched wide around his member to accommodate the girthy size. The coil in your stomach enlarges as every second passed by how full you felt as he slides in and out of your soaked center.
Yeonjun lets out a mean, low chuckle. "You'll what? Find someone else to fuck you?" He paused, forcefully pushing you down into the pillow and grabbed a fistful of your hair, tugging on it like he's riding a horse.
The sounds you let out could be compared to a professional pornstar, with how you're babbling nonsense and chanting his name like a sacred prayer. You couldn't speak or focus on anything else but on the intoxicating feeling of his cock hitting that one sensitive spot, over and over.
"Think you can find someone else to keep you and this greedy little cunt of yours satisfied?" He sneered, his free hand moving to pinch your poor, sensitive clit.
He laughed at how your tighten around him at his action. "They'll never be able to keep up with you, princess. Only I can and you best remember that."
"Ngh, I-I'm so-sorry daddy," you moaned, not even aware that you had slipped up but thankfully, Yeonjun was too far gone to notice.
"Yeah? You're sorry? If you're sorry then you better moan my name so everyone can hear who's making you feel this good," he snarled, tugging your hair backwards.
"F-Fuck! It's y-you, Yeonjun! Oh god, I'm gonna cum," you let out a wanton and high-pitched moan, not caring if the people downstairs were able to hear it or not.
"Then cum," he demanded, delivering one final, sharp and hard thrust that buries himself deep to the hilt as you came with his name spilling from your lips, smooth like water.
Yeonjun was quick to follow suit, spilling deep inside of you as he painted your abused walls white. He groaned, leaning back to get a magnificent view of a creamy, white ring surrounding the base of his cock. He spread you apart, watching while chewing on his bottom lip at how the sticky, thick and white strands are further spread apart.
Snap snap!
The sound of a camera going off made you twitched as you lay on the sheets, body violently twitching from the aftershocks of a mind-blowing orgasm. You wanted to question him but you didn't have the strength in you to push yourself up or even turn your head to his direction.
While you remained laying on his bed, body already turned to goo, Yeonjun was still able to move perfectly fine, like he wasn't the cause for your current state.
He got off the bed, running a hand through his ruffled, messed-up black hair as he headed to the joint bathroom. He reappeared shortly, holding two damp towels. One to wipe you down and the other for himself. Yeonjun muttered soft apologies when you flinched from the towel's rough surface against your sensitive pussy.
Once he was done, he changed the sheets, replacing them with new ones. He then handed you a plastic bottle of water, even helping to unscrew the tightly sealed lid and you gulped it down without hesitation.
"Here, you can wear this while your clothes are being washed in the washing machine," he murmured, handing you a pile of clean, fresh clothes.
Nodding, you allowed him to aid you in wearing them. You were immediately hit with the scent of his lingering cologne as his clothes completely engulf you. You saw the way Yeonjun's eyes lingered on your frame, drinking in the way you fit in his clothes before he forcefully tear them away.
You fiddled with the left sleeve, unsure of what to say. Normally, you would be getting dressed and leave his room but something tells you that just for today, something was different.
"..Do you wanna stay for the night? It's late and it isn't safe for you to go home," he asked, uncertainty laced in his voice.
Gone was the cocky and smug Yeonjun, now replaced with him acting awkward and shy, as if he wasn't the one responsible for blowing your back out a few minutes ago. Your heart softened at how he scratched the back of his neck, fiddling with his now cleaned rings.
"Yea, sure. I'll stay," you murmured, your heart skipping when his face lit up like a lightbulb.
Yeonjun got onto the bed, making himself comfortable and you followed. You ended up resting your head under his chin as he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close until you're squashed against his chest. You didn't say anything, didn't mention about why he was doing this out of a sudden.
There wasn't any need to. Not when you already knew how he feels when he pressed a soft, loving kiss on your forehead. Not when he draw invisible, random patterns on your elbow lovingly.
"Good night, I'll be here when you wake up," he whispered and if you closed your eyes, you can hear the smile in his words.
And just like that, you fell asleep, entering the land of dreams with him following suit.
SUMMARY: Text messages between you and your roommate who …? lowkey hates you? Or does he. You’re not too sure.
DISCLAIMERS: strictly smau :P , soobin kinda chud lowk but it’s okay he makes up for it, fluff!!!!!! anddd yeonjun mention bc that’s lowk ur bf but Soz.
💌 mika’s message SOOBIN CAN YOU HEAR ME. txtblr pls im back. ADDRESS ME. LET ME IN. i’ll write more for them. for yeonjun too even. My good friend taehyun too hello. More beomgyu .. more kai.. more soobin… just say the word okay….. i like it here….. i also . OKAY DONT MIND THE FAST ENDING I WAS RUNNING OUT OF SS ROOM I GOT CARRIED AWAY. okay bye.
the other nurses think doctor kang is cold-hearted, but you know better than that
--------------
wc: 6.4k
pairing: taehyun x reader
author’s notes: i've been watching resident playbook so it inspired this one. i also know nothing about working at the hospital but i did my best
tags/warnings: doctor!taehyun x new doctor!reader, "i hate everyone but you" trope, workplace jealousy, reader experiences scolding at work, lil bit of workplace favoritism, dr. kang vs taehyun, probably don't date your co-worker unless its taehyun.
Boyfriend on Demand Masterlist
--------------
The automatic doors slid open with a quiet hiss, and the sterile scent of antiseptic hit you before anything else. It clung to the air, sharp and clean. You adjusted your badge, R1 printed in bold beneath your name, and tried to ignore the way your stomach twisted as you stepped fully into the hospital.
First day. You told yourself you were ready. You had survived med school, rotations, exams that felt designed to break you. But somehow, this felt different. This was no longer a learning experience but real life.
The walk up to your floor was nerve wracking. Fellow doctors rushing back and forth between patients, nurses organizing lab tests and orders. Amidst the noise, you can only focus on the sound of your feet clacking against the tile flooring.
“New resident?” You stopped and turned at the sound, finding a cluster of nurses gathered at the station. One of them, kind eyes, knowing smile, gestured you over.
You nodded, forcing a small smile as you approached. “Yeah. Just started today.”
A few of them exchanged looks. Not unfriendly. Their darting eyes between one another gave the impression they were worried. “Starting on this floor?” another nurse asked.
You nodded again, gripping the strap of your bag a little tighter. There was a brief pause before someone let out a quiet laugh. “Oh, good luck. Just wait until you meet him.”
Your brows furrowed. “Meet who?”
“The reason half the residents either toughen up or transfer out,” someone muttered.
“Hey,” the first nurse nudged her, but she didn’t exactly deny it. Instead, she turned back to you, voice lowering slightly. “Dr. Kang.”
The name settled heavily across you and the nurses. Barely a whisper but enough to change the atmosphere around you. She said it like it meant something, something you hadn’t learned the importance of yet.
“He’s…” she hesitated, searching for the right word. “Brilliant.”
“Terrifying,” someone else added.
“Meticulous,” another corrected.
“Nitpicky,” came a voice from the back. “Like, he’ll notice if your note has one extra space.”
A few quiet chuckles followed, but you could feel the undercurrent beneath it, respect laced with something sharper. “Cold,” the first nurse finished softly. “Not cruel. Just, don’t expect any warmth from him.”
Your pulse ticked up despite yourself. “Oh.”
“Just do your job, be thorough, and don’t take it personally,” she added, gentler now. “He’s like that with everyone.”
That didn’t help nearly as much as she probably intended. You swallowed, nodding again. “Got it.”
But as you turned away, heading further down the hall toward where orientation was supposed to be, their words echoed in your head. Cold. Nitpicky. Don’t take it personally. Great.
—
The conference room was already half full when you slipped in, a few other residents scattered across the seats. Some looked just as tense as you felt. Others tried and failed, to look relaxed.
You took an empty seat near the middle, smoothing your coat unconsciously. A comfortable chatter filled the space, tones still hushed as if the other residents were afraid to be too loud. You knew it would be an adjustment with this new job, awkwardness and anxiety was expected. But knowing the other senior doctors and nurses gave most of the new residents forewarning about Dr. Kang made your anxiety spike.
It wasn't long before the room went quiet. You didn’t see him walk in at first, you just felt the shift. Conversations cut off mid-sentence. Chairs straightened. Even the air seemed to still. When you looked up, you understood why.
Dr. Kang stood at the front of the room, posture straight, expression unreadable. There was nothing outwardly intimidating about him, no raised voice, no harsh movements, but something about the way he carried himself demanded attention. Precision. Control. He didn’t look as scary as the others describe, although looks could be deceiving.
His gaze swept across the room, sharp and assessing, like he could take you apart layer by layer in seconds. “Welcome,” he said, voice even. Not warm. Not cold. Just flat.
“You are here because you have met the minimum expectations required to begin training.” A beat. “That does not mean you are competent or ready to practice on your own.” A few residents shifted uncomfortably.
“You will be expected to learn quickly. Mistakes will happen.” His eyes flicked briefly to someone in the front row. “Repeated mistakes will not.” Your fingers curled slightly in your lap. Okay. So the rumors weren’t exaggerated.
“As residents, you represent this institution. Sloppiness, inattentiveness, and assumptions will not be tolerated.”
Then, just for a moment, his gaze landed on you. And stayed there. It wasn’t long. Maybe a second. Two at most. But it felt longer. Something in his expression shifted, so subtle you almost thought you imagined it. His eyes lingered, just slightly, a quick look up and down your frame. It was like he was trying to place you.
He looked away as if nothing had happened, continuing without pause. “You will report to your assigned teams after this briefing.”
Your heart was beating faster than it should have been. Why did he look at me like that? You swallowed, forcing yourself to focus, but your thoughts kept circling back.
Cold, they said. Maybe. But that look didn’t feel like indifference.
—
Each day settled into a rhythm faster than you expected. Mornings blurred into a cycle of small, necessary tasks: reviewing labs, updating charts, tracking down signatures, delivering medications with a polite smile that felt just a little too rehearsed. It wasn’t glamorous, but it grounded you. It kept your hands busy, your mind focused.
Afternoons were different, your favorite part of the day. Afternoons were when you got to watch.
You trailed behind senior residents and attendings, standing just off to the side as they spoke with patients, made decisions, moved with a kind of certainty you were still trying to build. Sometimes they’d pull you in, ask a question, let you examine, let you try. Those moments felt like oxygen. By the end of your first week, you were starting to feel like maybe, just maybe, you could do this.
“Hey,” one of your co-residents whispered as you both leaned against the counter at the nurses’ station, stealing a rare moment of stillness. “Have you shadowed Dr. Kang yet?”
You stiffened slightly. “Not yet.” A few others nearby perked up immediately.
“Oh my God,” someone groaned. “He grilled me yesterday. Like, full interrogation over a progress note.”
“I heard he made Daniel redo his entire patient presentation because he said it was ‘careless,’” another added, making air quotes.
“It was one missing detail!” Daniel defended from across the room. “One!”
“That’s all it takes,” someone shot back. You let out a small, nervous laugh, though your stomach had already started that familiar twisting again.
“Well,” your co-resident said, clapping you lightly on the shoulder, “good luck. I think you’re scheduled to observe him this afternoon.”
Your heart dropped. “Me? Today?”
Your co-resident nods solemnly, “Today.”
—
You double-checked your notes three times before heading to the assigned floor, your steps just a little slower than usual. The hallway felt quieter here, like even the noise knew better than to linger.
Walking through the hall, you repeat to yourself like a mantra: Don’t be sloppy. Don’t miss details. Don’t—
“Dr.?” You turned quickly, almost too quickly. He was already there.
Dr. Kang stood a few steps away, hands tucked neatly into the pockets of his coat, expression as composed as ever. Up close, it was worse, sharper. His presence had a weight to it that made you instinctively straighten. His black hair cut neatly parting to reveal his forehead. A pair of glasses sit at the bridge of his nose. Even his scrubs seemed to be ironed flat.
“Yes—sorry—yes,” you managed, hoping your voice didn’t betray how nervous you suddenly felt. You briefly look down at yourself, in horror at how sloppy you felt in comparison to Dr. Kang. Your scrubs were wrinkled, hands marked with pen stains from taking notes, and you were sure your hair was halfway out of its ponytail.
His gaze met yours. And then, he froze. It was subtle. Anyone else might have missed it. But you were already hyper-aware, already watching for any sign of judgment, of criticism, and instead, you caught something else. A flicker in his composed nature. Something unguarded. His eyes stayed on you longer than necessary, like he’d forgotten, just for a second, what he was about to say.
“You’re the new R1,” he said finally, though it sounded more like he was reminding himself than asking.
You nodded. “Yes.” Another beat passed. You braced yourself for a scolding. But the sharpness you expected never came.
Instead, he gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. “You’ll be observing with me today.” Polite. Even. Not warm, but not cutting, either.
“Yes. Thank you,” you said quickly, relief threading through your voice before you could stop it.
Something in his expression shifted again, just slightly. Softer, maybe. Or curious. “This way,” he said, gesturing down the hall.
You fell into step beside him, careful to stay half a pace behind. Your mind raced, flipping through everything you’d heard, everything you’d prepared for. But as you moved from patient to patient, something didn’t add up.
He was precise and focused. Every question intentional, every movement efficient. But when he spoke to patients, his tone lowered just a fraction. When he corrected you, because of course he did, it wasn’t harsh. Just direct.
“Include the patient timeline next time,” he said once, glancing at your notes. “It provides more context when you submit the final report.”
You blinked, surprised. “Right, okay. I will.”
No bite. No edge. Just simple instructions. And every so often, you caught him looking at you again. Not critically. Not like he was waiting for you to mess up. But like he was trying to understand something he hadn’t expected to find.
By the time you stepped out into the hallway again, your pulse had finally started to settle. That hadn’t been what you expected. At all. “Hey!” your co-resident rushed up almost immediately. “Well? How bad was it?”
You hesitated, glancing back briefly toward where Dr. Kang had disappeared. “He wasn’t,” you admitted slowly. “Bad, I mean.”
“What?” they stared at you. “No way.”
You shook your head, still trying to make sense of it yourself. “He was actually really clear. Strict, yeah, but not…” you trailed off.
“Not terrifying?” someone offered.
You huffed a quiet laugh. “Not like you guys said at all.”
They exchanged skeptical looks. “Give it time,” Daniel muttered. “He will find something to complain about soon.”
Maybe. But as you replayed the afternoon in your head, one thing stood out more than anything else. The way he had looked at you. Like something had started. And you had no idea what it could be.
—
It started subtly, at first, you didn’t even notice the pattern.
“Excuse me, Dr.,” a nurse called one afternoon, catching you just as you were finishing up charting. “Dr. Kang asked if you could assist on rounds.”
You blinked. “Me?”
She nodded like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Room 312.”
You gathered your things quickly, trying not to overthink it. Maybe it was just scheduling. Maybe the other residents were busy. Still, when you stepped into the room and saw him already there, his eyes flicking up almost immediately to find you, it didn’t feel random.
“You’re here,” he said simply. The slightest smile crossed over his face.
You nodded, a little breathless from hurrying. “You asked for me?”
He pauses, hands that were once shuffling through a patient file halt in place. “Mm,” he replied, like it didn’t mean anything more than a simple affirmation. But his eyes never left yours.
—
Then it happened again. And again. Different days. Different patients. Same quiet request: to have you assist during his rounds. At some point, your co-residents started noticing.
“You’re kidding,” Daniel said one afternoon, staring at you like you’d just admitted to something unbelievable. “He asked for you?”
You frowned. “What’s the big deal? He probably just needs help.”
“No,” someone else cut in immediately. “He never asks for specific interns. Normally, we just get assigned.”
“I don’t know,” you shrugged, trying to play it off even as a small warmth crept up your neck, “I’m still R1, I'm probably not as busy as some of you guys.” They didn’t look convinced. You didn’t let yourself think too hard about it either.
—
The first time he handed you coffee, you almost didn’t take it. You had just stepped out of a patient’s room, shoulders tight, mentally running through everything you still needed to finish, when he approached from the end of the hall.
He stopped in front of you, holding out a cup. “For you.”
You blinked, looking from the coffee to his face to see if this was some kind of joke. His face remained neutral. Nervously, you respond, “Oh…no, I’m okay,”
“Take it,” he said, not unkindly. Just firm. He holds the cup out closer to you.
You hesitated a second longer before accepting it. “Thank you, Dr. Kang.”
He held back a small smile, “It’s been a long morning, feel free to take a quick break to drink that,” he added, already turning slightly as if the conversation was over.
You stared down at the cup. He noticed that? Weird. Nice of course. But weird.
—
Lunch happened the same way. A small bag set down beside you while you were buried in notes. You look up to see Dr. Kang above you. He scans you for a moment, “You haven’t eaten yet.” He doesn't ask it as a question, instead an observation.
You set down your pen, startled. “I was going to, after I finish-”
“Eat now,” he said. Again, not harsh. Just certain. He slides the bag closer to you.
You exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking your head. You grab the bag and peek inside, “You’re kind of bossy, you know that?”
There was the faintest pause. “I’m aware.” But something about the way he said it, low, almost amused, made your chest feel oddly light.
You didn’t question it too much. He was your attending doctor. Maybe this was just how he mentored R1’s. Strict, observant, and surprisingly considerate.
—
And then there were the notes. They started appearing tucked between your charts or clipped neatly to your clipboard.
Include differential earlier—shows clinical reasoning.
Good patient interaction. Maintain that.
Double-check medication timing.
Short. Precise. Always in his handwriting. At first, you assumed he left them for everyone. Until you noticed no one else ever seemed to get them.
“You’re getting feedback notes?” your co-resident repeated, incredulous. She peer over, scanning the note. “From him?”
You glanced down at the paper in your hands, then back up. “Is that not normal?”
She shakes their head, clearly in shock. “No, not at all.”
At a loss for words, you can only respond, “Huh.”
You told yourself it didn’t mean anything. That it was just mentorship. That the small things: the coffee, the lunches, the way his eyes softened just slightly when he looked at you, were just coincidences.
And besides, he was kind of cute. In a quiet, composed, slightly intimidating way. But that didn’t have to mean anything either.
—
It was a bad day that finally broke you. The senior resident you’d been assigned to that morning had been unforgiving. Every answer you gave felt wrong. Every attempt to explain yourself was cut off, corrected, or dismissed entirely.
“You need to be faster,” he said sharply at one point. He had asked you to stand out into the hall to scold you. “You’re hesitating too much.”
Ashamed, you wring your hands in front of you. “I just wanted to make sure I had the full—”
“You won’t have time to ‘make sure’ in real cases,” he interrupted. “You either know it or you don’t.”
By the time you were dismissed, your chest felt tight, your thoughts tangled in a frustrating loop of not enough, not fast enough, not good enough. You made it halfway down the hall before the sting behind your eyes became too much. Not here.
You ducked into an empty supply room, shutting the door quickly behind you. Your hands came up to your face, pressing hard against your eyes as you tried to steady your breathing. It was stupid. You’d been through worse. So why did this feel like so much?
A shaky exhale slipped out before you could stop it. You wiped at your face quickly. Once. Twice. “Get it together,” you muttered under your breath. “You’re fine,”
The door opened. You froze. Of course. Of course someone would walk in now. You turned quickly, already scrubbing at your eyes again. “Sorry, I’ll just,”
You stopped. It was him. Dr. Kang stood in the doorway, hand still on the handle, gaze fixed entirely on you. And just like the first day he stilled. Not awkward. Not uncomfortable. Just extremely attentive.
You swallowed, forcing a small, embarrassed laugh. “ Don’t worry. I’m fine. Just a long morning.”
You moved to step past him, hoping he’d let it go. He didn’t. “Stay,” he said quietly. Not an order. Something softer.
You hesitated. “It’s nothing,” you tried again, not quite meeting his eyes this time. “Just messed up a few things.”
A beat of silence. Then the door clicked shut behind him. “You didn’t,” he said.
You frowned slightly, looking up. “You don’t even know what happened.”
“I know how you work,” he replied.
Simple. Certain. It shouldn’t have hit as hard as it did. Your throat tightened again despite your best efforts. He wasn’t pushing, but something about his stare drew the words out. “Dr. Kim scolded me. He said I hesitate too much,” you admitted, voice quieter now. “That I’m too slow.”
Dr. Kang’s expression didn’t change much, but something in his eyes sharpened. “Hesitation,” he said slowly, “is not the same as carelessness.” You blinked. “You take time to think,” he continued. “That is not a weakness. It becomes one only if you let it stop you from acting.”
His tone wasn’t condescending. It wasn’t dismissive. It was steady. Grounding. “You’re still learning,” he added. “Speed comes with repetition. Judgment comes with understanding.” A brief pause. “You are building both.”
The tightness in your chest eased, just slightly. “I just,” you exhaled, shaking your head. “I don’t want to fall behind.”
“You’re not,” he said immediately. No hesitation or doubt. And somehow, that mattered more than anything else he’d said.
You let out a small, shaky laugh, wiping at your face again. “Sorry. This is kind of embarrassing.”
“It’s not,” he said.
Your hands stilled. He stepped a little closer, not enough to crowd you, just enough to be there. Present. “You’re allowed to have difficult days,” he said quietly. “They don’t define your ability as a doctor.”
For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then, almost hesitantly, you smiled. “Thank you,” you said, softer now.
Something in his expression shifted again, that same subtle softness you’d been noticing more and more. “Take a few minutes,” he said, stepping back toward the door. “Then come find me.” You nodded. He paused just before leaving, glancing at you one more time.“And make sure you eat something,” he added.
A small laugh escaped you despite everything. “Yes, Dr. Kang.”
He smiles, “Taehyun.”
“What?” Your head tilts trying to understand.
“Dr. Kang is too formal. You can call me Taehyun.” The door closed behind him. And for the first time that day, you felt like maybe you weren’t failing after all.
Later, when you returned to your station, you found a familiar slip of paper waiting on your clipboard.
You’re doing better than you think.
You stared at it for a long moment. Then carefully folded it, tucking it somewhere safe.
—
It didn’t take long for people to notice. At first, it was just looks: quick glances when your name came up on the schedule beside his. Quiet pauses when a nurse called for you specifically during his rounds. Then it turned into something harder to ignore.
“You’re with Dr. Kang again?” Daniel asked one afternoon, not even trying to hide the disbelief anymore.
You glanced up from your notes. “I guess.”
“That’s not normal,” someone else muttered.
You forced a small shrug. “Maybe I’m just assigned where I’m needed.”
But even as you said it, you could feel the shift in the room. It wasn't a curiosity anymore. It was something harsher.
—
The comments started offhand.
“Must be nice.”
“Some people get all the attention.”
“Wish I had that kind of mentorship.”
They were said with smiles. Light tones. Easy to brush off if you wanted to. So you did. At least at first. But then came the day you walked into rounds and felt it immediately. Tense. Wrong.
The senior resident leading that morning barely acknowledged you beyond a curt nod. When it was your turn to present, he didn’t let you finish a sentence before cutting in. “You’re missing key details.”
Frustrated, you furrow your bow, “I was just getting to—”
“You should’ve started with that.” He nearly shouts back. A few of the others exchanged looks. No one said anything. Your hands tightened slightly around your tablet. “Continue,” he said flatly.
You did. Carefully. Deliberately. He still wasn’t satisfied.
Arms crossed, he lists his complaints, “Too slow.” “Unclear.” “Be concise.”
Each word landed heavier than it should have. By the time rounds ended, your chest felt tight again, like earlier that week in the supply room. Only this time, it wasn’t just frustration. It was total embarrassment.
You made it back to the nurses’ station, setting your things down a little more forcefully than intended. “Rough morning?” someone asked.
You didn’t answer right away. Before you could, someone else spoke up. “Well,” another voice chimed in, just loud enough to carry, “you can’t expect Dr. Kang to hold your hand all the time.”
A few quiet snickers followed. You froze. “That’s not,” you started, but your voice felt thinner than you wanted.
“Relax,” Daniel added, leaning back in his chair. “We’re just saying, don’t get used to special treatment.”
“I’m not getting special treatment,” you said, more firmly now.
“Then why does he only ever ask for you?” someone shot back.
Silence. You didn’t have an answer for that. Not one that didn’t sound exactly like what they were implying. “I just do my work,” you said finally, quieter now.
“Sure,” came the reply, unconvinced.
The heat creeping up your neck wasn’t just embarrassment this time. It was also frustration. Because you knew you worked hard. You knew you earned your place here. But suddenly, it didn’t feel like it mattered.
“You’re wrong.” The voice cut cleanly through the tension. Everything around you stilled. You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. But you did anyway.
Dr. Kang stood a few steps away, expression composed, but his gaze wasn’t neutral this time. It was cold. Focused. Not on you, but on them.
“No one is receiving ‘special treatment,’” he continued, voice even but unmistakably firm. “Assignments are made based on performance and need.”
No one spoke. Almost everyone kept their head down, afraid to look at Dr. Kang in the eye.
Breaking the silence, Daniel shifted uncomfortably. “Dr. Kang, We were just joking—”
“It didn’t sound like a joke.” He was stern. You’d never seen him like this, not even directed at others. “If you have concerns about your training,” he went on, “you can address them with me directly. Not through comments that undermine your colleague.”
The senior resident from earlier avoided his gaze entirely. “Understood,” he muttered.
Dr. Kang’s eyes flicked briefly across the group, making sure the message settled. Then, just as quickly, the tension in his posture eased. “Return to your work,” he said.
And just like that, it was over. People moved again. Quietly. A little more carefully than before.
Daniel cleared his throat. “Hey.” You looked at him. “Sorry,” he said, not quite meeting your eyes. “That was out of line.”
A few others nodded in agreement, murmuring similar apologies.
You hesitated, then gave a small nod. “It’s fine.” It wasn’t entirely. But it was better than nothing. You exhaled slowly, trying to shake off the lingering weight in your chest.
“Dr.” You turned. He was looking at you now. Not sharp or critical. Concern filling his gaze. “Walk with me,” he said.
You fell into step beside him, the hallway quieter now, your thoughts still catching up to what had just happened. “You didn’t have to do that,” you said after a moment.
“Yes, I did.” You glanced at him. He didn’t look at you right away. “They were undermining your work,” he added. “That affects your training.” Professional. Measured. But there was something underneath it. Something just a little more personal than he was letting on.
“I can handle it,” you said, though your voice softened slightly.
“I know,” he replied. That made you pause. “I still won’t ignore it.”
Your chest tightened, just a little. Not in a bad way. He was so caring, and something about that made you nervous. “Thank you,” you said quietly.
He nodded once, like it was nothing. But as you reached the end of the hall, he slowed slightly, glancing at you. “Your presentation this morning,” he said, “was thorough.” You blinked, surprised. “You hesitated,” he added. “But your reasoning was correct.”
The corner of your mouth lifted before you could stop it. “I’ll work on the hesitation.”
“You will,” he said. Not a question. Not a doubt. A quiet certainty.
And as he turned to leave, you realized something had shifted again. Not just in how others saw you. But in how you saw yourself and how you saw Dr. Kang.
—
Back at your station, another note waited on your clipboard.
Clarity improves with confidence. You’re getting there.
You held it for a moment longer than necessary before tucking it away. Carefully. Like the others you’ve slowly begun to collect.
—
The shift dragged longer than it should have. By the time you finally signed off your last note, the hospital had quieted into that late-night stillness, dimmed lights, hushed voices, the steady hum of machines filling in the gaps. Your body ached in that dull, familiar way, exhaustion settling deep in your bones.
You rolled your shoulders as you stepped outside, the cool night air a sharp contrast to the sterile warmth you’d been in all day. Home. That was all you wanted.
You adjusted your bag and started toward the bus stop, already mentally mapping the route, the transfers—
“Dr.” You paused and turned to follow the voice. Of course. Dr. Kang stood a few steps behind you, coat draped neatly over his arm, tie slightly loosened for once. He looked different like this. Less clinical. Still composed, but not as untouchable. “You’re heading home?” he asked.
You nodded. “Yeah.”
A brief pause. His gaze flicked toward the street, then back to you. “I can drive you.”
You blinked. “Oh—no, it’s okay,” you said quickly. “I usually take the bus. It’s not too bad.”
“I know.”
That made you pause. “You know?”
“I’ve seen you leaving a few times,” he said simply. Your heart did a small, confusing flip. “It’s late,” he added. “I’m going in the same direction.”
You hesitated. You should say no. Probably. But your feet didn’t move. Instead, you clear your throat, “Are you sure?” you asked.
“Yes.”
There wasn’t much room to argue with that. “Okay,” you said finally. “Thank you.”
—
The car ride started quiet. Not uncomfortable, just unfamiliar.
You sat in the passenger seat, hands folded loosely in your lap, watching the city pass by in streaks of light. You weren’t used to this version of him. Not outside the hospital. Not without a patient chart or a question to answer.
“You did well today,” he said after a while.
You glanced at him. One hand rested over the top of the steering wheel, the other resting on his thigh. You could feel your face heating up. “Even with everything earlier?”
“Yes.” Simple. Immediate.
You smiled faintly, looking back out the window. “Thanks.”
Silence settled again, but it felt different this time. Like there was something unspoken between you two. You noticed the way his grip on the steering wheel shifted slightly. The way he seemed to start to say something, then stopped.
“Dr. Kang?”
He exhaled quietly. “Remember. You can call me Taehyun.”
Your breath caught, just slightly. “Oh,” you said, a little thrown off. “Okay, Taehyun.” Hearing his name out loud like that felt strange. Too familiar. Too real.
The car slowed as he pulled up near your stop, your usual one. He remembered. Of course he did. He didn’t unlock the doors right away. Instead he turned slightly toward you. And for the first time since you’d met him, he looked uncertain. “I need to tell you something,” he said.
Your chest tightened, unsure at what he could possibly say. “Okay,”
A beat passed. He closes his eyes a second, recentering himself. Then he blurts it out, “I like you.” Just like that. No buildup. No softening. Completely straightforward. Completely him.
Your brain stalled. When the words finally process, “Oh.” Brilliant response.
His gaze stayed on you, steady, but there was something beneath it now. Something more vulnerable than you’d ever seen from him. “I didn’t intend for it to happen,” he continued, quieter now. “It’s not appropriate. Given the setting. Your position.” Your heart started beating faster. “But it hasn’t changed anything about how I evaluate your work,” he added quickly. “Or your training. I’ve been careful about that.”
“I know,” you said, the words coming out softer than you expected. Because you did. He had always remained professional despite the helpful notes and the lunches.
He swallowed slightly, jaw tightening just a fraction. “I find myself looking for you during the day. Noticing when you’re not there.” A small pause. “Wanting to make sure you’ve eaten. That you’re not overwhelmed.” Your chest squeezed. “I respect your judgment,” he went on. “Your attention to detail. The way you think through cases.” His voice dipped slightly. “The way you care.” You stared at him. This was not the cold, untouchable attending everyone warned you about. “I’ve tried to ignore it,” he admitted. “But I can’t anymore.”
Silence. Your thoughts scrambled, trying to catch up. “You like me,” you repeated, a little breathless.
“Yes.”
Another pause. Not wanting the silence to grow, you respond, “Oh.”
He huffed the faintest breath of something that almost sounded like a quiet laugh. “You’ve said that twice.”
“I know,” you said quickly, pressing your lips together. “I just, this is unexpected.”
“That’s fair.”
You ran a hand lightly over your face, trying to process. “I mean, this is kind of,” you gestured vaguely between the two of you, “complicated.”
“Yes.” He nods.
“At work—”
“It would remain professional,” he said immediately. “No one would know unless you wanted them to.”
You looked at him again. “You’ve thought about this,” you said.
“I had to.” Of course he did.
That made something in your chest soften. “And if I said no?” you asked quietly.
His expression didn’t falter. “Then nothing changes,” he said. “Your training continues exactly as it has. I don’t make this your burden.”
Your throat tightened. God. Why was that kind of reassuring? You exhaled slowly, looking down at your hands. Because the truth was, you didn’t hate the idea. Not at all. You thought about the coffee. The lunches. The notes. The way he stood up for you. The way he saw you.
“I don’t know,” you admitted.
He gives you a rare smile, “That’s okay.”
“I need to think about it.”
“You should.”
You let out a small breath, then glanced back at him, a hint of a smile tugging at your lips. “You’re not as cold as everyone says.”
Something flickered in his expression. “I’m aware,” he said quietly. “Just not with you.”
Your heart did that thing again, a backflip in your chest. “That’s a little unfair,” you murmured.
“Probably.” Silence scratches between you. Then, his voice softens, “Will you think about it?”
You nodded. “Yeah. Yes.”
This time, when he unlocked the doors, you didn’t move right away. Just one second longer to sit with him. Before stepping out.
“Goodnight…Taehyun.”
He watched you carefully. A smirk growing on his face. “Goodnight.”
You closed the door, starting toward your place, but your thoughts were anything but settled. Because somewhere between the hospital halls and this quiet street things had changed. And you weren’t sure you wanted them to go back.
—
A few days had passed since Taehyun drove you home. It hadn't been awkward or distant. Things just felt careful between you two.
Nothing about your dynamic at work had changed on the surface. He was still composed, still precise, still the same attending everyone else knew. And you, still the R1 trying to keep up, still learning, still growing.
But underneath it there was something waiting. Unspoken tension. Every glance lingered a second longer. Every quiet moment felt like it carried more weight than before.
And you had been thinking. A lot. By the time your break finally rolled around that afternoon, you had already made up your mind.
You just needed to say it. You stopped by the café first. It felt strangely nerve-wracking, ordering something you’d seen him get a dozen times before. It’s just coffee, you told yourself. Still, your fingers tightened slightly around the cup as you made your way back through the halls.
You found him where you expected, at the workstation, reviewing something on the screen, posture as focused as ever.
For a second, you hesitated. It was now or never, “Taehyun.”
He looked up immediately. And just like always, there it was. That subtle shift. That quiet attention reserved only for you.
You held out the cup. “I figured it was your turn,” you said, trying, and only half succeeding, to sound casual.
He blinked. Actually blinked. A surprised look on his face. “You got this for me?”
You nodded. “Yeah.”
He pauses. Then he reached out, taking it from you carefully, like it mattered more than it should. “Thank you,” he said, softer than usual.
You smiled a little. “You’re welcome.”
A beat passed. “Are you on break?” you asked.
Taehyun shuffles some of the paperwork he had been reviewing aside, “Yes.”
“Come with me?” you motion your head to the side, hoping he could read between the lines.
There was no hesitation this time. “Okay.”
—
The outside seating area was quiet. Tucked away just enough from the main flow of the hospital, it felt like a different world. Sunlight filtering through, a light breeze cutting through the usual sterile air.
You sat across from each other at one of the small tables, cups resting between you. For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then you let out a small breath, glancing down at your drink before looking back up at him. “I’ve been thinking,” you started.
His posture shifted, subtle, but attentive. “So have I.”
You huffed a quiet laugh. “Yeah, I figured.” Another small pause. You could see the silence eating away at him. “I’m interested.” The words came out easier than you expected.
His expression stilled, not cold, not unreadable. Just focused entirely on you. “You are?” he asked, like he needed to hear it again.
You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah.”
Something in him softened, not outwardly dramatic, but enough that you felt it. A quiet exhale left him, like tension he hadn’t realized he was holding finally gave way. “I meant what I said,” he replied. “About keeping things professional. About not letting it affect your training.”
“I know,” you said. “That’s kind of why I,” you shrugged lightly, “why I’m okay with this.” A flicker of something warmer passed through his eyes. “And,” you added, a little more playfully now, “I knew you weren’t as cold as everyone says.”
His brow lifted slightly. “Is that so?”
You leaned back just a little, smiling. “Mm. I mean, you bring me coffee, make sure I eat, leave me notes,” you tilted your head, teasing, “pretty sure that qualifies as sweet.”
A brief silence. Then, almost under his breath, “That’s only with you.”
Your heart skipped. You tried to play it off, but your smile softened anyway. “Yeah, I figured.”
—
The walk back inside felt lighter. Not easier, because there was still risk, still something delicate about what you’d just agreed to but it felt right. Like something had settled into place. You walked side by side, not quite touching, but close enough that you were aware of him in a way you hadn’t been before.
At the end of the hallway, near a quieter, unused corridor, your steps slowed. So did his. You weren’t sure who stopped first, just that you both did.
The space felt still. Private. You looked up at him.
He was already looking at you. Not like before. Not like Dr. Kang, an attending assessing a resident. But as Taehyun. “You’re sure?” he asked quietly.
You nodded. “I am.” A small pause. Then, quietly you ask “You?”
His answer didn’t come in words. He stepped closer. In the privacy of the hall he pulls you close to him, pausing before allowing his hands to snake around your waist. Your breath caught slightly as the distance closed, your heart beating just a little too fast for how still everything else felt.
Slowly and tenderly he leans in and kisses you. His lips start gently, his soft side fully on display. A side that no one else knows. Your hand instinctively curled slightly against his coat, grounding yourself in the moment as you leaned in just a fraction more. It wasn’t rushed. It was soft and sweet. When he pulled back, it was slow, like he didn’t want to break it too quickly. For a second, neither of you moved.
Then you let out a soft breath, a small, almost disbelieving smile forming. “Okay,” you murmured.
Something in his expression shifted, relief, maybe. Or something deeper. “Okay,” he echoed.
Footsteps echoed faintly from down the hall. Reality creeping back in. You both stepped back, not abruptly, just enough to maintain professional distance. But the air between you had changed completely.
You glanced at him once more, a quiet smile lingering. “Back to work, Dr. Kang?”
A hint of something almost amused flickered in his eyes. “Yes,” he said. Then, just a little softer, a voice just for you, “I’ll see you later.”
Your heart is full in your chest. “Yes, later.”
Uh oh! You have reached your time limit dating Taehyun. You may now return home or choose another boy!
summary : Yeonjun wants you so desperately for some reason, even though you’ve rejected him already.
genre : loverboy!yeonjun x manhater(?) reader
warnings : kissing & cursing, I think that’s all:>>
a/n : I almost published smut out of this, but I replaced the scenes last second because I was too ashamed. Dude, bye
Choi Yeonjun knows it full well how difficult it is to light up a spot for himself inside your heart. After your last break up, you kept rejecting everyone right then and there — because you swore that if things went wrong with the same guy again for the fourth time, you’re never loving someone again.
Well, you did try to love other guys after the first and second; in the end? You led one on by accident because you were confused by whether you loved him or not, and the other treats you like absolutely bullshit. Since then, you sometimes break down by how guilty and hurt you feel — you wish you could just go back in time and punch your ex carelessly.
Anyways, today is going on as usual — you get ready to step onto the hell of a campus, go to your classes; except, you have a school assembly early in the morning because of some couple getting caught fucking behind the old building.
You sat on the floor beside your friend, and of course — Yeonjun chose to sit behind you, even though you’re in completely different class numbers. He taps on your shoulder lightly, whispering to you, “psst, Y/n!”
“Dude, what the fuck do you want?” You whisper back in frustration, turning your head to him. When you finally look at him, he hands you a box of chocolates. He pucks his lips, pouting at you cutely. You can’t lie to yourself, he may be annoying as hell, but he is attractive and makes your heart flutter sometimes — but you already rejected him, yet, he doesn’t take the hint. At all.
Well, he does know it already that you don’t like him back — he doesn’t want to give up though, and he never will. He’s the son of the most famous stylist in your country, rich and most of all; a model.
No one ever understood why he was going for someone as you. But that’s exactly the type he’s going for; someone that he can put his entire effort into and still being rejected despite his status.
He loves you because he knows that his sweet, small gestures makes your heart flutter and not the fact that he’s so perfect for a man in this time and age. Well, anyways… you furrow your eyebrows and take the box of chocolates shyly, giving him a glance before you spoke up. “Wh-... Why are you giving me these? It’s not Valentine’s day.” You spoke, slightly stuttering as your ears burned up a bit.
“Because I appreciate the way that you look so effortlessly beautiful every time that I look at you. It’s like I’m looking at a performer, so I decide to give something in return for the amazing result.” He replied.
“The-... The fuck? You’re spouting nonsense again.” You turn your back to him again, ignoring your classmates teasing you for the interaction. Yeonjun smiles at you sweetly, admiring your shyness.
As the school head gave his, “lecturing speech” to the students — you opened the box of chocolates, your mind rushing back to the time when Yeonjun fought with his bestfriend over you; Choi Soobin. Soobin had never been the type to fight back, especially to Yeonjun — that’s why he always clings to him, because he’s the cowardice type.
He grew up with the other side, so he can’t let go of their friendship that easily — because he wants to be that understanding friend that Yeonjun treats him in the same way. So, he came up with one resolution; to distance himself and not cause any more conflict between the two of them due to how badly everything turned out when they realized that they liked the same girl, which is obviously, you.
Just when your mind starts to linger more, the school head suddenly calls out, “Who is that student eating in the middle of an assembly? Does this look like lunch to you?” You flinch, freezing in embarrassment. Your friend taps you gently on the head, “not you, Y/n. That one guy from the other side’s fourth row.” He giggles.
The day eventually proceeds with Yeonjun pestering you as usual; he follows you around, acting like an unannounced boyfriend.
“What are you doing after class, Y/n? Wanna fuck?” He suggests casually, like it’s something normal to ask someone you’re not even dating, observing his nails meanwhile you — spit out your drink in shock. “Have you gone mad?” You softly yell, looking around the cafeteria to see if anyone heard. “I was joking, calm down.”
Yeonjun cracks up, laughing so similarly to his friend, Kai. “Look at me,” He spoke in that casual tone again and grabs your chin to move your gaze back towards him, “Let’s go out tomorrow, I’ll bring you to that one restaurant my father held a company dinner in.” You scoff and call his bluff, then swatted his hand away with a smirk. “Is this your way of asking me to a date or are you are just deliberately showing off your father’s corporate perks?”
“Both, maybe — I don’t know. Anyways... Yes or yes?” He leans closer and rests his crossed arms on the table, turning his head slightly as he met your gaze. You smile at him slightly and blink a few times before answering, “Yeah, sure. Whatever.” You poke his cheeks and grab them to tease him, scrunching your nose, “Ow, fuck! That hurts.” Yeonjun retorts in pain and makes you laugh.
You then stand up, “Let’s go now to our next class!” You grab his wrist and held it up high, he pulls away immediately. Just as you were about to call him out, he goes for your hand and holds it. Your cheeks flush a faint pink, looking away with a smile on your face and eyebrows furrowed. Your smile then drops when you remember your promise to yourself; don’t fall in love again. You pull out your poker face immediately, acting unfazed — you give his hand a platonic squeeze over a romantic one.
Today marks the day of your date with Yeonjun. You decided to wear a casual shirt with some jeans because that’s really all what you have inside your wardrobe as of now. When Yeonjun arrives at the function to pick you up, his outfit is nearly the same — just looking a bit more richer with some jersey shirt worn over his white shirt compared to yours for some reason.
You scoff at the gentleman before you, looking up at him up and down with a smirk on your face. “You look good, I guess...” You complimented him and lifted an eyebrow, then crossed your arms. Yeonjun smiles at you confidently and adjusts his shirt while staring at you directly to show off, “Let’s go, pretty.” He then said.
At the restaurant, you both eagerly waited at your table for food — “It doesn’t take this long, usually.” Yeonjun commented on the situation. You’ve been drinking water repeatedly out of impatience, it has been 23 minutes, to be exact. You can feel your bladder about to explode. “Uh, yeah... Yeonjun, I’ll go use the restroom real quick.” You excused yourself, he stares at you as you marched towards the women’s restroom — holding back his laughter. He did tell you not to drink too much water, after all.
When you finished and walked out of the restroom, you notice a familiar, tall figure — Soobin. Out of camaraderie, you tap him on the back, “Soobin!” you excitedly called out to him. He turns his attention to you right away. As soon as he does, you pull him in for a friendly embrace — making him hug you back. “Where have you been? It’s been three months.” you questioned him. “I study at home,” He replied, “I decided to only attend school during examinations.” He continued.
As you drifted through the conversation, Yeonjun watched from afar — your food set on the table. When you came back from the conversation, Yeonjun ate silently; almost ignoring your presence completely.
“I might have to leave early today, want me to drive you home?” Yeonjun suggested and broke the silence between you that he himself made, despite the stinging feeling piercing through his heart out of jealousy. “Yeah,” you answered.
Back inside the car, he sighed before asking. “Who were you with earlier in the restroom?” he continues your earlier conversation through a question, his tone casual and calm — hiding his emotions perfectly. “Ah, no one.” you attempted to lie, because you knew how things may turn out again.
The silence inside the car is heavy, thickening with each word Yeonjun is holding himself back from saying.
“No one,” he repeats, his tone soft yet firm at the same time like an official trying to stay calm. His grip on the steering wheel tightens as his eyes fixated on the road. The way he’s so calm is more unsettling than a yell.
He finally pulls up to the curb in front of your house, proceeding to shift his gaze — his expression is unreadable, yet his eyes are searching yours, almost as if looking for the honesty he knows is missing.
“That’s a long time to spend speaking with ‘no one’, Y/n,” he suspected. “Especially when they look tall enough to be spotted from the entire cafeteria.”
“I saw you talking to Soobin. Why would you hide that from me? I’m not trying to argue with you, y’know,” He clicks his tongue. “We’re not together, I know that — but that’s my friend I fought with over you.”
“Fuck, fine, I did talk to him. But I was not sneaking around at all — hop off it, dude.” you answer in frustration, yet with a hint of guilt lingering in your tone. “You hugged him, you refuse to do that with me,” he points out calmly at first.
“How will I fucking hop off of that so easily when you can’t do that with me at all, the one that’s been around you more this entire time?” He breaks. “Because with him, it’s simple!” You snap back, the guilt finally sharpening into a defense mechanism. “There’s no fucking history of fistfights and 'unreadable' stares with him. I hugged him because he looked like he was losing his best friend.” You continued your words with hesitancy. “With him, a hug is just a hug. With you, I’m scared that if I touch you, I won’t be able to pretend that we’re not together anymore. I’m not hiding him from you, I’m hiding US from myself. It’s absolutely stupid because I’m doing all this too in order not to fall in love again, especially with fuckboys like you.”
“Oh, really?” Yeonjun questions your words with a smirk on his face, almost not believing you. “So you do like me? It’s just that you’re in denial?” He spoke, his tone showing a small hint of sarcasm. “Fuck it, yes!” You answered with frustration showing on your entire face.
“You’re an asshole sometimes.”
“What—?” Before you can even process those four words, he pushes you down and pins your wrists above your head, leaving you completely fazed and frozen in place.
He starts to give you sloppy kisses on your neck, he forgets all about giving you time to think, the kisses he’s pressing on your neck wet, affectionate, and erotic all at the same time, driven by an urgency that borders to be feverish.
You don’t fight back at all and instead of pushing him away — you act on the instinct your brain has yet to approve, breaking your wrists free only to pull him away from your neck to kiss him on the mouth.
“You’re unpredictable as shit.” you pull away for a second to comment on his behaviour. “Outta the blue, I know... But, so are you.” he answers with a lopsided smirk tugging on his lips.
He crashes back in immediately and kisses you back with renewed eagerness, the car filled with soft whimpers and wet sounds of your lips crashing against one another.
The collision is messy and intense, giving the two barely any time to catch your breath. Every time that you think he’s slowing down, he shifts his weight, deepening the pressure until your head is spinning.
For four agonizingly, high-voltage minutes, the rest of the world ceases to exist for the both of you — despite the fact that the car is so obviously shaking. He then finally pulls away from you — resting his forehead on yours before giving you a small kiss on the cheek then smiling down at you.
“Damn,” He commented, “You’re messy, y’know?” He laughs at you teasingly.