#edit: this marks the start of me going on the right path :] | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cherriegyuu · 1 year ago

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high for this | csc/kmg

pairing: seungcheol x f!reader x mingyu genre: smut word count: 4.3k warnings: minors do not interact, threesome, dirty talking, swearing, petnames, oral, multiple orgasm, forced orgasm, unprotected sex (don't do this), boob play, kind of intense, little bit of degradation, anal (?) a/n: this happened... i blame @ressonancee, she made me do it, also thank u to @ssinboo too for helping me, both of you 💕 this is my last fic of the year, so why not make it the wildest thing i've ever written? lower case was intencional. read it through once, probably needs a lot of editing

"is there anything you want to try?"

you looked up from your toenails to find your boyfriend's strong gaze on you. it was a sunday night much like any other sunday, you were watching a movie together while you painted your nails. much to your dislike, that week you had an appointment with a nail stylist but she had to cancel last minute so it was up to you to do your own nails. you liked doing it by yourself, but only your hands.

"hm" you looked at the bright numbers on your phone. it was just past eight, around time for dinner "i feel like pizza, you?"

seungcheol nodded and reached for his phone, texting the place you usually ordered from, mindlessly typing away on his phone.

"that was not really the question though," he said looking at you "i asked if there's anything you'd like to try"

you cocked your head to the side, not sure what he meant but since you were talking about food just a second before, you figured that it was still the topic. the movie too was about a waitress turned chef, so it seemed like a natural path of conversation.

"i don't know, all the places i want to try don't deliver and i don't feel like going out" you murmured.

your boyfriend laughed, his hand tracing random circles around your ankle.

"in sex, babe. something you want to try while we have sex"

if life was like a cartoon or an animation, you were certain that there was probably going to be a question mark over your head. you thought that there was nothing wrong with your sex life, if anything it was great.

thorughout the three and a half years you and seungcheol had been together, sex had never been boring or dull. if anything it was always exciting. you had always been eager to try different things and fulfill most, if not all, of each other's fantasies.

so his question, though not really surprising, was somewhat unexpected.

"not that i can think of right now, why?"

he chuckled, turning his eyes back to his phone, and quickly typing your order. he didn't need to ask what kind of pizza you wanted, it was always the same order. you were sure that when the workers saw his name they didn't need to read the order in full.

"because i think there’s something you've always wanted to try and never told me"

you started to shake your head but stopped midway, narrowing your eyes at him.

"how do you know?"

he turned around, now completely facing you on the bed, and pulled your feet up on his leg. many times before seungcheol had painted your nails for you, the reasons usually varied a lot, but you knew that this time he was trying to get you to confess to him.

he would have to work a little harder for that.

"baby, i know what ticks you. you can try to hide it all you want, but in the end, you're not the innocent girl everyone thinks you are"

you bit your lip, thinking just how far you could talk. there was only one fantasy that you were yet to complete and though he was your boyfriend and judgment from him was usually very low, if it even happened at all, you weren't sure if the one you kept a secret was one he would like to hear, much less make it happen for you.

the truth was that seungcheol was more on the jealous side of the spectrum of the boyfriends you had in your life. he was, undoubtedly, number one on that list. so, perhaps, telling him that you would like to partake in a threesome would not be the best idea.

"i don't know if i should tell you about it"

seungcheol's eyes were focused on the brush running over your nail but you didn't miss the way he ran his tongue over his inner cheek.

"if you don't say it out loud, i'm not going to make it happen"

you analyzed him for a second, narrowed eyes at the way he looked so nonchalant about it. he looked too calm with the idea. familiar with the thought already.

"you've done it before!" you said, mouth agape, sort of laughing, shaking his arm "when? with who? you and two girls, or you, a guy and a girl? oh, oh oh! you and other two guys?"

of course that was it. of course, that was why he was so chill about it.

"i'm going to mess up your nails," he said without raising his eyes, a hint of entertainment in his voice.

"who cares about my nails? i want the stories"

seungcheol said that he knew what made you tick but you also knew how to get him to do the things you wanted. you patted his hands away from your feet and climbed on his lap, making sure to stretch your legs behind him so you wouldn't mess up your nails, which would make seungcheol pout like a child.

"tell me," you asked, in your sweetest voice, poking at his dimples that decided to make an appearance.

he set his hands around your waist, a grin on his face when he pushed his hand under your shirt - his shirt actually - so he could touch your skin.

"me, a guy and a girl"

you sighed and kissed him. the image of him, you and someone else crept up in your mind again, and slouched over him again.

"i'll let you pick whoever you..."

"mingyu" you said even before he could finish his sentence.

he pinched your waist, pouting.

"you could at least pretend to think about it"

you had thought about it, more times than you were willing to admit. out of all the people you knew, mingyu was the only one who ever crossed your mind.

"i'll make it happen"

you sat in the middle of the bed, expectantly looking from seungcheol, who stood close to door, to mingyu, who anxiously shifted his weight from a foot the other on side of the room.

after seungcheol said that he was going to make it happen, he never mentioned the situation again. and although it had been fun to tease him that day, you didn't want to push your luck with him.

it took him a couple of weeks to say anything at all and then he suddenly just said "mingyu will come by tomorrow"

no dinner, no wine, beer, or talk. it was just an announcement and then the three of you were in the same room, expectantly looking at each other.

"you should kiss her, get her in the mood," seungcheol said to mingyu "this was something she wanted to try, but i think she got a little shy now that you're here"

mingyu adverted his eyes from seungcheol and finally set them on you again, trying to make sure that it was really okay to touch you. when all you did was blink at him, he hesitated.

"do you actually want this?" he asked, looking over at seungcheol who smiled while leaning against the door, arms crossed over his chest.

your silence didn't come from cold feet or suddenly having second thoughts, it was more because you felt hot all over. neither of them had even touched you yet but just the fact that both of them were in the same room with you and you knew what was about to happen. your mind had sort of stopped functioning the moment you saw mingyu walk in, trailing behind seungcheol.

"dude, maybe some other time," he said to seungcheol "i don't think she wants this"

"no," you said finding your voice again, suddenly gripping his large hand "i want this, i'm just a little nervous"

mingyu didn't need to be told twice. he had gotten a green light from you and that was all he needed to move. he started with your shoulder. he placed a light kiss on your skin, brushing away your hair and the strap of your nightgown.

you never thought that seungchel would agree to something like that and that was why you never told him about it. being with two men was one of your fantasies and while your boyfriend had worked hard to meet all of them, you were certain that there was one he would never say yes to. and yet, somehow, there you were, in the middle of your bedroom with the two hottest men you had ever laid eyes on.

the promise of what was about to happen was more than enough to get you started.

mingyu trailed kisses up your neck. the contrast between the delicate caress of his lips and the roughness of his hands was enough to make your legs shake a little. finally, his lips touched yours. tentatively at first, mimicking the silky touch of just a second before. when you responded to his actions, hand gripping his forearms, mingyu deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing past your lips, demanding control.

whenever you imagined yourself in such a position, the third person never had a face. it was only you and seungcheol and someone else, a faceless man. but the second you met mingyu, months before, he became the faceless man in your fantasies. just how many times had you imagined yourself in between the two men, falling apart in their arms?

countless had been the nights you woke up needy, after yet another dream, turning to seungcheol desperate, begging for more and more.

just as mingyu slightly pulled back you felt seungcheol behind you, his hand on your upper thigh, dragging the fabric of your gown up. he made a pleased sound on the back of his throat when he didn't feel the usual band of underwear. you thought that there was no point in wearing one.

“i'm going to blindfold you now” seungcheol whispered, lightly nibbling at your earlobe.

you moaned when you felt the lace being placed over your eyes at the same time mingyu kissed your chest, his thumb running over your nipple.

seungcheol wrapped his arm around you and pulled your back flush against him, his lips sucking your skin as mingyu left airy kisses over your chest.

you had completely forfeited control at that point, even if maybe it was a little early for that. the lace covering your eyes only gave you small glimpses of the man in front of you, of his chest still covered in the white t-shirt he had on when he arrived, his tanned skin. but even if you were able to see a little, there was still so much that you didn't and that made every touch feel hotter, needier, more demanding.

you felt seungcheol taking a couple of steps back, until both of you were seated on the middle bed.

"why the blindfold?" you asked.

seungcheol pulled your weight over him, his hands pushing your gown down at the same time mingyu pushed it up, leaving all the fabric pooling around your waist.

"because you like it, because i want you to enjoy this to the fullest" his voice was low, rough, and each word that left his lips sent waves through your body, straight to your core "so enjoy it while he eats you out and then fucks you, there won't be a second chance. i won't share you again"

one of the reasons you even said yes in the first place to the idea was because mingyu was leaving town soon. he got a job in another city and it required him to move. so when seungcheol brought up you fantasy and teased you with it, agreeing and choosing mingyu had been easy. you wouldn't have to see him again any time soon, so there was no chance of you being embarrassed in front of him. by the time you saw him again, the things you allowed both of them to do to you would be a distant memory.

"when do you fuck me?"

that was the whole point of the night, you thought, having both of them at the same, but in seungcheol's little speech, there was no mention of him.

his chest vibrated with laughter, chuckling.

"i will, baby, don't worry"

seungcheol snaked his arm around you waist, his fingers sliding over you until he reached your thighs. your boyfriend pushed your leg to the side, while mingyu did the exact same thing, leaving you in complete display for him.

"if you don't like something," seungcheol said, his breath tingling your skin "if you want to stop, whatever it is. just say it, and we'll stop"

you could see it perfectly in your mind, mingyu kneeling on the floor, kissing you while looking up to see your reaction. one thing about having one of your senses taken away was the fact that everything felt magnified. so the touches weren't simple touches anymore. actions that normally would have only made you excited about the situation, suddenly made you horny.

there was no need to touch yourself to know that you were already wet and you had only started. your muscles started to tense up in anticipation of what was to come.

no imagination or dream could have prepared you for the reality that was mingyu. instead of playing with you a little more, something that he would definitely enjoy doing, mingyu placed three small breathy kisses on your pelvis before his lips finally found your center.

his tongue was one of a man who knew what he was doing.

it started with a tickle, a flutter of a touch and then it was all too consuming.

you moaned when he wrapped his arms around your legs and pulled you closer to him. the sounds were all loud, wet, and dirty, and somehow you felt hotter with each passing second.

"more" you begged.

he flicked your clit once, then twice, before pulling it into his mouth, sucking hard like it was a goddamned lollipop. he kept going until you became a begging mess in front of him, your hand found its way to his hair and pressed him harder over you.

seungcheol let out a hum of approval from behind you, finally placing his hands on you. he pinched your nipples, tugging at them harshly only increasing your pleasure, all the while mingyu blew and lightly bit on your clit.

it felt like being worshiped by the two men. two sets of hands all over your body whose only purpose was to pleasure you.

mingyu slid a finger inside of you, without warning, making you arch and seungcheol tighten his grip around your waist.

"she's so loud," mingyu said, pleased.

seungcheol laughed again, kissing your neck. he wrapped his hand around your neck, forcing your head back. your moan was swallowed by his hungry lips.

"add another finger, she'll get even louder"

you felt mingyu’s devilish smile, before he did exactly what seungcheol said. the stretch was simply perfect. he curled his fingers just the right way, pushing them all the way in before almost pulling out, while his tongue paid full attention to your clit. there was no stopping the moans that escaped your lips, loud and needy. the combination of mingyu's agile tongue and seungcheol’s skilled hands was enough to drive you crazy.

“it’s okay baby,” seungcheol whispered, pinching your nipples relentlessly “you can cum on his fingers”

his words were enough to drive you over the edge. your grip on mingyu’s hair tightened, your free hand searching for seungcheol’s thigh. mingyu held you closer when your head started to spin, your legs shaking, licking you as if you were an ice cream he couldn’t get enough of. he flattened his tongue, licking you in one big motion, his fingers moving faster. all of it almost too much but you catch yourself begging:

“ah… don’t stop… please”

you were arching, pleading, demanding and you didn’t care. never before had you felt like that and you knew it was only the beginning.

suddenly mingyu’s hands and lips were gone, but just for a second. he crawled over your body. you touched the lace covering your eyes, wanting to push it away, needing to see both men, but your boyfriend stopped you, pushing your hands away.

“the fold stays on” he said and suddenly his voice became a distant sound, muffled by the weight of mingyu over you, his lips demanding your attention.

you could taste your release on him, and you couldn’t help but moan a little at the feel of his naked chest over yours. somewhere along the way he had taken his shirt off. the bulge in his sweats giving you the tiniest bit of friction but not nearly enough.

you wanted to see seungcheol's face, wanted to study and memorize every tiny expression on his face. wanted to see if his eyes darkened like they usually did when he was aroused, if the moment was also pleasurable for him, or if he was doing all of it because it was something you wanted.

“but i want to see you”

seungcheol was a hands-on kind of boyfriend, not in a suffocating kind of way, but in a way that made you feel cherished. his hands were always on you. if you were both in the same room there was no way he was going to stay away.

one of your friends decided to have her bachelorette in the same club her fiancé was having his bachelor's party, to which seungcheol had been invited to. though the night started as expected, somewhere around 2 am you found your boyfriend sitting by your side when you had gotten too tired to keep dancing with the other girls.

if he was driving, his hand was on your leg or holding onto yours; if you were walking down the street, his arm was around your shoulders. he was always all over you.

“get on your knees,” he said.

there was no need for you to make a single movement when mingyu turned you around and dropped you on the bed like you were some kind of ragged doll. laughing might not have been the best reaction but it was the only one you had to give.

“you wanna her first?” mingyu asked.

“you can have her”

something about the way they talked, as if you had no say and were there only for their entertainment, turned on you even further.

the sound of plastic being torn was the only one in the room, as well as your small pants, while you still tried to catch your breath. you desperately wanted to remove the blindfold. for whatever reason, you enjoyed the sight of a man rolling up a condom. maybe you liked that it helped build anticipation or maybe you just liked knowing what was in store for you.

even so, you put your ass as high up as you possibly could, your knees apart.

“i guess she's excited” mingyu said, his tone cocky as he ran his hand over your ass “nice and slow, or hard and fast?”

mingyu pressed the tip of his fingers to your cunt, moving them up and down a couple of times, getting his fingers wet, and then running them over his dick. not that he needed it, he knew that he could just slide in without effort, but he enjoyed seeing you tremble on fingers one more time.

he aligned his tip with your entrance, rubbing himself on you a couple of times but stilled a second later, waiting for your answer.

"in, would be great"

he laughed, slowly pushing inside. you were a little sensitive but that only heightened the feeling. your breath hitched as he finally sank into you. you held onto the sheets, hands balled into fists, squirming, urging him to just fucking move. he wasn't as thick as seungcheol but he was long, touching you somewhere that you were yet to be touched by anyone before.

suddenly you felt seungcheol's cock against your lips, his thumb forcing them open. he thrust himself in, hitting the back of your throat just as mingyu started to move.

their paces were completely different, while mingyu pushed in long, sensual strokes, seungcheol forced his hips harshly, holding your head in place until you squeezed his waist. despite being different, they somehow felt complementary to each other.

an unfamiliar sound left your lips, a weird mix of a moan and a gasp for air. your boyfriend wrapped your hair in his hand, pulling on it, forcing your head back. it should have been painful but it only made you clench around mingyu's cock.

"look at you" seungcheol chuckled a little, his fingers running across your face, further turning you into a mess of tears and spit "taking two cocks at the same time"

you moaned when he pushed himself into your mouth again, at the same time mingyu started to move faster, his index fingers circling your hole.

"wouldn't you just love it if he pushed his finger in a little" seungcheol taunted "all holes filled like a good little slut"

you cried, needing more of everything.

the entire situation was degrading, from your actions to his words, but you were beyond caring. all of it was just beyond anything you could have ever imagined. every sort of contact you had with a threesome before, from hearing your friends talk about it, reading it, watching it, imagining it, was nothing compared to the reality.

"oh she loves to be called a slut" mingyu grunted "she's milking me, man, i'm not gonna last much longer"

mingyu's thrusts became frantic, almost sloppy and he lost his constant tempo.

"in my mouth" you pulled away from seungcheol long enough to say.

to hell with seungcheol’s rules and blindfold. you turned around, whimpering at the emptiness, pulling the blindfold from your eyes and tossing it aside.

mingyu stood at the edge of the bed, one foot propped on the mattress. his large hand stocking his cock, a grin on his face while you crawled towards him. his dick right in front of your face, long, veins high, a thick layer of your juices coated him. you moaned as you pulled the condom away before you took him in your mouth.

you knew what pulling away from seungcheol would cause, in fact you were hoping for it. so when you felt his hands roughly grab your hips, you smiled. the scream that left you when he slammed into you wasn't of pain, but of pure pleasure. he moved hard and fast, leaving you no room to breathe. you cried, your nails digging into mingyu's flesh as seungcheol mercilessly fucked you. your boyfriend grunted with every thrust.

you felt mingyu’s dick twitch in your mouth, scraping him with your teeth, making him hiss.

“i’m gonna cum in you sweet little mouth, sweetheart” he said, grabbing the hair at your scalp, forcing himself all the way in, holding himself in place, until he found his release.

slowly he rocked his hips, his hot cum running down your throat. you sucked him dry, not a single drop left behind.

you felt a second wave of pleasure consume you and the entire world seemed like it was crashing down around you when seungcheol inserted his index inside your only empty hole, a second later his middle finger too.

“yes, cheol, fuck”

your entire body contracted, shaking in absolute, delirious, pleasure. it went through your entire body in waves, from your head to your toes.

seungcheol kept going, moving into your sensitive slit restlessly. you cried out again, feeling your orgasm build once more when you felt him fill you with his warm cum.

“that's my perfect cum slut, filled to the brim” cheol praised you

you allowed your limp body to fall on the mattress, face down, completely exhausted but feeling pleased in a way you had never before.

but seungcheol wasn't done with you, not yet anyway. he turned you around, his hand immediately found your clit, rubbing it slowly in circles, in a way that he knew drove you crazy.

“no” you said

you tried to close your legs, holding his hand still. you were too sensitive, your body entirely too tired to keep going. seungcheol got on top of you, using his knees to keep your thighs apart.

“remember what you promised, baby?” he whispered, kissing your cheek tenderly, “you said that you would cum for me the same you came for him”

you shook your head, small tears forming on the corners of your eyes. yes, you had promised, but you couldn’t follow through with it

“i can't, it's too much”

“you can, baby” he pressed harder against your clit, adding two fingers inside of you, curling them just the right way “give me one more. just one more”

your body tensed up once again, eyes rolling to the back of your head. his words were the last straw, enough to drive you once again to the edge. a scream rippled through you, your hips bulking up from the bed hard enough that seungcheol had to hold you in place.

you struggled to breathe again, your lungs doing a terrible job at what they were supposed to do. the situation became a little worse when seungcheol dropped his entire weight over you, pulling his digits out of you. he too breathed heavily. you ran your hand over his hair, caressing it while you slowly came back to your senses.

"you okay?" he pushed back to look at you, pushing your hair away from your face "was it too much?"

you shook your head, smiling at him. you couldn't talk yet, body still shaking a little, sensitive all over. you were certain that you looked like a complete mess, you could feel your entire body sticky with sweat.

seungcheol kissed your cheek again, pulling the sheets from your bed over you. you left knowing what he was doing.

"dude, i've seen it all. in fact, i did a little more than just look at it"

“keep talking and your eyes will magically disappear”

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jaylaxies · 2 years ago

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THE PATH TO A NERD’S HEART

PAIRING: nerd!jay × fem!reader

GENRE/CW: sub!jay, dom!reader, smut, fluff, unprotected sex, public sex, slight biting and marking, mentions of bullying, room sharing, kissing, handjob, mentions of sunghoon

WC: 8.1k (8169) words

SYNOPSIS: the annual debate competition was just around the corner and you were thrilled to meet your partner, who turned out to be park jongseong. from you studying together to him asking you how it feels to kiss someone, how would your relationship progress? especially when you offer to give him a demonstration, even more so when he asks if he could get a bit more.

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, angels! I'm back with another fic! i've re-edited this fic and i’m reposting as per the request of my anonnie! i hope y'all will enjoy this! :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all <3

“What have you done to her?” The principal sighed in distress, slightly turning his head, glancing at the girl who sat next to you with an expression filled with misery, a girl with a broken nose to be more precise.

“With all due respect, sir, she was bullying a student, which clearly goes against our school policies, and further, she tried to punch me when I asked her to stop. She had it coming,” you calmly explained the whole situation, fake politeness dripping off your tone.

The girl next to you screamed like a maniac after hearing your statement, flailing her arms and legs, claiming that you were the one who attacked her first. She never failed to show her spoiled-child behaviour in public.

“I request you to please check the surveillance camera of the corridor, it'll make it more clear to you, sir,” you faked your smile as Hana Lee, the bully, started crying, knowing that nothing could save her from the upcoming punishment now.

She was soon dismissed to go to the medical room, her wound bleeding, yet she didn’t show a sign to stop protesting.

“Miss Y/N, I understand that what Miss Lee did was wrong, but that does not give you any right to punch her.” He looked at you with an expression that clearly displayed disappointment.

“It was just self defense from my side, sir,” you said with wide eyes, plastering your most innocent face in front of him, wanting to leave his office as soon as possible.

He sighed, “you’re one of our top students, miss Y/N, and I appreciate you caring for the other students, but please refrain from using punches next time. You can leave now.”

You finally smiled in victory, muttering a ‘thank you’ before grabbing your bag and rushing out of the office.

As you got out of the office, a hand immediately grabbed your wrist, causing you to widen your eyes at the sudden gesture, your own hand curling its fingers to punch until you saw who it was.

He softly pulled you to the empty staircase area.

“I’m sorry,” he slowly whispered, he had a busted lip and red eyes, the sight made your heart hurt, a frown settling on your face.

“Jay! Oh my god! Does it hurt?” You asked, hand extending towards his face.

You barely knew the boy, in fact, your first ever proper interaction with him took place this morning.

“You shouldn’t have stepped up for me,” he sighed, eyes not meeting yours as he looked at his shoes, confused as to why you would help him.

“I don’t care what you say, I cannot stand bullying, Jay,” you simply told him, getting closer to see his wound, the wound caused by Hana.

Now, the question is: How did you reach here in the first place?

Let’s start by replaying the morning events.

The yearly Inter-school English debate was two months away from now. Meaning, that you’ll soon know who your assigned partner is for this year’s competition would be.

Your English teacher had asked you to meet her, so you made your way towards the staff room. You greeted her as soon as you saw her, eyes soon moving to observe a guy with specs standing next to her.

“Y/N, c’mere! Meet Park Jay, he’ll be your partner for this year’s debate competition,” your teacher explained.

You smiled, extending your hand which he shyly took into his bigger ones, “nice to meet you, Jay.”

Your radiant smile caused Jay to crack a small smile of his own, “it’s really nice to meet you too,” he said.

Further, the teacher explained how your school won’t be the host for the debate this year, instead, the Busan branch will be the one to do so.

Conclusively, she informed you that all your expenses will be paid by the school, except for the extra souvenirs you would purchase there for yourself.

You listened to it all, giving small nods at the end of her sentences, your eyes also shifting to look at the guy standing next to you, his gaze focused on what your teacher was telling.

A hotel will be arranged and she will accompany you both for your two day trip to the competition.

“The topic will be provided to you both soon, I hope both of you will get along well, please don’t hesitate to ask for any sort of help from me,”Ms. Hwang smiled at you both and ensured that you were okay with this setting.

Park Jay. You knew him, of course you did. He’s always been exceptionally smart in studies, him being the only one in school who matched your own pace.

The only difference between you was his shy nature. Your nature screamed enthusiasm and boldness, hence, making friends came easily to you. You were one of the popular students, not to mention how you were good at academics too, which was also paired with your kind nature.

However, you didn’t know much about Jay, except for the fact that he was good at studies and closed off, with little to no friends at your school.

This piqued your curiosity.

After Ms. Hwang left, you turned to look at the shy boy, asking him if he’d be up to eat lunch with you, to get to know each other better.

His eyes slightly widened at your suggestion and you theorized it must be because he never eats with anyone else, which worried you as you thought you had crossed a line.

His small smile just after, ensured that it was not the case, “I’d love to,” he said, and you noted how sharp yet cute his smile was.

The whole student body was shocked to see Jay interacting with the popular girl herself, their eyes fixated on your table.

It wasn’t your concern though, you were enjoying having a simple conversation with him, asking him about his hobbies. He got excited that you were willing to talk to him, not forcing yourself like the other students did. And he tried his best not to show how excited he was.

He told you about his love for fashion, his smile growing at each word he spoke, you found his deep voice pretty as you paid attention to everything he had to tell and offer.

He stopped his sentence midway, looking at you as you stared at him with shiny eyes.

“I talk a lot, don’t I?” His shyness came back to him all of a sudden.

“No! I think that it’s really beautiful that you’re so passionate about something, I could hear you speak about it for hours,” you reassured him, reaching forward to hold his hand which was kept on the table.

He breathed out softly, gulping at the sight of your joined hands and your reassuring smile, his cheeks heating up and a sudden warmth spreading through his chest.

Just one conversation and he already wanted to trust you, to spend more time with you, to get to know you better.

He looked forward to it all.

You wanted the same, to get to know him better. Jay was cute effortlessly, and you were quick to notice that even slight proximity made him nervous to the point his ears got red.

You found it adorable, promising yourself to keep a check on him to make sure he doesn’t feel lonely at school anymore.

So, when you saw Hana cornering and punching him for not completing her homework, you knew you had to step in.

He watched how you pushed her away from him, standing as a barrier between them both. He noticed how you raised your voice at her, the demeanour completely changed from the sweet one which you had in the morning.

He noticed how you didn’t hesitate to block her punch, your own hand swiming to counter punch her instead with no regrets whatsoever.

He stood there in awe, he knew was thankful to you, however, he was too shocked to even form words.

You turned back to look at him, his lip bleeding and his bloodshot eyes made you worried and angry at the same time.

Before you could say anything to him, you were dragged to the principal's office.

Which brings you back here.

Jay silently cried in front of you, “you don’t deserve this,” you softly said with a sad frown before hugging him

His hands grabbed your waist as he softly weeped into your shoulder, your hand rubbing soothing circles on his back.

You weren’t sure how long Hana had been bullying him into doing his homework, but now, you had this sudden urge of wanting to protect him, your hands tightening around him.

He calmed down after a few minutes, body still holding on to you.

“Thank you,” he softly whispered, taking a step back, his eyes meeting yours for a second before he turned away, rushing to leave.

He did not stop when you called out his name, thrice.

You sighed, stuffing your hands in the jacket pocket before leaving for the next class.

The boy never left your mind no matter how hard you tried to concentrate on the lecture.

The news had spread all around the school as the newest gossip. Some said that Jay was your new boyfriend, while some assumed you to be his bully. Nevertheless, no one bullied him after Hana got suspended for using violence in school.

Soon after, the theme for the debate was announced and Ms. Hwang had called you both to inform you about the same.

You observed his face, seeing him for the first time after that incident and you were glad to see that all his wounds were healed and didn’t leave any scars.

When he felt you looking at him, he turned to look at you, smiling softly to say hello.

After some minutes of general discussion with your teacher, she left you both alone as she had to grade other test papers.

You never brought up the topic of Hana again, only paying attention to the debate. Jay kept on glancing at you from time to time.

“Thank you,” he whispered shyly, passing you a bottle of your favourite drink, which made you tilt your head to look up at him, “I wasn’t sure what you liked so I asked Sora,” he rushed to speak, mentioning how he asked your best friend about it.

“You didn’t have to.” A smile graced your face at his sweet gesture.

He felt more confident talking to you now, and he even attempted to make silly jokes just to see you laugh, which you did, heartily at that.

Your hand grabbed his arm as you tried to support yourself while laughing. He found it beautiful and he wished to hear your laugh more often. Your hand felt soft on his arm, sending tingles to his stomach.

You hugged him softly before leaving, your sweet scent sending Jay into a state of frenzy, his ears turning red while his heartbeat felt faster than usual.

Being teased was like a routine for you now, your friends did everything in their will to constantly remind you how 'soft' you have gone for that nerd kid.

“Your jealousy is showing,” you smirked at Sunghoon, who repeatedly mentioned Jay in each of your conversations.

“Of fucking course! You haven’t kissed me in weeks,” he retorted.

It had been a while since you ended your friends with benefits relationship with him, you just couldn’t do it anymore, it felt wrong to you, seeing how attached he was getting with your setting.

Yet still, you decided to humor him this time.

Laughing at his pouty face, you grabbed his chin as you kissed him, trapping him against the lockers and he eagerly kissed back, not caring if anyone saw you both.

The makeout session was short lived as the bell was quick to indicate the time for your next class, a groan leaving his mouth as he punched the locker, muttering how nothing works in his favour.

You left him there, a boyish smirk spreading on his face when you winked at him.

You were breathless, but then you realized why you had left this in the first place, the guilt seeping deep inside you, knowing that it would lead him on if your suspicions were right.

You’ll say no the next time, that’s what you decided, not paying attention to the lesson the entire class.

You didn’t like him, you just needed a distraction from a certain someone who invaded your mind at the most random times.

You weren’t going to use Sunghoon as a distraction anymore.

You couldn't.

Jay met you at the library after school, for research purposes and collecting further information on your topic to be prepared as much as possible.

“Hey,” you smiled, hugging him, which had now become a usual thing for you two.

You noticed how he was a bit hesitant somehow, his arms not pulling you closer like they always used to.

Not paying much attention to it, you both got inside and searched for your respective books and topics, noting down all the information you needed. No words were exchanged for a long time, your focus solely on the text in front of you.

“How does it feel?” A whisper was heard from beside you.

“Excuse me?” You asked, looking up at Jay, confused at his unusual antics and sudden silence. “H–how does it feel to kiss someone?” He completed his sentence, not looking up at you while he kept fiddling with the hem of his uniform sleeve.

“Wait, you saw?” You asked him, eyes widening as you thought that he might have gotten the wrong impression.

You realized that he might have seen you kiss hoon earlier today, hence his question.

“Have you ever kissed anyone before, Jay?” You enquired slowly, not missing the way his eyes turned big for a second.

“N—no,” he whispered.

“Have you ever wanted to try it?” You softly asked.

Jay was probably the purest person you had ever met, the thought of corrupting him kept on swimming in your mind, the fact that he might want to try something with you made you smile.

“Will it be fine?” he hesitated again, “isn’t he your boyfriend?” He asked, referring to Sunghoon.

“What?” you almost shouted, apologizing once you got looks from the nearby students.

Maybe the library isn’t the best place for such conversations.

“He’s not my boyfriend, Jay. We’ve had something but it was not a relationship,” you revealed.

He listened to you with all his attention, a small smile on his face when you told him that you were single, which you didn’t fail to notice.

And he nodded, saying that he wants to try. His ears were red, which you found adorable.

“Of course, we’ll stop the moment you feel uncomfortable, yeah?” You assured him.

“But, here?” he kept on asking like a kid, his heartbeat beyond control as he tried not to seem too flustered.

You laughed, “we’re meeting at my place tomorrow, right? We can try it out then, if you’d be comfortable with that,” you suggested and he agreed shyly, nodding and looking down at his fingers.

You only looked at the pretty boy next to you, wondering how far he would want to go with you.

Jay was overwhelmed by the fact that you agreed to kiss him, he had been staring at your lips ever since he saw you kiss sunghoon in the morning, deeply wishing that it was him instead.

It was pretty strange of him to think this way, but he couldn’t stop, especially when he saw how you took control of the kiss, tilting Sunghoon’s head to the side and kissed him deeply.

You saw him looking dazed as you were about to leave, his actions being so cute, which left you wanting to fluster him more.

A cute yelp left his mouth as you softly pecked his cheek, tiptoeing to do so, before bidding him goodbye.

He blushed a lot in general, but you being around him took it to another level, you found it adorable to say the least, excited to see how he would behave tomorrow.

The next day, Jay woke up early. He wanted to look perfect, to smell perfect, to be perfect for you. Not that he needed to do anything, yet he did some extra research for the debate and printed them out for you, to make up for the time you’d invest to kiss him today.

He paid more attention to his clothes, for this would be the first time you would see him without his usual uniform. He even devoted his time to do his hair, finally reaching your place at the exact time you had given him.

Releasing his breath and cussing once, he rang the doorbell.

You were quick to rush down to open the door, not wanting him to wait for long, chuckling when you saw how he rang the bell at the exact time you had given him.

His breathing hitched as he laid his eyes on you.

It was the first time he saw you looking this comfortable as you wore a soft and loose top along with sweatpants.

“Jay! Come in,” your enthusiastic voice dragged him out of his daydream as he nodded.

He followed you like a lost puppy, “are you home alone?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“Oh, yeah! My parents come home late,” you explained with a wink, “don’t worry, baby,” you said and he almost passed out with the nickname you had used.

You smirked at his state, making him sit on your bed.

“You look good,” you complimented seeing his attire and he muttered a small thank you, a shy smile spreading on his face.

He likes to be praised, you noticed.

Without much delay, you started scripting your research papers. Jay noted how you were always serious when it came to studies and the competition, he paid attention to the way you bit your lower lip while concentrating.

Some part of him wanted you to do the same to his lips, he waited patiently for you to remember your promise to kiss him but you never once brought it up, his mood turning sad.

Taking the matter into his own hands, he spoke up.

“Can we—” he took a deep breath as you stared at him with big doe eyes, urging him to continue.

“I—it’s nothing actually.” He backed away.

You laughed, “I didn’t peg you to be the impatient type,” you smirked, well knowing what he wanted.

Closing your laptop, you urged him to come near you, patting the space next to you.

“We’ll start off with a simple peck, yeah? Pinch me if you feel uncomfortable and I'll stop,” you told him and he shivered as you got closer to his face, gulping his anxiety down.

“May I?” You finally asked, searching his eyes.

“Y—yes,” he whispered, nodding.

Softly placing your hand on his cheek, your lips touched his lips in a short peck. They merely touched, yet it was enough for Jay to get butterflies, heart beating out of his chest at the sensation.

You leaned back to observe his reaction, he still had his eyes closed, a soft rosy glow spread on his cheeks.

Getting closer again, you grabbed his chin, tilting his head as you dived in to kiss him, longer this time, your lips moving in sync once he got the hang of it, low whine leaving his mouth, making you smile.

You wanted to play with him even more.

So, you gently bit on his lower lip, causing him to gasp, giving you enough opportunity to taste him.

It felt so right yet, forbidden somehow.

You had invaded all his senses, you pushed him down on the bed, his eyes looking at your every move as you made him lean against the head frame, you sat down on his lap and he cussed.

“Does it feel good?” You asked with a small, teasing smile.

“Fuck, y—yes it feels so good,” he whispered out.

“Yeah? So good that my good boy is using bad words now?” You teased.

“Please,” he whined, “sorry, I’ve never done this before and it just, it felt so good I couldn’t help it,” he rambled and you shut him up with a peck.

“Lord, you’re so adorable. It makes me want to ruin you,” you breathed out, brushing his hair away from his forehead, gripping his chin and running your thumb on his swollen lower lip.

His heartbeat sped up at your words again, head dizzy as he said, “please,” and you pulled him into a deep kiss for the second time.

Your fingers softly tugged on his hair, finally causing him to moan out loud, his pretty voice resounding all over the room.

You both pulled back from the kiss after a few minutes, breathing hard and deep to come back to your senses.

“How was it?” you asked him in a gentle voice, sitting down next to him, slightly worried if you had gone too far for his first time.

His stare on your face and silence only made it worse.

“Can we do that again?” He asked after a few seconds, trying not to sound too shameless, but he couldn’t help it, not when you had offered to kiss him so nicely.

He slowly pulled the hem of your top, and you understood, coming back to kiss him, your hand on his jaw, as he shifted his position for you to take full control.

He laid underneath you as his heart pounded harder than ever, he could only focus on how soft your lips felt against his mildly chapped ones, his eyes closed as he took in everything you were willing to offer.

The said practice of your debate ended with you making out with Jay, he didn’t wish to stop, not even after his lips were swollen, his eyes shining as he looked at you as if you were a goddess.

He had to excuse himself when his cock felt painfully hard, he was beyond embarrassed and you looked at him with hooded eyes, holding yourself back before it gets too much for him.

“Here’s the washroom,” you guided him, “let me know if you need help,” you said with a smirk.

“I—thank you,” he rushed to go inside.

You knew what he was going to do, and you wished it was you who’d be the one to please him instead, his voice wasn’t silent when he took your name, as he reached his orgasm inside the washroom.

You chuckled, wondering how he’d look while doing so into your hand. He left soon after, face red and hot.

It left him wanting more.

The debate was a week away from now, and you both were well prepared for it yet, you kept on studying from your notes. That wasn’t your concern right now though, a certain nerd had occupied your mind from the past few days.

You found it adorable how he would request you to kiss him in the empty classroom, his room, or any place where you both were alone, he wanted you guys to be alone together.

You were corrupting him, and truth being told, you wanted to corrupt him even more.

Jay had always been attractive, his knowledge was a plus point to it all. You absolutely loved his shy demeanor, no matter how comfortable you both got with each other, he could not help but blush around you.

Meanwhile, Jay was confused. He had never had girl problems before, so why did it feel so different when it came to you? Even more so when you were so good to him.

He loved how you took care of him in the most minimum way possible, you made him feel like he mattered, giving him motivational speeches (and your kisses were a cherry on top).

He knew it really well that the other students wanted to date you, or they wanted to be closer to you. Why wouldn’t they? You were perfect in their eyes, but this did not stop Jay from wanting more. He wanted you to claim him yours. You were beyond perfect in his eyes.

But he wondered if you’d ever be willing to like him back, to be with someone like him. Kissing was one thing, maybe you did it just to make him happy, but more?

He could only wish.

“All participants from the same school will be given one room to share, will it be okay for you both?” Ms. Hwang informed you both, also asking for your comfort.

Jay stiffened, he was sure to lose control if left alone with you at night.

“It’s alright for me ma’am,” you smiled.

“Yeah, for me too,” Jay shakily let out.

He wanted this, he finally decided, he’d even go as far as confessing his feelings for you.

“Alright then, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, right?” Ms. Hwang confirmed as you both nodded, you had to leave early tomorrow for the competition.

As you walked back home with Jay, saying that you’d drop him off, you spoke, “are you sure that you’ll be comfortable?” you asked as your fingers were interlocked with his, giving him butterflies.

“You’ll take care of me right?” He asked in a low whisper, suddenly stopping and looking at you.

He definitely meant more than the normal care but you were willing to give him anything.

“I will,” you promised with a smile, “I’ll take care of my pretty boy,” you said before pecking his lips and leaving him blushing on the sidewalk.

The next morning, he didn’t have to wake up, for, he didn’t get to sleep. That’s how excited he had been, the fact that you were going to be in the same room as him at night made him blush.

His excitement only grew when he saw you at the station wearing a skirt, it was short lived as Sunghoon came into view, holding your hand, holding your luggage with his other hand.

Jay frowned at the sight.

Sunghoon looked like your boyfriend with this setting, he did not like it a bit.

You spotted Jay in a second, smiling and hugging him without thinking much, it was not returned though.

You bit down your smile, making him jealous seemed like a great idea to you, knowing well how adorable and needy he is.

Naturally, Hoon got a cheek kiss as a goodbye while Jay had a frown plastered on his face, almost like a pout.

Your teacher came to the station soon, informing you that her seat is not near you both and telling you her seat number so you can approach her for anything you’d need.

You nodded and thanked her before getting into the train, which arrived right on time.

You sat down next to him on the express train, which gave you two hours to spend with him.

“What’s wrong?” You innocently asked him, your hand resting on his thick thigh.

“N—nothing.” His breath hitched as your hand neared his upper thighs.

You softly massaged that region, “you’ll be a good boy and tell me, won’t you?”

He shivered with the tone you had used, your hands making him feel weak in the knees.

He rushed to keep his backpack on his lap to hide his private area in case something went wrong.

He whined your name as quietly as possible, “tell me what's wrong, baby?” you asked again.

He grabbed your hand, staring at you with doe eyes as he placed it high up on his thigh, near to his hardening cock.

“Not so fast,” you said as you moved your hand away, “you’re not getting anything until you tell me what’s bothering you,” you urged him.

“I was jealous,” he whispered, red adorning his face.

“Yeah? Go on,” you hummed, softly brushing your fingers in his hardened and clothed member.

The thrill of you touching him in public only made his cock hard.

“You kissed Sunghoon,” he whined, placing his head on your shoulder, trying to calm himself from the pleasure he was receiving.

“Yes I did, and what about it?” You sped up, placing your hand on his cock, thankful that he had covered himself using the bag, so that others won’t be able to see you both.

It caused him to squirm in his seat.

“I—I wanted it too,” he struggled to form words.

“Being needy, are we now?” you chuckled as he softly moaned into your neck.

“What more do you want, pretty boy?” You asked, pleasuring him.

“Your kisses, y—your touch and—ah! You,” he barely spoke.

“That’s my good boy.”

You continued your actions for a few minutes, allowing him to release his mess without you having to touch him directly.

You looked at him in awe, you wanted him to be yours. Your baby boy.

“You did so well, baby,” you cooed at his teary face, kissing him swiftly.

“Go and clean up in the washroom, yeah?” You said and he nodded, somehow making his way towards the room.

He was clingy the entire ride, and it made you smile as you gave him all your attention.

“Did you like it?” you questioned.

He bit his lip, “yes, I did,” his answer was short as he was shying away again.

“How cute,” you said, “get me a list of things you like, yeah?” you requested him just before getting off at your destination.

The whole ride to the hotel was silent as your teacher was with you both, Jay still couldn’t think straight, his mind going back to when you touched him and how devastatingly good it felt.

“Here’s your room key, you are both free till tomorrow, so you can roam around a bit but be careful! Don’t forget to meet me at the same place at 11 am sharp with your proper attire on tomorrow,” Ms. Hwang commanded and you both nodded, leaving her to settle in her room.

After washing up and changing into comfortable clothes, you both sat down side by side at 9 pm. You noticed him writing something, but didn’t ask what it was, only looking at his face which had a cute pout, an expression he held whenever he was focused.

You settled down and scrolled through your messages on the phone to pass your time, even though deep inside, you wanted to spend time with Jay.

He soon came up to you, calling your name softly as you looked up at him.

He gently placed a note in your palm.

“I made the list,” he said, referring to the time you asked him to make a list of the things he liked back on the train.

You raised your brows, “come here,” you patted the place next to you before you grabbed his chin, making his heartbeat rise again.

“Let’s see now.” Holding the note in your other hand, you started reading, “degradation and praise kink? Oh, so you want to be called a dumb slut now?” you saw him nod and shiver, enjoying the way you called him a slut.

You wanted to ruin him.

“Choking? Who would have thought that our president ‘good boy’ would be into such filthy stuff,” your hand traveled from his chin to his neck, putting in a bit of pressure just enough for it to feel pleasurable.

Jay whined at the constricted feeling yet his eyes never left your face.

“You wanna be tied up? Cuffed even? And used as I wish?” Your eyes widened after reading his fantasies, the list amusing you beyond words.

You knew that Jay was willing to try stuff but you never expected it to be this wild, you loved it and you bit your lips as you looked his way.

“Please?” He requested you, eyes innocent.

“What do you want me to do, baby boy?” you finally asked as he gulped, coming closer to whisper something in your ear.

“Want you to touch me, please.”

“Like this?” You pulled him closer by the neck, your hand traveling down from his torso to his lower abdomen, and you noticed how he shivered with your touch.

“I—yes,” he let out desperately.

Switching to a better position, you got close to him, almost sitting on his lap as your fingers further trailed up to his mouth.

He was quick to part his lips, taking them in and sucking on your two digits, your head tilting as you noticed how devoted his look was, tongue swirling around your fingers.

“How cute,” you commented, amused with the boy, the same boy who you thought was innocent, however, that wasn’t the case.

All he wanted to do was to please you, and he wanted you to call him yours.

Your other hand rested on his thigh, soon going up and resting on his hard on, causing him to moan around your fingers.

“My needy pup, do you want me to take care of you?” You asked, loving how he reacted to your touch.

As you softly touched him through his sweatpants, he unconsciously jerked his hips forward, suppressing a moan.

“Let me hear it, I need your answer,” you slowed down your actions, causing him to whine.

“Yes! I w—want that so much,” he said out loud, as you took your fingers out of his mouth, wrapping them around his throat.

“Good, now, don’t move, and don’t you dare suppress your pretty noises, am I clear?” you asked for confirmation.

He nodded swiftly as you removed his pants.

His hard member came into view, thick and veiny, begging to be touched. Jay bit back his moans as you teased his tip with your thumb, your fingers wrapping around his length before you bent down to softly swirl your tongue on it, your eyes never leaving his.

“Fuck,” he cursed out loud as you took him in your mouth.

“Good boys don’t use bad language, do they?” You said slapping his dick. Your slender fingers gripped his neck again, this time capturing him in a passionate kiss.

“Y—yes,” he whispered against your lips.

“Open your mouth,” you ordered and he complied, you spat in his mouth, observing how it traveled down his tongue, “swallow it.”

And he did, opening his mouth again to show you the same, causing you to smirk.

“Such a good slut for me.” You kissed him as he whimpered at the degradation coming out of your sweet mouth.

He also whined at the lack of your attention to his cock.

He was needy, and you loved it. You had wanted to take care of him from the very start, seeing the boy in front of you, all naked, you wondered how he’d look full of your lipstick marks, which you’ll leave on his sweet hickeys.

You slowly started stroking his cock again, taking him in your mouth whilst massaging his balls. His breathing got heavier by each second, face red and voice shaky as he took your name sweetly.

Tears stained his rosy cheeks due to the immense pleasure he received, it was unlike ever before, his hands never felt this good, this perfect.

What made it better was the fact that it was you who was touching him, who was making him go crazy.

He liked you so much.

You felt him twitching and you got down to take him in your mouth before saying, “cum in my mouth baby boy,” and he did, moaning your name in the process as you hungrily gulped everything he had to offer.

You got up with a small smile on your face, seeing how he had closed his eyes, lip bitten and his chest heaving up and down.

You softly cupped his face, his eyes opening with your gentle touch.

“How are you feeling?” You asked him with a small smile, thumb caressing his cheek.

“Euphoric,” your laughter bloomed at his answer, a shy smile on his face, “can we do more?” He asked.

Your eyes softened at how vulnerable he looked at the given moment, and you knew if you’d do more, then you’ll probably won’t ever let go of him.

You kissed his forehead, “win that debate with me tomorrow and I’ll give you your victory gift, alright?”

He whined, not wanting to wait till tomorrow, but agreed nevertheless.

“C’mere, let’s get you cleaned up.” You took him to the bathroom, asking him to stay still as you cleaned him up, ensuring that he felt okay and you laughed whenever he felt ticklish at your touch.

“Can we cuddle at least?” He asked before sleeping, he loved being close to you. He had given you most of his firsts without any hesitation, and he was willing to give you even more. You grinned and took him in your arms, you both drifting off to dreamland soon.

Jay’s heartbeat clearly out of control as he only got closer to you, taking in your scent and watching you sleep, softly saying.

“I wanna be yours.”

The next morning was in a frenzy as you both tried to cramp up last minute information before your awaited debate.

Jay kept shying around after last night, and you had to pull him back and ask him to look into your eyes, making him laugh.

You couldn't help but notice how hot Jay looked in a black blazer, wondering if it was the same guy who begged you to touch him last night.

More importantly, you were also aware of that one girl who kept staring at Jay as you waited for your turn at the big auditorium where the competition was being held.

She was just behind you in the line, meaning, she might be your rival team for the final round, where you had reached with ease, courtesy of Jay.

Not being able to handle her constant stares and shy whispering about Jay, you rolled your eyes as you turned to him, calling out his name.

He turned to look at you, his face looked so innocent it made you want to smile, that’s the exact second you decided to peck him, tips of his ears turning red instantly

“W—what was that for?” He asked wide eyed, checking if someone saw you both.

“Just a good luck kiss for my baby,” you spoke loud enough for the girl to hear. A satisfactory smirk rested on your face as you saw her frown from the corner of your eyes.

Your turn came by soon, you listed out all the cons about the given subtopic with Jay smoothly.

However, you got stuck at the doubt round where the judges had to ask you questions, it was smooth until that one last question came up, which you had no idea how to answer.

You looked at Jay with worried eyes, but he kept his composure, remembering that particular piece of information from that one morning he made extra notes before going to your place, which he answered with full confidence, earning applause from the seated judges, and also you, a proud smile adorned your face.

You were sent back to the waiting area where you gushed about how cool Jay looked while answering with such confidence.

“It’s nothing,” he said, trying to act as if his ears weren’t turning red at your compliment.

“You’ll always be my shy baby,” you gently laughed.

He adorably rested his head on your shoulder as you praised him for being so intelligent while waiting for the result declaration.

“Now, for the most awaited first position, congratulations to ms. L/N and Mr. Park, from the Decelis Academy, Seoul!” The announcer declared.

You hugged him with joy, taking his hands in yours as you went on stage to accept the trophy, your teacher cheering and clicking pictures of you both from the audience seat.

Jay was overjoyed, somewhat because of winning the competition, but mostly for the reward that awaited him tonight. You both hugged again and got your trophy, Ms. Hwang treated you to dinner afterwards, being proud of you both and informing your principal at once.

Now that you were alone in your hotel room, without any distractions, you could easily see through Jay and how he was trying his best not to mention the reward you had promised you’d give him.

You smirked.

“My baby is so smart, shouldn’t he be rewarded now?” You asked, getting closer to him as he gulped down his nervousness.

“Please,” he breathed out.

“Please what, baby? Use your big words to tell me how you wish to be rewarded?” you encouraged him.

“Please, I want you,” he whimpered.

Your hands wandered around his torso, unbuttoning him one by one just to test his patience. He started helping you unbutton him, but you stopped him grabbing his cheeks.

“Did I give you permission to do anything?” You asked sharply while he shook his head, saying no.

“Be a good boy for me, yeah?” He nodded as your lips captured him into a deep kiss, your fingers gripped his hair while he held on to your waist, low hums and grunts were heard as you started grinding on him.

“Fuck me, please!” He cried out loud,

“Undress me,” you ordered.

He shakily took off your white blouse, leaving you in your lace bra, his eyes fixated on your body, and how pretty you looked in lace.

“Can I touch you?” He asked for your permission, you nodded.

He removed the remaining of your clothes and softly trailed his fingers down your body, as if trying to memorize you. Holding his hand, you guided him towards your wet pussy.

“Prep me, baby,” you instructed him as he hesitantly touched your core, spreading your juices in a circular motion.

He observed how you bit down on your lips and closed your eyes. Getting further validation from you, he pushed in a finger, slowly pumping it, he soon added another digit, his fingers curling inside of you sending you into bliss.

You felt your high nearing, “fuck, Jay I want to cum on your cock,” you said switching your positions so that you were straddling him, he cried out loud as your wet cunt came in contact with his throbbing dick.

“Moan louder, babyboy, tell everyone who the winner is tonight,” you said against his lips.

That let him loose, lewd sounds filled up the room.

“Louder,” you encouraged him, finally letting him enter inside you.

Your walls clenched around his thick member, adjusting to his size. You looked at him for permission.

“Please, you can move,” he allowed you.

Without wasting much of a second, you started riding him, your tits bouncing up and down in the process.

Jay couldn’t think straight anymore, his mind was corrupted by you, small dumb mumbles leaving his mouth and he loved how you were being equally soft and rough with him, considering it was his first time.

“Moan louder before I stop,” you threatened him, finally causing him extra stimulation when you clenched around him.

The pleasure was enough for his tears to run free, his cheeks blotchy with red speckles all over, and he moaned, just like you had wanted him to.

“Good boy,” you kept muttering, loving his sweet and needy voice.

“Let me cum, please?” He asked for your permission.

That is when you got off him.

“Not so fast, baby,” you replied with a peck on his lips.

Harsh whimpers left his mouth as you slowly stroked his leaking dick for the next few minutes.

“Please,” he begged after he couldn’t take it anymore, his dick twitching with how close he was.

“Impatient slut,” you slid into him again, your walls contracting around him, it was too much for him to take in.

You fastened your pace, “I’m about to—” he cried.

“Hold it in,” you warned, loved how he closed his eyes shut.

It was so fun teasing him.

You decided to be a bit gentle with him now that he was close, just like you.

“Cum inside me, love,” you encouraged

With a few more bounces, and his thrusts from below, he muttered a string of curses, emptying inside of you as you reached your high just a moment later.

You cupped his cheeks, not getting up but looking deep into his eyes.

“You did so well, I’ll arrange a nice hot bath for you to relax, yeah?” you softly caressed his cheeks.

He weakly nodded, still high from the activities done minutes back. Soon, you helped him into the tub, sitting on his lap as you softly washed his hair for him while he stared at you with stars in his eyes.

“What’s it?” you quietly asked, a small smile on your face.

“Thank you,” he pecked you, this time with adoration, catching you off guard as your heartbeat rose.

“I did nothing,” you smiled at him as he returned it.

You traced his red bruises, applying lotion to them and giving him a massage as well. Jay was thankful to say the least, eyes on your face.

“You’re staring,” you noted.

“You’re pretty,” he said, lowering his eyes as he did so.

“God, you’re so cute.” You kissed him softly, a shy smile gracing his face as you wrapped him in a towel.

“Come on, let’s sleep,” you patted the space near you.

“Can we cuddle?” he excitedly asked and you brightly nodded, taking him into your arms.

The room was silent, however, it felt comfortable, especially when you could feel Jay’s warmth in your arms.

“Y/N?” He called out your name.

You hummed, “yeah?”

“What are we?” he asked as he sat up to look at you.

“What do you mean?” you asked, also sitting up.

“I—what’s our relationship?” he gulped as he asked that, not sounding too confident, wondering if he’d be rejected.

“What do you want us to be?” you questioned, raising your brows.

Being with Jay was like a rollercoaster, you had grown a liking to him, more than you would like to admit.

His demure ways made you adore him, but he never hesitated to put a brave front for you and those cute efforts of his made you fall for him even more.

“I want us to be more than just friends,” he admitted.

You had bewitched Jay since the day you first talked to him, and the feeling only grew. He looked forward to spending time with you and soon it turned into yearning. He wanted to hold you in his arms and call you his, not wanting to share you with anyone else (ahem, Sunghoon), the phase might have been of only two months, but that was enough for him to fall for you.

“What’s more than friends?” you teased.

He pouted without even trying to, wondering if you were trying to ignore the topic because you didn’t want him, but seeing his expression, you frowned.

“Be my boyfriend,” you suddenly blurted out, not regretting it after.

Jay’s eyes widened comically, “w—what?”

You took a deep breath and laughed lightly, “Jay, baby, you’re so precious to me. Fuck! I like you so much, please be mine?” you expectantly stared at him.

His lips turned upwards and into the biggest smile you had ever seen on his face as he leaned forward and kissed you wordlessly, conveying his answer through it.

The kiss was deep and meaningful, “yes! yes, yes!” he squealed as you kissed him again.

“Hey, boyfriend,” you smiled.

“Hey, girlfriend,” he spoke with confidence, melting your heart as you pulled him down and into a hug which soon turned into a cuddling session.

Both of you fell asleep with smiles on your faces, your arms holding him tight.

Even after the competition, he couldn’t help but miss you every second of his day, texting you constantly, calling you at night just to stare at you during the two day holidays you had gotten.

The next time you met was after the competition was three days later at the school.

Jay saw Sunghoon approaching you, but he was faster as he stood in front of you, causing your eyes to widen at his sudden entry.

“Hi, baby,” he cooly said before placing a kiss on your lips.

You laughed at his childish behaviour as you see Sunghoon fuming from a distance.

“Getting protective, are we now?” you raised your eyebrow.

“You’re mine,” he tried to sound authoritative, but his voice came out in a whine.

“I’m yours,” you laughed, kissing him softly.

Safe to say, Sunghoon left after the little show Jay had put up and soon, the whole school knew about you two dating, half of them crying about how wrong the pairing is, you couldn’t care less though.

Jay was everything you needed and more, and you were going to cherish him for the rest of your life.

THANK YOU FOR READING!

TAGLIST: @ddeonuism @macaroonff @ajayke-reads @en-myworld @lunalovesstories @jayzdaze @deobitifull @silenth1lls @celeste-hoon @mari-oclock @kpoprhia @bolliwon @woniebae @lalalalawon @blessedcursd @skzenhalove

permanent taglist open! comment or send an ask to be added <3

#fic : the path to a nerd’s heart #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #jay smut #enha smut #jay x reader #kpop smut #enhypen imagines #park jay smut #sub!jay

1K notes · View notes

velvetdolor · 2 months ago

Text

fatal attraction. (m) pt.i

⋆.˚✮ pairings: artapprentice!seonghwa x muse! reader x famouspainter!yeosang (18+!!)

⋆.˚✮content warning(s): an unnecessary amount of tension and seemingly one sided pining, marking kink, possessive seonghwa, sobbing, pathetic men, emotionally charged begging, asphyxiation, lots of saliva (pt.ii), exhibitionism, underlying notes of infidelity/betrayal, s/m play, power dynamics, voyeurism, dependency, slight degradation, sensory deprivation, oral, and unprotected sex.

⋆.˚✮genres: short—two-part series, angst, smut, mature (18+)

⋆.˚✮summary: park seonghwa is a newly appointed art apprentice studying under kang yeosang, a prolific painter who’s infamous for his intensely controversial and erotic oil paintings. when he meets y/n, yeosang’s one and only muse and object of obsession—seonghwa is seduced into a decade long affair of yearning for another man’s muse he cannot touch.

⋆.˚✮ word count: 6k

⋆.˚✮ masterlist: summary, pt.i, pt.ii

⋆.˚✮ disclaimer: this is now edited LMAO i finally wrote it. if you’d read the first version of it, there’s a couple of more details added now to add depth to part ii. anyways, more begging and emotional turmoil to come in the next and final part of the series. i recommend listening to “babylon” by tamino if you like listening to music while reading. it’s this chapters designated theme song :)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・.・。.

The clattering of paintbrushes falling onto the floor pulls you from your reverie as you gazed out of the window and are greeted by the sight of Seonghwa fumbling around to pick up the scattered supplies.

“Hwa.”

You witness his breathing go still for a moment at the sound of your voice and his eyes remain fixated on the floor as he apologizes lowly—still kneeling on the ground in order to search for the brushes that rolled under the table. The tension that seems to haunt the air of every room you’re left alone with Seonghwa in remains unaddressed, as always. The room is silent yet somehow full and only the sudden sounds of the silk of your dress dragging down your thighs and back onto the floor accompany your path towards Seonghwa’s figure.

He clears his throat and it’s clear that it’s the first time he’s spoken today. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.” A small frustration blooms within you at his refusal to meet your eyes, and you impulsively reach down to cradle his jaw within the small dip of your palm.

“Why are you avoiding my eyes, Seonghwa?” You start with, using your free hand to brush and fiddle with his bangs. His head still hasn’t lifted and actively avoids your stare.

“—Will you grace me with the sight of your pretty gaze? Did I do something to upset you?” You utter softly as his widened eyes finally meet your own.

You can’t ignore the shaking in his breath as he turns away from you quickly, before plastering a small smile on his face. “Not at all, Angel. Just an off day is all.” He internally groans at the guilt invading his consciousness, immediately recalling his misdeeds from the day prior.

He didn’t mean to watch Yeosang make love to you, truly—but he couldn’t walk away from the sight of your flushed face damp with sweat and jaw slack in ecstasy.

His feet glued themselves to the floor as he watched Yeosang rabidly fuck you like he was trying to split you open on the same table hes currently crawling under. Yeosang got to fuck you right at this wonderful spot and he’s left pathetically searching for a dull #2 pencil while his insides churn and threaten to expel the small lunch he forced himself to eat barely an hour ago. The intense apprehension and guilt made him feel sick.

He watched from a small slip of the art studio’s door, left mistakenly ajar, and it was then that your beloved Seonghwa made the mistake of becoming a keyhole voyeur. Years of restraint were thrown out the window and in his frustration with himself—he couldn’t find it in him to meet your pretty little eyes.

All because of a moment of lucid perversion.

Before he could fully fathom what he was doing, his left hand already started to trail down the firmness of his stomach and tucked itself softly beneath his trousers. Tapping at the beads of his own slick and caressing the pale pink of his intimacy, Seonghwa didn’t want to waste time blinking. Intently matching the pace in which Yeosang banged into you, he shuddered when he noticed your skin ripple under his weight.

An ugly sort of envy spread throughout his body when he eyed Yeosang’s veiny hand gripping at your neck to hold it for support as his thrusts progressively became erratic.

Something in Seonghwa clicked when he observed that contrary to your appearance—you didn’t seem to enjoy any softness in bed and soft is exactly what Seonghwa is. He wanted to cradle and consume you, love you for everything it’s worth. His eyebrows push together in momentary distress but he opts to shake it off and tighten his hand around himself so he could tug at his cock a little more brutally.

You came when Yeosang’s other hand decided to reach down to slap your face harshly—its weight forcing your neck to tilt towards the left side of the room. Seonghwa spots the smile that slid onto Yeosang’s cherubic face as he leaned over to lick at the red palm-shaped rawness of your cheek.

Seonghwa timed his orgasm to match yours and he could’ve sworn that the black irises of your eyes met his own through the small slip in the door as you fought to catch your breath.

Spinning around, Seonghwa’s arms are stiff as he makes his way down the corridor and tries to mask the overwhelming trepidation coursing through his body. His loafers click against the marble floors of yours and Yeosang’s shared grand chateau, and everything around him was an intense reminder of…you.

The entirety of his existence was drenched in your colors. It was all just you, you, you—and he felt like he couldn’t escape the very reminder that he had no place in your life that would satisfy even a minuscule portion of his soul.

His pace quickened into a run once he was far enough away from the study so that you wouldn’t hear the sound of his pounding feet finding their way outside and into the labyrinth of a courtyard.

The sharp winter air slipped under his thin white blouse, brushing his hair back as the cold burned his throat and continued to run with no particular destination in mind. Anywhere was fine, just not anywhere near you. The cold breeze hit the wetness of his trousers and he furrowed his eyebrows in what felt like an overwhelming anguish, and he alas stopped in front of a haunting statue of a weeping angel, far into the gloom of your vast garden. Only the moonlight accompanied him and casted shadows onto his silhouette.

Catching his breath, it crept back up on him in a moment's notice— the raw heartache that accompanied his hunger for you as he fantasized taking his mentor's place but in this beautiful home? It was your shared palace with Yeosang, built on the visage of the artist's dreams of you, and he touched himself to another man’s dream. How pathetic was he?

He’s left to deal with his own warmth that felt awfully frigid as you remained a fantasy and nothing more. Seonghwa knew that he didn’t have to be here assisting Yeosang anymore—he’d long surpassed his position as an apprentice and only came occasionally to stay at the chateau under the guise of Yeosang’s affection for him as a mentor wanting to revisit a nostalgic past. He’s unsure why he was an exception to Yeosang’s unhealthy possession over you, but he suspects that it’s because he’d always been as loyal as a dog. It’s exactly why Yeosang came to even like him in the first place.

Seonghwa had risen to success long ago as an artist who could confidently stand amongst the greatest in his country, yet he still had to crane his neck up to gaze at his beloved mentors standing and it had everything to do with you. He tries to swallow the thickness of his own ugliness, of his own painfully palpable want.

Seonghwa had always loved you.

He’s unsure why it felt instantaneous but enough years have passed that felt like an affirmation of its sincerity. It’s no surprise that you were an artist’s muse— you drew him off of his ship as a Siren would. In the distance of seven years, the ache never grew dull and only grew as he’d survive off of the crumb-like touches Yeosang unknowingly fed him with.

A finger “accidentally” pausing at the base of your spine before stroking at the column and placing a flat palm against the arch of your back to guide you per Yeosang’s instruction as he painted you. He fed off the fullness of your nude body as he contorted you into positions suitable for the stylistic preferences of Yeosang’s work, counting the creases that would appear on your waistline as your stomach bunched in on itself.

Seonghwa wasn’t lucky enough to be your lover but he knew every color that painted the natural pallet of your body, every minut scar and mark that graced your bodily canvas, and the sight of your beautiful bent form. He even knew the erotic smell of the slick that would unwillingly drip out of you and onto the fabric spread beneath you, but as beautiful as this was— his unfathomable draw to you wasn't caused by an allure to your body.

It was in your smaller details, like when the thinness of your nail would push back a strand of hair billowing in the wind away from your eyes, or when you would secretly pile more shortbread cookies onto your plate when Yeosang had you accompany him to pretentious galas, and in the moments of friendly intimacy when you’d relay the rawness of your character and being to Seonghwa—unintentionally relying on him as the only person you could really talk to without facing the wrath of Yeosang’s jealousy. In some ways, Seonghwa was also one of his prized possessions. You were both relics of his craft that would never escape the confines of his gilded art gallery willingly.

He couldn’t deny how inherently magnetic Yeosang is. He too, was bewitched and bewildered by his talents, unrestrained vulgarity, and appetites. Understanding this didn’t make the process of seeing the central character of his unrequited love be consumed by a man who held a strange obsession with her and strangled her existence with his selfish hands without committing to her. Seonghwa wasn’t sure of how you came to be in Yeosang’s possession, no one did really. It was a mystery often discussed within the elite circles of their industry.

Yeosang would never wed you—he even admitted that he found a sick satisfaction in knowing that “she would always remain his and that placing her on an equal plane as him would ruin the rawness of the art he makes out of her.” Though, Seonghwa didn’t see any trace of confusion or desire to change your relationship with Yeosang in your expressions. For the most part you rarely demanded anything from Yeosang as he drowned you in luxury so that you could embody his perfect doll.

His magnetism trained you to be the perfect visage and compliant doll of his dreams, and his sweet words would kiss the flutter of your lashes as you drifted off to sleep. Seonghwa pitied the women who’d marry Yeosang if it ever happened—this lovely chateau would be a sanctuary for Yeosang’s very own blackbird, and she would have to share not only a bed with you, but also her husband's heart. If he even had love for her that is.

Seonghwa turns to walk towards the art station on the far right of the studio and feels your unreadable gaze trailing his retreating figure.

The clicking of your heels causes his body to stiffen as you come closer to him, wrapping your arms and looping them around his chest as you embrace his back. He sucks a breath in, silently panicking at the act, hating that he couldn’t hide the responsiveness of his own body, and stills at the words that fall from your mouth.

“You saw it, didn’t you?” Your words are muffled and light against the thin fabric of his blouse and he shivers at the illusion of your lips grazing the skin above his spine. Seonghwa’s face pails as he grips the pencil in his hand so hard it snaps halfway.

For an entire minute, Seonghwa remains silent before releasing a small, withdrawn, and cold “Yes.”

Nothing else is said between you two as he basked in the weight of your arms before hardening himself. He couldn’t afford to do this—to imagine this any longer. He was a dog and dogs shouldn’t bite the hand that fed them.

All he chooses to do is grasp your right hand with his own to place a firm and prolonged kiss at the back of it, before softly removing your arms from him and walking away from your disruptive, maddening warmth. Seonghwa leaves the chateau shortly after quickly bidding Yeosang goodbye, and you don't see him again for the next few years.

⋆.˚✮ •⋆.˚✮•

You twirl the champagne flute cradled in your hand, sighing as your gaze flits around the room passively. Donning a velvet and backless dress the shade of burnt sienna with a hairstyle reminiscent of old Hollywood—you were exceptionally easy on the eyes.

The disdain in your face would be clear, however—to anyone paying enough attention. Leaning your back against an obscured corner of the ballroom, your boredom is palpable and you prefer to be here in your lonesome over being draped ornately at Yeosang’s side. You didn’t want to be the most beautiful girl in the room if it meant that you were completely isolated from genuine human interaction, but Yeosang’s possessiveness was universally known in his industry. It had no end point and you’re almost sure that Yeosang would rip at even the jewelry laying on your skin once the night was over, wanting to get rid of anything that has ever touched you.

You weren’t getting any younger, you know? His overwhelming possession used to make your body go hot instantly but maturity has allowed you to see all of the ways it exhausted and drowned a fire. It made you anxious now.

A part of you couldn’t imagine a life without Yeosang—since girlhood, he’s the only thing you’ve ever known and your opulent lifestyle is all thanks to him. You never starved again after meeting Yeosang and he hated the idea of the perfect doll having to work an insane amount of hours just to get by, and so under his deliberate instructions— you wouldn’t dare to dream of work.

It’s not to say that you were by his side strictly for the financial security or the great sex. At one point in your life you truly did love him. Idolized him even, yet the loneliness haunts you and whispers about a love you could never allow yourself to touch. They trail themselves up your body to lay on your tongue whenever Yeosang falls asleep next to you.

Fleetingly glancing around the room once more, your breath hitches when you catch the sight of Seonghwa. There’s a beautiful woman holding onto his right arm as he intently listens to a man you presume to be a close friend animatedly speak to him.

It’d been three years since you last saw him. Three years after you’d made the foolish mistake of falling victim to your heart's calling, the price of holding his body to yours without restraint was paid by the consequences of seemingly never seeing him again. The guilt for making him uncomfortable was palpable and often came to mind—even as the years went by. How could you be so stupid? Stupid enough to lose control and embrace the person most loyal to Yeosang besides you—his protégée, his disciple, his previous right hand man. Of course he didn’t want you, but a part of you wanted to test the boundary that separated you two. You wanted—no, needed confirmation that you weren’t imagining that look in his eyes or the tension that would fill the room when you two were left alone, but you were wrong. Embarrassingly so. A part of you was grateful despite, being pained, that you didn’t see him again.

At the very least you were spared from the shame of meeting him after what had transpired that day.

You knew you couldn’t afford to love anything else. The mask you wear so perfectly couldn’t find reason to slip from your face, and your straying devotion couldn’t be known to Yeosang. Love is not a priority, not when Yeosang contributed to your survival and didn’t have anything else going for you other than your beauty.

Seonghwa had changed. His boyish gaze frosted over sharpened features with dark lashes lining the stillness of his eyes. He was undeniably as beautiful as the day he left you, if not more.

The crisp suit he wore was accompanied by a sleek vest and long grey trench coat. Styling slicked back hair, you noticed the few face framing pieces unintentionally sticking out that made you start profusely sweating

God, you needed the ground to cave in so badly. You can’t be here right now, but nothing could’ve prepared you for Seonghwa’s gaze moving towards you. The cold of his gaze is momentarily broken by surprised recognition. An unrecognizable emotion slips out from his expression. Horrified, you readjust the chiffon drapery stylistically wrapped around your neck and quickly made your way to the balcony—far from his sight. You clasped your hands together to try and stop trembling. Shakily shutting your eyes and leaning back against the grand expanse of the operetta windows.

You’re halfway through releasing an extremely exhausted sigh when someone greets you. “It’s been awhile, little angel.” You jump at the sound of Seonghwa’s distinct soft and melodic voice, turning to face him as he leans against a pillar— stray hairs swaying in the breeze. You peer at him for a couple of seconds before moving your way towards the stone balcony railings, remaining silent as you comically throw a leg over the balcony ledge that was at least four floors high and Seonghwa stumbles in panic, running to your retreating figure. “What the hell are you doing?!”

He grabs your hips, but you simply move to sit on the thick expanse of the ledge. “Seems like you still can’t use your eyes, Seonghwa. I’m sitting.” The notes of cinnamon, anise, and bourbon in your perfume dizzy him and he’s immediately reminded of the beauty of your body and the softness of you he felt draped on his back. Of course, only you could reduce him back to clumsy boyishness—he planned to arrive at the gala as a new man, half-expecting you to be here, but still not quite betting on it. He expected to be impenetrable to anything, wanted by all, and most of all…unshaken by you. It seems the years still weren’t enough to change the horrors of unrequited love.

He quickly releases you but flinches when he hears you hiss in pain. Your dress had lifted and the sheer stockings you wore underneath had torn after scratching your calves against the surface of eroded and protruding stone, and the scratch begins to bead with blood. “Stay right here.” He instructs cooly before striding away.

Seonghwa returns shortly with a wet rag, disinfectant, and some bandaids. You inhale sharply as he suddenly kneels in front of you, gently holding onto the injured leg. You try your best to school your expression into one of absolute passivity but obsidian gaze peering up at you through his lashes doesn’t help in the slightest. Your thigh high stockings continue to rip more with the slightest of movements, and Seonghwa abruptly hikes your dress up further to your surprise. He seemed unbothered by the action for the most part.

His distractingly attractive hands hover above the meat of your thighs

“Can I take these off? It’d be easier to clean the wound…” he trails off, eyes darting around the emptiness of the balcony momentarily.

Goosebumps are already forming on your skin and he hasn’t even grazed you yet. You chastise yourself and muster up the courage to finally choke out a small agreement. “Yeah, sure.” Delicately urging him with a small nod of your head and a weak smile. Something dark strains in his eyes as he suddenly looks back up at you. His cold fingertips trail agonizingly slow over your arched leg and it almost feels intentional, but you shake the thought off. ‘Don’t make the same mistake, y/n’

Just as he makes it to the silicone band of your stockings and curls his fingers around it to gently roll the sheer fabric down, he caves to his instinctual impulse to stare between your legs. He immediately regrets it and all that leaves his mouth is a small, deadpan

“Fuck.”

Your dress is hiked enough for a sliver of your underwear to be visible and a damp mark darkened the off white and lace bordered cloth. It was practically translucent and the details of your intimacy were in no way hidden. You can see something visibly break in Seonghwa as he drops his head onto your knees and you’re surprised by the small shaking of his fingers. He inhales your scent deeply and without much thinking, he breaks and begs.

“Please let me touch you.” He rasps out, voice breaking and heartbreakingly desperate. You try to deny yourself this moment—reminding yourself that he came here with someone else, that you’re out in an open space for anyone to see, and Yeosang, oh Yeosang. This was the affirmation you sought three years ago and now that it’s in front of you kneeling, digging its face into your thighs begging for warmth, what are you supposed to do?

“How badly do you want to?” You whisper, seduced by the tears bubbling in his anguished eyes.

“So badly that it has permanently ruined me.” A fat tear fell and you answered his desire by bending down to lick at it with the flat of your tongue. His gaze darkens as he bruises your thighs with his grip and spreads them apart, still face to face with your core.

“I’ve endured this for years, Y/N. A decade, can you believe that? Won’t you reward my patience?” He unravels your stocking and takes your panties off along with it, kissing at your ankles. Peering up at you with manic hunger.

Threading your fingers into his hair and pushing his face closer to your core you simply sigh into the air

“Take whatever you want, it’s already yours.”

Seonghwa immediately pushes your hips towards him and grips the fabric riding up your body and you scramble to take a hold of the stone ledge beneath you so you don’t lose your balance. He breathily moans into you before engulfing you entirely with his mouth, widening, prodding and licking at the slick—collecting everything that attempted to escape his open jaw. Your reddened face goes slack at the overwhelming sensitivity your body feels by being held by him. Moaning out a heavy breath and the sounds that leave your mouth are music to his ears

His face is practically digging into you and your pitch begins to rise as you try to shove at his shoulders to pull his mouth away before you orgasm, but he only grips your ass and tugs you impossibly closer. Your thighs shake as you squeak out a drawn out moan, coating his face lightly with the small stream that left you. His pupils are blown out and he’s absolutely wrecked by the fact that you squirted.

Seonghwa stands to pick you up to place you back onto a more discreet area of the large balcony, shrugging his coat off to kiss you hard enough to bruise you. It’s brutal in a way that surprised you. Seonghwa had always striked you as the kind of man who’d do things soft and slow, and you’d often reprimand yourself whenever you’d fantasize about Seonghwa in morally grey positions. He sighs into your mouth and licks at your bottom lip, leaving open mouth kisses along your neck and digging his way to bite into your collarbone. A gasp leaves you as you arch towards him, the cold perking the buds of your breasts and Seonghwa groans when he realizes that you weren’t wearing a bra. He wastes no time to pull your dress down to bite the fat of your chest, leaving marks you’ll have to worry about later. You feel a hand crawling up your neck and up towards your mouth before you feel the texture of fabric slightly blocking your airway.

You realize he’s shoved your underwear into your mouth. Pushing your hips closer to him as you wrap your arms around his neck, Seonghwa fumbles with his belt and pulls himself out of his boxers. Your mouth salivates at the sight of such a pretty pink color on such a scary amount of girth and sizable length— it visibly throbs once Seonghwa realizes you’re staring at his very, very pretty cock. You gawk at the texture hitting your thigh that were equal parts silk and velvet.

He finds himself gravitating towards your neck but opts to clutch your nape and leans his forehead against yours as he lines himself before you.

You immediately feel like he’s split you open—mewling against the fabric stuffing your mouth and realize that he’s too far gone to be soft with you, but you needed this. You needed his bruising embrace. He uses one hand on your ass to guide and grind against you, using the flat of his pelvis to rub your clit. The sound of his thighs hitting between yours as he roughly pushed forward into you was positively sinful and you almost cry at the mental note.

You melt into a mindless puddle and the corner of the balcony you occupy surprisingly alone is filled with the sounds of Seonghwa’s occasional whining and grunts, paired with your high pitched stutters. Seonghwa turns you around to face the grand expanse of the surrounding gardens at the venue , and grabs your chiffon scarf to use as a makeshift leash—tugging at it so that your neck is pulled back an uncomfortable amount as a sudden wetness drips down your chin. Oh, you’re drooling.

Seonghwa laughs at your fucked out expression before mocking you coldly. “Oh angel, you look so stupid.”

He fucks you harder and you loudly cry out. Seonghwa hunches over your back and shoves four fingers into your already occupied mouth, pulling at the side as leverage to fuck into you faster.

“I’ve endured for years. Do you know how painful it was? Do you?” His pelvis bruises you as it bangs against you and the sound is so obscene you grow red in embarrassment. There’s no way someone hasn’t heard you two by now with the capacity of your luck.

“For three years, I’ve tried to rid myself of you. I’ve held other women night after night and failed day after day— did you know I vomited after each rendezvous? Without fail. Every. Single. Time. You’ve ruined me and I love you so much. I hate and abhor you for what you’ve done to me, unknowingly. I hate your fucking naivety. I hate your passiveness and I hate the thought of you ending each day in Yeosang’s arms when his love can’t hold a candle to mine. No, he may have everything else. He may be greater than me in many other ways, but he will never be able to love you as I do. What he gives you is not love.” He seethes, stilling inside of you the moment he felt your orgasm approaching.

“God, I hate you.” But you feel his shaking body as he’s progressively overwhelmed by the onslaught of emotions following his small confession. Despite his words, he presses his lips to your temple tenderly and his tears hit the back of your neck. Most of all, he hates that he now understands the ugliness of what Yeosang felt for you. He wanted ownership guised as companionship.

Seonghwa wanted to ruin you the same way you’d ruined him. He wanted to isolate you from the rest of the world and render you incapable of loving anyone else. He hated that he understood Yeosang’s senseless pursuits and that he couldn’t make love to you as softly as he would’ve in his boyhood. You’d changed him too much—he’d changed too much. The anguish of his desire sharpened him and the violence now accompanied his devotion, firmly planting itself in him. Gone was his softness, now replaced by the complexities of whatever texture his heart now carries. But it was you. It was always you. You were the cause of his softness, his hardening, his apprehension, his bitterness, and were the unchanging object of his love: you were his madonna and knelt at your figure in prayer every night—if prayers could be all consuming thoughts. He was a fool to think time would change anything, to dream of a world where he didn’t feel anything for you knowing that the reason he came today was to risk seeing you.

His figure leans its heavy weight onto your back as he clutches you into his arms, a small sob leaving his body “— but please let me say this to you directly at least once. You can forget all of what I say if I’m just a body to warm you for the night. Please, please love me too.” He didn’t want to release his hold of you and would willingly play the role of a boy-toy if need be, even if tomorrow his heart would pay the price.

You know that this was the point of no return—if you choose to accept Seonghwa, you would leave the only world you’d ever known. You cry without knowing exactly why— a part of you might’ve mourned the incoming loss of Yeosang or what this will cause him to become, and another part of you cried at the reunion with your heart.

You could only deny your love for Seonghwa for so long. “I have always loved you. Even when I couldn’t say it. The more I did, the harder it was for the phrase to leave me.” You arch an arm to cradle his head, softly brushing the ruffled strands just as you did the last time you saw him. A melancholic smile paints your face as you say this.

Seonghwa wraps his arms around your stomach, slowly pushing back and forth into you and says nothing in reply but he doesn’t need to— you could feel it in the air. He loves you just as much as he’d grown to hate you. Moving your hair to expose your back, he bites the back of your neck hard enough to draw blood and you squirm before your vision goes white. His hips stutter and you could feel his release fill you an obscene amount. His face falls onto the thick of your hair and begs through his heavy breaths so softly it sounds like a defeated whisper.

“Run away with me, Angel. I will only ask this once and if not, I pray we never meet again.” You languidly rise to pull your underwear from your both before wiping at the sides of your mouth. Softly grabbing his hand, you press a kiss against its back in the same manner he did when he’d first left you.

“Don’t ask, just take me away from here. Promise me you’ll never let me come back. Let’s never come back, Seonghwa.” You continue to speak after finding the bravery to warn him of the price he’d pay for taking you away. “—Seonghwa, will you sacrifice everything you have to do this? I have nothing to leave behind other than familiarity, but you…you have a life of your own making.” Apprehension is clear on your face. Yeosang won’t take your betrayals lightly and if it doesn’t turn into a full on manhunt— Yeosang will make sure that Seonghwa would never be able to step back into the high societies of the art industry. He’d essentially be blacklisted.

You, however? You’ve only ever had Yeosang and had nothing for most of your life up until you met him. There was no family or friend to leave behind. You were aware the Seonghwa was estranged from his own family anyway and it’s not like running away from the city meant he couldn’t see the people he cared for. Yet you knew that it’d be a good idea to run far from Yeosang, knowing both that he wasn’t an enemy you’d want a direct encounter with and the nature of his need for possession wasn’t something to be shaken off easily. Yeosang at his core was incredibly war-like and a fiery presence to behold—there was no way that he wouldn’t try to find you, even if he for some reason allowed you to slip away just once. He knew exactly what to say to you to make sure you came willingly too.

Seonghwa sluggishly buckles his belt with a small chuckle. “Wealth has never suited me and so long as I still have my hands, I will always create for the sake of creation—not recognition. But what about you? I’m afraid I won’t be able to sustain your lavish lifestyle even if I’m in good financial standing right now. Once I’m blacklisted… it might take only a few years for me to be a poor man again if I’m not too careful, but I’d say I’ve made a good amount so far—“ he kneels in front of you again and takes your hands in his.

“I won’t be able to gift you a chateau or buy you any new satin dresses as often (because I know you’re a woman of expensive taste) but I promise you that I will give you the larger portion of our shared meals and the shirt off of my back. I won’t complain if you hog the blanket on cold winter nights in a shoddy apartment (though this may be just a mental image for the sake of dramatics, you may just have to settle for a small house— or worse case scenario, an apartment) with a barely functional heater and I’ll give you anything I have to give you. But would you want to risk a life without opulence? If I can’t find work as an artist, I’ll find a way to provide for you.”

The smile on your face grows as he continues to ramble and you let out the loudest laugh you’ve heard from yourself in the last few years. “Well, I might not be too bad at being a career woman if I put my mind to it. I’ve never tried it… but maybe it’s not so bad.” His eyes practically bulge out of his head as his jaw drops

“Did you actually consider employment without vomiting?” You smack him lightly before fixing your dress. “Let’s go, Seonghwa.”

The twinkle of warmth in his eyes is disarming as he intertwines your hands together before walking back into the bustling gala—the same business going on in every corner as they had before you left. Some heads tilt questionably after registering the sight of your joined hands and you pick up speed. Chills go down your spine when you catch sight of how Yeosang’s figure goes completely still and Seonghwa begins to pick up the pace, tugging your hand as he weaves you through the crowd. Yeosang’s eyes are blank as he stares at you both, rising from his seat and following after.

You start running. Full stop. You shout at Seonghwa to pick up the pace and he bumps into a waiter hard enough for the poor man to fall and drop a large platter of Hors D’oeuvre’s. He pushes his legs to pump up the pace after throwing a severely apologetic “Ah man, I’m so sorry!”

When Seonghwa catches up to you, you push at the heavy doors of the ballroom and turn the corner that leads you through an art gallery near the entrance. God, this place is fucking huge— the expanse of the hallways stretch so far that your vision get blurry as you try to focus at the end of it, and the gallery is practically twisted into a maze-like structure. Not seeing Yeosang anywhere, you quickly throw off your heels and any sound from where you both stand echoes throughout the hallway. The music from the ballroom is muffled and dimmed and you almost relax before yelping at the sight of the devil himself. Grabbing Seonghwa’s right hand, you resume your distraught pace and dash.

Shit, he’s fucking fast. This was actually so scary and you whine at the amount of running you’re having to do. Seonghwa decides to heave you into his arms and cradles you to his chest as one would a baby, once he sees you get progressively exhausted. His hand pushes your head into the nape of his neck as he secures his hold the thighs you wrapped around his waist.

Despite the cool on Yeosang’s face, you know the man enough to know that he’s positively pissed. “When did you turn into such a bad girl, Y/N?” He shouts out in a playful tone and you hate how charmed you still feel at his approaches to psychological warfare.

You seriously pondered before replying “When you forgot to buy me Jimmy Choo’s the day of your engagement party.” While it was an honest reply, it was a reply you knew would get under his skin—he taught you mental politics himself, after all.

He rolls his eyes and huffs in exhaustion before smiling wide “Ugh, you’re such a fucking brat. I’ll deal with you later.” He draws out ‘such a fucking brat’ intentionally groaning into it for the sake of false comedy. Of course he’d try to play into the familiarity of you all. “—Seonghwa, are you really willing to risk your career over this? Come on man, I’ll set you up with a pretty girl.” Yeosang’s panting by now, throwing his head back and lowly throwing a passive comment on how ‘long these fucking hallways are’ “How about my fiancé? Since you seem to enjoy running away with what’s mine.” He smiles with such convincing confidence but he’s in fact, not in a jolly mood

Seonghwa’s long legs were an advantage to the cliche chase scene that could’ve been ripped straight out of a romance novel if it weren’t for the fact that it felt like you were being chased by a stone cold killer with the way Yeosang’s eyes flickered with pure, unadulterated rage. “Yeosang, let me go. Please.”

A conflicted expression slowly dawned on his face but just as he opened his mouth to reply and squeezed his eyes at the burn of his body the more he pushed himself to run—Seonghwa already made it to the entrance and closed the glass door behind him as he ran to the parking lot. Mentally thanking himself for finding a parking spot so close to the front of the venue.

He practically throws you into the car and sheepishly apologizes when you bump your head on the flap of the overhead mirror, when Yeosang stops in front of the parking lot needing to catch his breath. His hands were firmly planted on his knees and his tone is broken and hot when he shouts to you “What have I never given you?!” His expression is the most honest and raw he’d given you all this evening. “Anything you’d ever wanted has always fallen onto your lap, I made you the perfect muse. Y/N, I made you. So why are you leaving me? It’s always been us.” His gaze crumples in confusion, genuinely distraught and unaware to the inner turmoil that’s been gutting you for a while now. Oh, your poor and prideful Yeosang. Maybe you’ve played your part too well and were just as cruel as he. You were his counterpart for fifteen years, after all. This year would’ve marked the anniversary of Yeosang being in your life longer than the time you spent not having him around. You fleetingly recall being sixteen when you’d first met him and at the time, he was an incredibly rebellious and gifted eighteen year old boy born into a life of wealth. It almost felt unfair that he was a genius of his craft.

You curl into yourself as the sobs leaving your body at the sight of Yeosang’s confusion are not within your control. Nodding at Seonghwa to start the engine, you only roll down the window to give him your final answer. You gazed at him with a profound loss in your eyes, knowing that this will hopefully be the last time you’ll ever see him. The rest of your life will be dedicated to running from him until he finally releases you completely.

For a moment you soften, defeated.

“The only thing you were never able to give me was freedom, Yeosang. I want to be human. I can’t live as an object anymore.” You break a little more as the words leave you and Seonghwa drives away into the thick night. You turn in your seat completely to gaze at Yeosang’s figure for as long as you possibly could grasping at the shoulders of your seat with clenched hands. His facial expression was obscured by the shadow of his bangs falling into his eyes—and alas, his beloved silhouette disappeared behind a wall of concrete as the light turned green.

When you arrive at the driveway, you run into the chateau to grab as many of your things as you could with Seonghwa tossing you the dresses he loved most on you and various toiletries. You couldn’t find it in yourself to take any of the extravagant gifts from Yeosang with you, especially the jewelry. They were his version of branding you. What you and Seonghwa did decide to take were a couple bottles of expensive wine that Yeosang forgot about and wouldn’t realize were gone.

You laugh through the tears as you start to fling blankets, pillows, and anything soft and safe enough to throw at one another. Feathers litter the floor and some remain seemingly suspended in the air. Your stomach aches from laughter when you realize how messed up Seonghwa’s hair had gotten after the chase.

The two of you danced in the opulence one last time, before Seonghwa grabbed your hand.

“Time to go, Angel. We’ve gotta leave before Yeo comes back.”

He’s throwing your duffle bags over his shoulders as he skips down the large steps of the chateau, hopping back into his car almost boyishly in his giddiness. He smiles big at you and you find yourself returning it out of reflex, and he turns to face you to gauge your reaction to the top of his car roof rolling down as he presses a button on his car. He laughs when you squeal girlishly at the sight, clapping your hands with sheer delight. “I bought this thinking about you. I know how much you like driving with the windows down, even in the winter, and I love how your hair looks when the wind blows… so it’s a win-win.”

How can everything change in three hours?

You’ll think about that later.

For now, you’ll listen to Seonghwa sing along with the radio and drive on the endless highway, leaving nothing behind.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜

AN: I love building my characters to be equal parts idiotic and mysterious LOL part two will have a little more plot as we explore the past (and both of their relationships with yeosang!) and newly formed relationship dynamics but also lots of the boombayah. i was listening to babylon by tamino and it was peeeeerfect for these two, especially the lyrics

“baring the rot in your gardens and i’ll be coating my treasures in fire so none of the damned may prize them. they’re all i leave behind—oh were they even mine? so is it our time that’s hollow or is it my chest? why does my heart not follow her to the end?”

anyways, i’ll probably post a couple of mood boards and a small playlist i made for the series later! please like, reblog, and comment what you think about the chapter out you’d like to.

i also released two new series, for the thrill of the hunt and devils catch—feel free to check them out if you like supernatural/horror fics! :)

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sophie-hatter-jenkins · 3 months ago

Note

Hello <3

I love LOVED evolution and i always checkout your rec list !!

Do you have any recommendations for extremely angsty (rated m or t) hinny?

Just delicious angst- which obviously ends with them together- it could be emotionally unavailable harry, or FWB or anything really.

Lots of love <33

Hi, Anon!

Thanks so much for the ask, and for saying lovely things about Evolution, I am so glad you enjoyed it!

Sorry for the delay in replying, while I was putting this list together I found myself getting very distracted reminding myself why I love all these fics.

Anyway, let's get on with what you came for, shall we?

Welcome to Sophie’s Hinny Fic Recs: Angsty Edition!

You specifically asked for T or M rated fics, but there are a few here that are rated E. I’ve included them because 1) they’re great, 2) some of the M rated ones are no less explicit and 3) angsty-Hinny really can’t seem to keep it in their pants. Anyway - I’ve marked which is which, feel free to use your discretion on which links you click.

I’ve got a bunch of completed fics for you, and also some great WIPs, if you want to hop on to those with me!

But let’s start with the Completed ones:

Castles - @pebblysand - Canon-compliant Post DH - rated M

God, I find it hard to explain how much I love Castles. It’s just extraordinary - and certainly angsty! Hinny is core, but, there is SO MUCH MORE here. Mind the tags, there is some difficult (though sensitively handled) subject matter here.

The Potters and the Weasleys - @goodlifewrites - Hogwarts magical AU - rated G

Enemies to lovers done really well, which is hard for Hinny, plus extra bonus points for being Jily Lives, basically my catnip.

Knowing Where To Look - @ala-baguette - Canon-compliant Post DH - rated T

Hinny are not the focus here, but they're definitely in angsty mode and it hits just right. Plus it’s a rollocking good mystery, super-atmospheric and a really interesting POV.

If you never bleed you’re never gonna grow - mp143 - Post-Hogwarts canon-divergent - not rated, but I’d say definitely M

I recently rediscovered this fic, and while it’s not the angstiest on this list, there’s plenty of pining and soul-searching on show, plus (magical aspects aside) one of the most true-to-life pregnancy stories I’ve read.

Off-Kilter - @remedialpotions - Canon-compliant Post DH - rated M

Interesting first-person Harry POV, as Hinny struggle to sort themselves out post-battle. You’ll want to go straight on and read the sequel, August, too.

Too Close - Scared Of Clouds - Magical AU - rated T

Bodyguard fic, in which Auror Ginny is assigned to protect an extremely uncooperative and reclusive Harry.

persist and resist the temptation to ask you - @nuatthebeach - Muggle AU - rated M

Well, you didn’t think I was going to do a rec list without including it, did you?? Seriously, I am on an absolute mission to make more people read this!

such a beautiful blank but smooth it - Pocketfullof, smutty_claus - Groundhog Day/Fairy Tale-inspired magical AU - rated E

Ginny is doomed to try and win Harry’s heart, over and over, in just one day. It’s such an interesting premise, with much angst for poor old Ginny.

In Case Of Emergency - lilyevansJan30 - Magical AU - rated M

Auror Harry and Quidditch Player Ginny find themselves in an exes-with-benefits situation, which is absolutely fine, right up until it isn’t.

And now for the WIPs!

This list would absolutely not be complete without including the undisputed queen of Hinny Angst, the marvellous @takeariskao3, and two absolutely top notch angsty WIPs

Already Gone - takearisk - Amnesia fic - rated M

Ginny wakes up in St. Mungo’s following the battle at the Department of Mysteries … or so she thinks.

The Path From You - takearisk - Magical AU - rated M

Angst-drenched exes are forced together when Auror Harry is assigned to Quidditch Pro Ginny’s case.

Beasts - @whinlatter - Post-DH canon-compliant - rated M

One of my very favourite takes on Ginny, in her final year at Hogwarts after the end of the war.

you don't know what's lost 'til you find it - mp143 - Magical AU - not rated, but I’d say definitely M - features a major character death

Told in two alternating timelines - how Hinny got together in the wake of an unimaginable tragedy, and how they reconnect after years co-parenting their daughter strictly as friends.

Whelve - @seriouslysam8 - Magical AU - rated M

You want angst? I’ll show you angst! An older Hinny deals with the return of their eldest son 11 years after being kidnapped as a young child. Devastatingly awesome.

#hinny #hinny recs #hinny angst #harry potter #ginny weasley #asked and answered

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yunholic-jongholic · 4 months ago

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Bound to the Bosses [Part 5] | C.JH x Reader x J.YH

SUMMARY | At the age of 20, you surrendered your freedom to a former mafia gang in exchange for a secure life and all your needs met. You pledged your existence to two of the members, Choi Jongho and Jeong Yunho, who managed the leading underground strip club and took you under their wing. They both permit you to perform on weekend nights, but once the lights go out and the workday ends, you belong solely to both of them.

PAIRINGS | Jongho x Fem!Reader x Yunho

RATING | Mature, 18+, NSFW, MDNI!!!

CONTENT WARNINGS | Mean Dom!Jongho, Mean Dom!Yunho, Strip Club Setting, NSFW, SMUT, ANGST, Explicit Content, Trauma Bonding, Heavy Alcohol Consumption, Back Story Mentioning, Unprotected Sex (Don't Do It...), Marking, Begging, Possessive Yunho, Cursing, Creampie, (I am missing some, I will come back), (A/N: I don't think she ever comes back and edits these...)

WORD COUNT | 4.8k

AUTHOR NOTE | This first starts with yunho smut, and yeah. please keep in mind there is actual angst and trauma in this chapter. I have no idea what next chapter will be, it will be a while until I upload the next one because I have 2 paths on where to go and right now, I am unsure LMAO.

TAG LIST | @mingisleftnipple @yusalterego

•

The loud boom rattled through the quiet room, jolting you awake.

Your breath hitched as your eyes shot open, heart pounding against your chest. But as you blinked through the darkness, you quickly realized—

It was just thunder.

Rain pattered against the windows; the sound steady, rhythmic. You exhaled in relief, pressing a hand to your chest as you tried to calm your racing heart.

For a moment, you just sat there, your body still heavy with exhaustion, watching the droplets slide down the glass. The city outside was dark, but occasional flashes of lightning illuminated the streets, casting eerie shadows against the walls.

The silence was almost too peaceful.

You sat up in bed, staring at the rain-covered window, your mind unable to settle. Was Yunho actually going to come back?

The thought lingered, making your stomach twist with something you couldn’t quite name.

Instead of waiting, you decided to find out for yourself.

Slipping out of bed, you padded down the dimly lit hallway, your bare feet barely making a sound against the wooden floor. You didn’t hesitate—you never knocked when it came to him.

You pushed open his door, stepping inside without warning.

"Yunho?"

The sight in front of you made you pause.

He was sitting in his chair, slouched slightly, a nearly empty bottle clutched in one hand. His gaze was hazy, but sharp as ever—until he saw you.

His eyes widened slightly just before he coughed, sputtering on his drink as if he hadn’t expected to be caught.

"Shit," he muttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Ever heard of knocking?"

You ignored the question, stepping closer, your eyes narrowing slightly at the bottle in his hand. This wasn’t just casual drinking.

Yunho exhaled, running a hand through his hair as he studied you. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice lower, quieter now.

And for the first time tonight, he wasn’t teasing.

There was something else in his eyes—something heavier. Something you hadn’t seen before.

Your voice barely came out as a whisper. "I thought… you wanted to see me later after we did it. I just wanted to know if you were okay…"

Yunho’s reaction was immediate.

He stood up from his chair, his movements slightly sluggish but still calculated. His towering frame loomed over you within seconds, closing the distance between you.

The moment he spoke, you caught it—the heavy scent of alcohol on his breath. It was strong, intense, burning. He had downed nearly the entire bottle by himself.

"Why?" he exhaled, his voice husky, laced with bitterness. "Did you want to do it with me again? Are you that needy?"

You stiffened.

His words weren’t teasing. They weren’t playful, like before.

They were cutting.

Yunho’s eyes were clouded, but there was something else behind them—something dark, something hurt.

This wasn’t just about you coming to find him.

This was about him. Whatever was in his mind, whatever was eating away at him, the alcohol had loosened the barriers, and now he was lashing out.

You swallowed hard, keeping your voice steady. "Yunho… why are you drinking so much?"

He scoffed, shaking his head as if the question was ridiculous. "What does it matter?"

"It does matter," you pressed. "You’re clearly not okay."

Yunho exhaled harshly, running a hand down his face before locking eyes with you again. This time, his smirk was gone. The confidence, the cocky attitude—all of it stripped away.

And for the first time, you realized…

Yunho wasn’t just drunk.

He was drowning in something you couldn’t see.

Yunho’s grip tightened around your face, his breath hot against your lips as he groaned, his frustration spilling over.

"Fine. If you're that needy, we can do it."

Before you could even react, he pulled you into a kiss—rough, desperate, messy. The taste of alcohol lingered on his tongue, the scent of bitterness still clinging to him.

The suddenness of it made you stumble, your balance slipping as you tumbled forward.

"Shit—" Yunho muttered as he tried to catch you, but he was far too unsteady himself.

The both of you crashed onto the floor, a breathless tangle of limbs, your body hovering above his.

Yunho let out a low chuckle, his hands instinctively gripping your waist as if steadying both of you. But despite the teasing smile, his grip on you wasn’t playful—it was firm, possessive, like he didn’t want to let go.

He leaned up, capturing your lips again, softer this time but still laced with a frustration that hadn’t disappeared.

But even through the haze of alcohol and tension, something about this felt off.

Something about him felt off.

You pulled back slightly, your breath mingling with his as you searched his gaze. His eyes were dark, unfocused, but behind them was something else—something deeper than just want.

"Yunho…" you murmured, watching as his smirk faltered for just a second.

For a brief moment, you wondered—

Was he kissing you because he wanted to?

Or was he trying to escape something else entirely?

His hands try to pull your clothes off. You grabbed his hands softly putting them down as you tried to speak.

You looked up at him, stunned. The weight of his body pressing you down, his hands pinning your wrists above your head—this wasn’t Yunho being playful, or cocky, or even possessive like before.

This was different.

This was angry.

"Yunho… please talk to me. What is going on? This isn’t like you…" you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

His jaw clenched, his grip tightening just slightly. His dark eyes flickered with something unreadable, something almost pained.

Then, his expression hardened.

"You didn’t come into my room to chat with me," he growled, his voice low, sharp, cutting. "You only came in here because you’re too needy and need me or Jongho to always pleasure you."

The words stung.

You stared up at him in shock, your heart twisting—not just at his accusation, but at the bitterness behind it.

This wasn’t about you.

This was about him.

Something was wrong, something deeper than just his drinking, deeper than his possessiveness.

"Yunho… why are you saying this?" you murmured, your voice careful now. You didn’t struggle against his hold, didn’t fight back, just looked at him.

His lips parted slightly like he wanted to say something. Anything.

But he didn’t.

He just stared at you, his frustration wavering, his eyes flickering between anger and irritation.

Yunho grabbed your waist and lifted you up as he sat on the bed with you on his lap.

"Fine! if you won't talk now, you will have to after this." You huffed out as he started undressing you.

Yunho’s hands moved, roaming, his touch lingering before he shifted, gripping your jaw firmly. His fingers pressed just enough to tilt your face up, forcing you to meet his gaze.

His dark eyes were unfocused, clouded by something more than just alcohol—something deeper, something broken.

"I need another drink," he muttered, his voice rough and distant.

Before you could respond, he released you, reaching for the nearly empty bottle beside him. He tipped it back, chugging the remaining liquor like it was the only thing keeping him steady.

Some of the alcohol dripped from the corner of his mouth, sliding down his jaw, but he didn’t care.

You just watched, your chest tightening, your concern outweighing everything else.

"Yunho…" you started, your voice softer now, less questioning—more worried.

But he didn’t look at you.

He just sat there for a moment, bottle still in hand, staring at the ceiling as if it held answers, he couldn’t find anywhere else.

You sighed. Yunho went to unzip his pants as he left the bottle on the corner of the bed. He was already ready, lining up his tip against your already heated and wet cunt, before pushing himself straight in. You gasped at the feeling.

"Yunho!" You whined out but he immediately places one hand over your mouth as he started thrusting in and out quickly. You moaned into his hand. His other hand gripped your waist pulling you close to his chest. You felt sensitive and your body was trembling as he continued.

"Shit." He cursed, attacking your shoulder, kissing and nipping at it as he thrusts upwards into you.

"Yunho please!" You moan into his hand gripping his arm. He moves his hands down squeezing you every chance he gets. You swayed your head back onto his shoulder, moaning and letting him take you.

The grip of Yunho’s hands tightened, his nails digging into your thighs and hips, holding you firmly in place.

"I only want you to myself," he growled, his voice low, raw, possessive.

Your breath hitched at the intensity in his eyes—dark, desperate, dangerous.

His fingers pressed deeper, claiming you, his grip bruising as if he was afraid you’d slip away.

"Forget Jongho. Forget this messy household and everyone here." His voice turned rougher, filled with something more than just desire—something almost pleading.

"Just run away with me. Let me keep you all to myself."

His teeth sank into your skin, sharp enough to make you whimper, a shiver running through you at the sensation. Your body reacted instinctively, rolling against him, the heat between you undeniable.

But behind his possessiveness, behind the way he held onto you like you were the only thing keeping him sane—

There was fear.

Yunho wasn’t just being territorial. He wasn’t just staking a claim.

He was terrified of losing you.

And that scared you more than anything else.

Very soon you felt Yunho thrust in harder last few times before coming inside. You moaned at the feeling, and he smirked caressing your body. You started breathing heavily.

Yunho’s grip on you remained tight, his arms locking around your waist as if he couldn’t let go. Your bodies were sticky with sweat, his breath ragged as he pressed his forehead against your shoulder.

His chest rose and fell heavily, matching your own uneven breathing. For a moment, neither of you moved, the room thick with heat, tension, and something unspoken.

Then, you pushed yourself up, shifting your weight to break free from his hold.

"Finally, if we’re done, I need to talk with you," you said, your voice softer now, but still firm. "But first, I need you to drink water—not alcohol."

Yunho barely had time to react before you gently pried yourself from his grip, making him fall back onto the bed with a quiet grunt.

He lay there for a moment, blinking up at you, his chest still rising and falling from exertion. His expression was unreadable—somewhere between exhaustion, amusement, and something far more complicated.

His lips parted slightly as if to protest, but when he saw the concern in your eyes, something in his gaze flickered.

He knew.

Knew that you weren’t just bossing him around. Knew that you weren’t about to let this go.

With a heavy sigh, he dragged a hand down his face, still breathless. "Tch… fine."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you quietly slipped your clothes back on. The night had been exhausting, emotionally and physically, but you weren’t done just yet.

Yunho needed to drink—and more importantly, he needed to talk.

Stepping out of the room, you made your way to the kitchen, filling two glasses with water. The coolness of the glass against your fingers was grounding, helping you recenter yourself.

But when you returned to his room, your frustration spiked.

Yunho was already passed out.

You stopped in the doorway, staring at him sprawled across the bed, his breathing slow and steady. His face was relaxed now, the usual tension gone, his body completely surrendered to exhaustion and alcohol.

A deep sigh left your lips as you shook your head. Of course.

Walking over, you set the two glasses of water on his nightstand before picking up the now completely empty bottle. You turned it over in your hand, frowning.

How much had he even drunk before you showed up?

You tossed the bottle into the trash with a quiet clunk, then turned back toward him, arms crossed.

What the hell is going on with you, Yunho?

You didn’t have the energy to wake him now, but this—his drinking, his possessiveness, his sudden desperation—this wasn’t just going to be ignored.

So, for now, you exhaled and grabbed a blanket from the edge of the bed, gently draping it over him.

Then, without a word, you turned off the dim light and walked out, letting him sleep.

The storm outside hadn’t let up.

You sat in Yunho’s chair, arms crossed, your eyes trained on him as he remained sprawled across the bed. His body was still, his breathing steady, but his expression was slightly tense—even in sleep.

You had been waiting.

Waiting for him to wake up.

Waiting for answers.

Another loud boom of thunder rattled through the sky, shaking the windows slightly.

Yunho’s eyes shot open.

A low groan escaped his lips as he stirred, his body shifting under the covers. He blinked up at the ceiling, his brows furrowing as the weight of consciousness settled in.

"Ugh…" he grumbled, his voice groggy, thick with exhaustion and the remnants of alcohol.

You leaned forward slightly, watching him as he ran a hand over his face, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He had no idea you were there yet.

Then, as if sensing your presence, he stilled.

Slowly, his gaze drifted toward you, his eyes still slightly unfocused.

You raised a brow, tilting your head. "Good morning, sunshine."

Yunho groaned again, letting his head fall back onto the pillow. "Shit..."

"Yeah," you muttered. "We need to talk." You got up and sat on the bed next to him.

You leaned forward in the chair, your fingers gripping the armrests as you studied Yunho.

"What is going on with you, Yunho?" Your voice was softer this time, but firm, laced with genuine concern.

He didn’t answer.

The only response you got was silence.

His jaw tensed, his gaze shifting away from you as he lay there, still reeking of alcohol. The scent was strong, a harsh reminder of how much he had drowned himself in it last night.

You exhaled, trying to keep your frustration in check.

"Yunho, please." You softened your tone, standing up and walking toward the edge of the bed. "I’m worried about you."

At your words, his fingers twitched against the sheets, but he still refused to look at you.

Instead, he turned his head to the side, his jaw clenching even tighter, as if physically stopping himself from speaking.

Your chest ached at the sight.

This wasn’t the Yunho you were used to. The Yunho who was always so loud, so confident, so in control.

Right now, he looked tired.

Not just from the alcohol, not just from the night before—but from something deeper.

Something he wasn’t telling you.

You let out a quiet breath, watching him carefully before reaching out, your fingers gently brushing against his hand. Slowly, you placed your palm over his, softly caressing it, tracing slow, comforting circles with your thumb.

For a moment, you thought he wouldn’t react. That he would keep shutting you out.

But then—

"I’m stressed…" he finally admitted, his voice low, defeated.

You nodded, letting him know you heard him, letting him know that you were here.

His fingers twitched slightly under your touch, but he didn’t pull away.

"I don’t know why I chose this lifestyle…" he murmured, his voice quieter now, almost uncertain. "Why I forced myself to join and become a part of this mess…"

The rawness in his voice made your chest tighten.

He wasn’t just tired. He was lost.

Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around his arm, leaning your head against his shoulder, offering him the only comfort you could.

Yunho’s muscles tensed for a second, like he wasn’t used to being held like this—like he wasn’t used to being comforted at all.

Then, slowly, he relaxed.

You shifted, looking up at him, and that’s when you saw it.

His eyes locked onto yours, and for the first time, they weren’t guarded.

They weren’t filled with teasing arrogance, or possessiveness, or frustration.

They were heavy weighed down by something so deep, so buried, that it had nowhere else to go.

And in that moment, you realized—

He wanted to cry.

But he couldn’t.

Not because he didn’t feel it, but because he had spent too long forcing himself to be strong.

Your grip on his arm tightened slightly, letting him know it was okay.

That he didn’t have to be strong right now.

That you weren’t going anywhere.

Yunho's voice was raw, the weight of his confession settling into the space between you.

"I hate how I got into this lifestyle..." he muttered, his words slurred slightly from the lingering effects of alcohol, but his meaning was crystal clear.

"I wish I never chose this, and I could go back to where I was normal still."

You watched him, your heart aching at the regret in his voice.

The Yunho you had always known—confident, reckless, untouchable—wasn't the man sitting in front of you right now.

This Yunho was tired.

Worn down by the choices he had made, by the life he had built for himself.

By the weight of it all.

You tightened your grip around his arm, resting your head against him again. "Then why don’t you leave it?" you asked softly. "Why not just… walk away?"

Yunho let out a bitter chuckle, his fingers curling into the sheets. "It’s not that simple."

You knew that.

You knew that once someone was in this world, leaving wasn’t easy. Maybe it wasn’t even possible.

But hearing Yunho say it, hearing the trapped sound in his voice, made it feel so much heavier.

"You don’t have to do this alone," you murmured, glancing up at him.

He didn’t respond right away, just stared ahead, his jaw clenched as if forcing himself to stay composed.

Then, finally—

"I know."

Yunho shifted slightly, leaning his head back against the headboard. His expression was unreadable, but there was a weight in his eyes—a story waiting to be told.

You hesitated before speaking, careful with your words. "So… what made you choose this lifestyle?" You exhaled softly. "If you don’t mind talking now…"

For a moment, he didn’t respond.

Then, he finally spoke.

"Hongjoong."

Your brows furrowed slightly as you listened.

"I met him in college. Well… we all met each other in college. Except Mingi—he and I were childhood friends."

His gaze lowered to where your hands still touched, his fingers twitching slightly.

"We were really poor. Most of us didn’t have families to fall back on. And the ones who did? Their parents kicked them out after graduation. So we had to survive on our own."

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling in.

Yunho sighed, shaking his head. "Hongjoong was the first one to suggest it. He said we should learn how to take over and become a gang. That if the world wouldn’t give us a way to make a living, we’d make one ourselves."

You sat in silence, absorbing his words.

It wasn’t just about money.

It wasn’t about power, or thrill-seeking, or some twisted desire for control.

It was about survival.

They hadn’t just chosen this life.

They had needed it.

And suddenly, Yunho’s frustration, his drinking, his exhaustion—it all made so much more sense.

Yunho's voice was steadier now, as if talking about the past grounded him.

"Hongjoong was chosen as leader, by everyone. Popular vote." He exhaled through his nose. "Seonghwa was his second in power. They’re close—like, really close. We always considered them as… our father and mother figures, in a way."

You nodded, taking in every word, your fingers still absentmindedly tracing patterns against his arm.

"Me and Mingi? We were usually the ones guarding the place. Lookouts. I guess." His lip twitched slightly at that, but there was no real amusement behind it. "We did the dirty work. We handled threats before they even became threats."

He glanced toward the window, his fingers tapping against the sheets absentmindedly.

"Yeosang and Wooyoung, though? They worked together on the inside. The smarts. The spies."

You tilted your head slightly. "Spies?"

Yunho nodded. "Wooyoung was great at pretending to be people he wasn’t. He could slip in anywhere—get information, make deals, charm his way through places that would’ve thrown the rest of us out on sight. And Yeosang? He was the one pulling the strings from the background. Planning every move before it even happened."

You swallowed, realizing how much thought had gone into their survival. This wasn’t just some reckless group of guys playing gangster.

This was strategy.

"And Jongho?" you asked softly.

Yunho’s gaze darkened slightly. "Jongho was different."

Your brows furrowed, sensing the shift in his tone. "How?"

Yunho sighed, rubbing his temple. "Jongho and San were the ones who got their hands the dirtiest."

You felt a shiver run down your spine. The enforcer. The one who did what had to be done.

"He didn’t complain. He didn’t hesitate. When something needed to be handled, he took care of it. No questions asked." Yunho looked down at his hands. "That’s why when he got taken… it shook all of us. Because if even he could be taken down—what did that mean for the rest of us?"

Silence filled the room for a long moment.

You let Yunho's words settle, processing the weight of what he had shared.

This wasn’t just a gang. This wasn’t just a dangerous lifestyle they chose for fun.

This was a family.

A family built out of necessity.

A family that had no choice but to fight to survive.

Yunho’s words hung heavy in the air, thick with raw honesty.

"The night that guy came in to talk with Jongho about you… I didn’t trust him." His voice was quieter now, more controlled, but you could hear the weight behind it.

"I was afraid he would hurt you, and I wouldn’t be there to protect you."

Your breath hitched.

Your heart pounded harder against your chest, not expecting that confession.

He wasn’t just possessive. He wasn’t just staking a claim.

He was afraid of losing you.

Your lips parted slightly, searching his face for any sign of hesitation—but there was none.

Yunho meant what he said.

You swallowed, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. "So you do care about me…" you murmured, locking eyes with him.

Yunho didn’t move, didn’t speak—he just stared at you, his dark gaze unreadable.

Your chest tightened at his silence, but instead of pulling away, you slowly reached forward, placing your hand over his chest.

His heart was racing.

Just as fast as yours.

You hesitated for only a moment before closing the space between you, leaning into him, your body drawn toward his warmth.

Yunho’s breath hitched this time, his hands instinctively twitching at his sides, as if debating whether or not to pull you in.

But he didn’t stop you.

He just let you come closer.

The moment your lips brushed against his, the tension that had been building between you melted.

Your kiss was slow, gentle—a stark contrast to the usual power struggle between you both. But this time, there was no battle, no teasing or taunting. Just the raw, unspoken truth between you.

Finally, Yunho gave in.

He pulled you against him, his strong arms wrapping around your waist as you straddled his lap. His grip was firm, holding you close like he needed you there, like letting you go wasn’t an option.

Between kisses, you whispered softly, "I want you to know, I care about you too…"

Yunho stilled slightly at your words, his breath hitching as if he wasn’t expecting you to say it out loud.

But before you could dwell on the moment, reality started to settle back in.

"I need to go take a shower," you murmured against his lips. "But I can come back and talk with you again after."

You tried to shift away, but his hands tightened around your waist, holding you in place.

A shiver ran down your spine at the strength in his grip. He wasn’t ready to let you go just yet.

"Yunho, please… I need to take a shower," you whispered again, your breath uneven.

Instead of answering, he leaned forward, capturing your lips once more in a slow, lingering kiss.

Then, with a quiet huff, he finally loosened his hold, letting you go.

"Fine…" he muttered, his tone reluctant, watching as you slid off his lap.

You shot him a small smile before slipping out of the room, making your way back to yours.

The moment you stepped into the warm shower, the water washing over you, you let out a deep breath.

You weren’t sure where things stood with Yunho now.

You had barely stepped out of your room, your hair still damp from the shower, when you spotted them.

Jongho and Hongjoong.

They were speaking in hushed voices, their tones serious—almost warning.

You should’ve kept walking.

You should’ve just gone straight to Yunho’s room like you planned.

But then—

"I think you and Yunho are becoming too soft for Y/N..."

Hongjoong’s words froze you in place.

Your fingers hovered over Yunho’s doorknob, but suddenly, you couldn’t bring yourself to open it.

"If we enter back into this lifestyle…" Hongjoong continued, his voice laced with disappointment. "Y/N can’t be making you too soft for her. You’re both grown men, and she’s making you weak."

Your breath caught in your throat.

Weak?

Was that what Hongjoong saw you as? A distraction? A liability?

Your chest tightened, a sinking feeling settling into your stomach.

"I know…" Jongho sighed after a long pause. "I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting."

You swallowed hard, fingers curling into a fist as the weight of their conversation settled over you.

Jongho was apologizing for caring about you.

And Yunho—

What would he say if he were standing there?

Would he fight back? Would he agree?

You felt your chest tighten, the ache spreading through you as Jongho’s words echoed in your head.

He was apologizing—not for something he did wrong, but for caring about you.

Neither he nor Yunho had ever outright said they cared, but in their actions, in their possessiveness, in the way they held onto you—it had been there.

And now, here was Jongho, practically taking it back.

Like it was a mistake.

Your fingers twitched over Yunho’s doorknob, but the weight of their conversation pressed against you like an invisible force, keeping you frozen in place.

You couldn’t do it.

You couldn’t face Yunho now.

Not when Hongjoong’s words still lingered in your head. "You’re both grown men, and she’s making you weak."

With a deep inhale, you turned away from Yunho’s room, ignoring the stinging sensation behind your eyes as you walked straight to your own.

You stepped inside, shutting the door behind you—

And slammed it.

The bang echoed through the hallway.

You didn’t care.

You locked the door immediately, leaning against it as you exhaled shakily. Your heart pounded, frustration, sadness, and confusion all swirling together in your chest.

You didn’t know what you were expecting.

You just knew it wasn’t this.

Tears streamed down your face, hot and unstoppable.

Your entire body trembled, the weight of realization settling deep in your chest like a stone, heavy and suffocating.

They never cared about you.

Why the fuck would they?

You were just someone they owned. Someone they let live here in exchange for whatever they wanted from you.

This whole time, you had thought there was something more—that maybe, beneath the possessiveness, beneath the way they held onto you so tightly, there was a real connection.

But no.

It was never about you.

It was about control.

Their damn possessiveness wasn’t out of care. It wasn’t because they cherished you.

It was because they were greedy.

They didn’t want to lose their favorite toy.

That was all you were.

An object they could keep playing with.

A distraction that Hongjoong saw as a weakness.

You sat there, completely still, lost in the spiraling thoughts running through your mind.

This life you had thrown yourself into, the only life you had known for years—

It was crumbling around you.

And for the first time, you weren’t sure if you could keep pretending it wasn’t.

•

A/N: ... (I got nothing) LMAO

E/N: Anyone want boba?

#ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #jongho fanfic #yunho fanfic #yunho scenarios #yunho smut #yunho x reader #ateez yunho #ateez hard hours #ateez hard thoughts

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cherryredstars · 2 years ago

Note

Heyyyy Cherry! I was wondering if you could PLEASEEEEE do a pastor Miguel x afab reader! I would absolutely love to see an innocent doll like reader get tainted by the supposedly holy pastor 😩 Xoxo

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Unholy Use of a Church, Unholy use of Holy Water, Penetrative Sex, Slight Praise,

Summary: He tells you you’re his angel sent from Heaven.

A/N: This is purely a work of fiction and I do NOT support the unholy use or disrespect of any place of worship and its corresponding religion.

Word Count: 770 (Not Edited)

You needed help.

You needed guidance. A soft, gentle hand to grasp and lead you back on to the path you strayed from. A confused lamb in need of a wise shepherd. A girl in need of her pastor.

He was so gentle with you. Had pulled you close and whispered soft reassurance in your ears. He could help you, he had said- preached- to you. Had told you that you had come to the right place, that he knew how you had to repent. How you could please the Lord. You had thought nothing of it when he had guided you away from the confession booth and towards the front of the church to the altar. Merely blinked at him as his hand trailed up your arm, over your shoulder, and to the zipper of your dress.

It was sickening, how your voice filled up the empty church as it echoed off the pillars and stained glass. It morphed together, creating a harmony that sang back to the both of you as Miguel held you down. You tried to muffle the next moan in your arms, pressing your forehead against the wood of the altar. It was humiliating, having your white dress pooling around your ankles as Pastor Miguel thrusted into you. It was shameful, sinful, but it felt so good.

Another moan leaves you as he shifts, pressing you further onto the altar. The cold wood makes your nipples harden, gasping as his hand follows the dip of your spine. It truly felt like he was worshiping your body. Kissing every beauty mark and curve along your back and shoulders. Another breathy moan floats out of your mouth as his warm tongue licks up your skin.

You press back into Miguel, forced to when his hand comes around and grasps at your neck. It forces your head back, looking at him with dazed eyes. Your lashes keep fluttering, mouth wide open as you whine. His thrusts are continuous, unending and constant. From the new angle, you can feel him hitting your cervix. The wet squelching everytime he bottoms out is the perfect background track to your moaning.

“Sound so beautiful f’me, ángel. Singing just for me, yeah?”

You nod weakly, mewling as his thumb starts playing with your lower lip. You’re left completely surprised when his body shifts lightly, and a second later water is poured into your mouth. You’re forced to drink it down with his hand at your throat. When he lets go, you sputter and cough as you fall back onto the altar. You take heaving breaths as you try to breathe properly, eyes watering as you watch Miguel place down an empty bottle of Holy Water. Your throat burns slightly from the salt.

Your nails try to carve into the altar, instead clutching onto the delicate cloth on it. Miguel bends forward, his front pressed onto your back as his hand glides down to your clit. It makes you jump, gasping at the sudden stimulation. He’s off of you again, another bottle clutched into his hand. He places it next to you, right into your line of sight. Your whole body begins to shake as you near your orgasm, your hand reaching up to grasp onto the bottle. You hold it tight in your hand, worried its going to explode with how strongly you clutch to it.

With a few more thrusts and a harsh slap to your clit, you’re climaxing. You scream out, the sound vibrating in your bones as you jolt and twitch. Miguel is quick to finish after, grunting as he spills into you with stuttering hips. You go lax against the altar, hand loosening on the bottle as you breathe deeply. Miguel takes the bottle from you, pulling out and turning you around. You moan when he continues to press against you, looking down to see his creamy cock against your clit. His head nudges your clit just slightly, and you jolt when he shifts and his cock hits it. You can fill something slowly dripping from you, and your cheeks burn.

Miguel’s hand massages at your hip, his other hand holding the bottle of Holy Water. He brings it to his mouth, unscrewing it with his teeth. His hand on your tightens, keeping you in place as he spills the bottle onto your stomach. You gasp at the coldness, watching as it runs down your stomach and to your cunt. It runs onto Miguel’s cock, blending with the mixture of cum and dripping off to the floor.

“Have to cleanse ourselves of your sins, ¿No es así, mi ángel sucio?”

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sirjocktrainer · 11 days ago

Text

Weekly Workout

A good jock workout hard.

A good jock eats right.

A good jock obeys coach.

Keeping with the theme of dreams, what started yours? Because if you're following me not only to you like jocks/soldier/etc you like either being a submissive one, maybe a dominant one, or both.

So what started your you on the path to dream of being a owned jock or jock owner?

For me I grew up on an overseas military base so uniforms where normal and even before I realized I like guys all the fit and attractive guys around me where in uniform much of the time. Which is why while I like sports uniforms I will also take a guy in a military uniform over a footballer or even a rugby player any day.

I also always like the part of movies and TV shows where the bad guy(or girl) used their magic, a watch, whatever, to control either the sidekick or random victim of the week, bouse points if it was a guy being controlled.

But it wasn't until very late high school with the rise of the internet in the late 90s (yes I'm in my 40s) that I started find sites with d/s angles and while it looks very different than it does today I found places like Gear fetish which made me realized the idea of being in charge and control of those men in uniform was what I wanted. and then e-groups/yahoo groups that made me realize just how powerful a tool hypnosis could be as part of that control.

From there I quickly realized it wasn't the sex I was after, it was the pushing him I wanted, molding him. Knowing that he's in the share he was in because of him, for me. That he was on his knees not because he wanted to be on them but because I told him to be.

It was about the control, mostly long term control to put my mark on the man, so that no matter where life took him he knew it was there because at least in part me.

I've learned a lot in the 25-30 years since I started but at it's core it hadn't change, I like men in uniforms of just about every kind and I want to forge them into someone better under my control.

Which is why if you've talked to me one on one I don't just talk about workouts, I also talk about how is school/work going, goals outside the gym. I want to mold the whole man.

Now, what's your story? what lead you to this part of tumblr?

Goals

My 500cals is still very consistent at 6:29. With my writing was okay, I didn't hit my goal but I wrote about 1500 words which is better. My goal to reading went very well, I finished over 600 pages, finishing the book I was one plus two other shorter ones that have been waiting in to my read stack .

This week @orcaazure, my marines and Toy, are being good boys and giving their best.

sirjocktrainer-100cal in 5 min, read 300 pages a week. 2000 words write/edit

boy-s37- 85% meal diet compliance Perform 100 pushups per day Achieve chest growth 40 inches

orcaazure- Total of 5 workouts a week Stick to my meal plan 5 out of 7 days a week bicep measures goal 42 shoulders measure goal 25

Costas-Drop 50 pounds 100 pushups in 2 minutes Free of sugar for 6 months

#weekly workout

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maudie-duan · 2 months ago

Text

Series Summary: Harry has been fighting to keep his relationship with Olivia afloat for nearly two years. At what point do you choose to either endure or let the strain of the world defeat his ambitious hopes of a lasting relationship? Or will a single night and a fleeting encounter be enough to change the projection of Harry’s path? Maybe our ‘Mystery Girl,’ Shiloh, will just happen to be in the right place at the right time.

Word Count: 5.2K

Warning: SLOW-BURNER, Strong Language, Major Angst, Eventual Smut, Emotional.

H: I know you said you were busy, but is there any chance we could see each other before the premiere? Surprisingly, my schedule is wide open.

S: I’m sorry, but I really can’t. I’m filming today and have a meeting with some sponsors tomorrow…plus a team meeting with my team to go over the details for the next month. I’m super booked. I’m already tired.

H: That’s quite a list. Figured it would be a stretch, but I had to ask.

H: I’m dying to see you, if we’re sticking with honesty. I know I’ve told you already.

Shiloh didn’t get back to me until later that night. I must have caught her right before a live because thirty minutes later, I was watching her and Florence live on Instagram, wondering if she would ever ask me to be on the show or if that would spark too much chatter.

I’m not sure how I would handle myself. I kept re-reading the message I sent, wondering if it was too forward and needy for her already, but I couldn’t help myself. We’ve only really been able to text since we started talking, Shiloh giving me her nights, long phone calls into the late hours. Giving me time, I know she'll be hurting for later once her day catches up, so I can’t really complain. Whether we’re texting or talking on the phone, she’s found a way to have me there with her.

“Is it boring listening to us edit?” Shiloh speaks up. She has me on speaker phone while she and her friends edit videos. This is the second night in a row, but I’m happy to do it, to listen to her thoughts: every idea, every comment, the suggestions she takes from her team. She’s all hands on deck, and it’s so refreshing. She has complete control of her image, and it’s impressive, motivating, and at times, I even find myself taking mental notes.

“I’m not bored, I promise, I’m taking this opportunity to send out some emails myself,” I tell her, the smile on my face stretching when her laugh fills the line.

“Well, look at us, being worker bees…” Then she laughs again, “I think we’re almost done, if you don’t mind hanging tight?”

“I have no other obligations but to lie in bed and talk to you. Although it is getting close to my bedtime…” Another laugh sounds, but it’s not hers. It must be her friend Annie, the super fan, and I laugh to myself, wondering what it must feel like to be her friend in this situation—a situation so random that even I don’t know how it happened.

“I’m sorry, old man…are you going on a run in the morning?” She asked, with a casual sarcasm that seemed to drip from her mouth, something I’ve witnessed from watching her videos, but she’s quick on her feet, and sometimes even I can’t keep up.

“I was thinking about it…what’s your address, and I’ll run by your house.” I poke.

“Yeah, right, sir, like I would give you my address that easily.”

“It was worth a try…” I tell her, “You’d probably be sleeping anyway…”

“I do cherish my sleep…” and then she shifts back into work mode: “What if we cut six minutes here…and then if we absolutely have to, I can refilm the last three minutes?” That outro was weird even for me…”

“I really like what Kevin said about the intro. I think we should stick to that idea for sure.” She tells them, “And when I was looking at the calendar, it looks like we could actually mark off—”

She sighs, “Damn…these six days…wait…do we really think six days in NYC?”

I sit up then, pressing the phone into my ear harder. “I think I want to cancel this. I kind of want to stay here for a bit. We’ve been on the go for a while now.”

“I’d be down to cancel if that’s what you want?” Annie tells her, “We could fit another interview in here instead—”

Shiloh interrupts, excitement spilling from her tone, “Oh my gosh! I forgot to tell you who freaking reached out to me.”

“Who?” Annie asks, and I stay quiet even though I’m curious myself.

“Billie!”

“No way, dude, shut up!”

“No, I kid you not. I had to like check the profile like six times.” She laughs, “I messaged her back and was like girl…of all the people to slide into my DM’s…”

They both share a laugh, but I’m dying to see her face, see the excitement, memorize the way I know the smile would reach her eyes, witness it firsthand. I want to be the person making her this excited, and now I’m dying to know what she thinks of me, of us, dying to know if she wants the same things.

Is it insane to want forever already? Because there’s never been a person I’ve felt this drawn to, the others were mere place holders; they had to have been. “As in Billie Eilish?” I ask, just to soothe my own curiosity.

“Yes, Harry! There are no other Billies in my world.” And then Annie speaks up, “That’s her wife.”

“Her wife?” I repeat.

“Yeah, that's my baby. I would marry her in a heartbeat...Well...actually only if Kristen Stewart didn’t ask me first.” She says.

“Hmm…” I hum, mulling over this new bit of information, “So, then I don’t stand a chance, huh?

And this draws a giggle from both ladies, then Kevin lets out a loud groan, “Bro, you’re the only option in this household, don’t worry…trust me.”

“Oh my god, Kevin…” Then there’s a shuffle on the line, and when Shiloh talks, this time her voice is the only one I hear.

“Alright, guys, I’m calling it a night.” She huffs, “I’ll be in my room…”

I laugh, my tone rasping through the mouthpiece of the phone, “I'm the only option in the household?”

She scoffs, “Don’t let that go to your head. I have options, trust me.” I know she’s joking, but there’s a serious undertone. She, in fact, has many options, but I want to be the only one.

I let the phone go silent, and the sound of a door closing behind her is prominent, and for some reason, I’m finding myself sulking in her comment, even though I know it wasn’t meant to harm.

“Harry…” Shiloh speaks, cutting through the silence, “Are you still there?”

“Yeah,” I breathe, a knot forming in my throat.

“Tell me what you’re thinking?” she asks, and her voice echoes, “Sorry, I’m putting you on speaker phone. I need to get ready for bed.”

“I'm thinking we should FaceTime while you're getting ready?” I joke.

“Ha. Ha—maybe after I change…” she tells me, and I can hear the smile in her tone, and all I can do is picture her getting undressed.

"You know all you have to do is pull up the pictures from our photoshoot, and you would have all the images you want." She pokes, "Alex sent me every single picture."

"Wait, what?" I force out, nearly choking on the words with a new sense of excitement coursing through me.

"Did you not ask for them?" She questions.

"No..."

"Hmmm..." she hums, and now I'm in my head, reeling over the idea of having every SINGLE picture.

She was quiet for a moment, and then the sound of running water pulls me from my thoughts. “I’m going to brush my teeth real quick. I’m sorry, it might be loud.” Her voice reverberates around the bathroom, but then she switches us to FaceTime, and my entire body surges with a whole new energy- a new curiosity itching at my brain.

This is the third night in a row that she’s taken me to bed with her, walking me through each of her routines. The first time I watched her, I couldn’t believe it was happening. It felt like my very own personal live. Her casual demeanor as calm, as if she was filming for her channel.

The night seemed to bring on a whole new persona for us both, dreamlike, the two of us able to let our guards down. Each conversation seemed to flow without effort, the phone a vessel as she seemed to float into my world. She was no longer a daydream, but a real person on the other end of my screen; it was the closest we had been since that night I called her and made a fool of myself.

But I think we’re finally past that.

There’s so much I’ve already learned about her. Stuff that hasn’t made it to the screen trust me, I’ve seen everything I could get my hands on, and yes, I’ve told her—she said she’s done the same, except she's had the upper hand because my whole life is practically out there for the entire world to unpack.

And she’s not wrong.

Every new detail that seems worthy of remembering, I’ve listed in my notes app. I don’t want to forget a single thing, big or small, I want her to know I’m in this a hundred percent—it’s scary, but I don’t want to push it. Everything feels fragile, a delicate balance, and I don’t want to tip the scales before I ever get a real chance.

“I’m so tired…” she whispers, pulling the blanket up to her chin. She looks cozy, peaceful, on the verge of falling asleep, but I’m not ready to let her go.

“Don’t fall asleep, yet Shi…” I tell her, my voice low.

Her green eyes are trained on me, the side of her face buried into her pillow, “It sounds really sweet when you call me that…”

“Do you like it?” I ask.

“I like it a lot, or maybe it’s your accent…I don’t know. I like your voice; it makes me tired,” she says, her eyes flitting shut, a soft smile playing on her lips.

I let out a quiet laugh. “It makes you tired?” I question.

“Yeah…” she breathes, and she doesn’t open her eyes. " Like it’s cozy…” A smile stretches across her face then, and just as it’s almost at full mass, her eyes flutter open.

“I could listen to it all night.” She adds.

“You can listen to it anytime you want,” I tell her.

And this keeps the smile on her face, “We finally get to see each other tomorrow,” Shiloh says.

“I know…crazy, right?”

“Are you nervous?” She asks.

“I don’t know…maybe a little, are you?”

“Yes, what if I’m not the same in person…” she says with a shy, breathy laugh.

“We’ve technically already met in person, twice, kind of…”

“Twice?” She repeats

“Once at the Gucci show and the photoshoot,” I explain, knowing the Gucci show doesn’t count, but it counts for me.

“Harry, to be honest, I was trying to avoid you at that Gucci show.”

And this is news to me—I told her that I was drawn to her, but we never really got into the details of it, just that it was a mutual thing. Now I’m curious. “Avoiding me?” I ask.

“Yeah, you felt–” Then Shiloh laughs again, covering her eyes, as a huge grin stretches across her face, “I don’t know. If I tell you, will you promise you won’t think I’m weird?

My heart picks up at this, a thousand questions already circling in my mind. What if she didn’t feel it, the draw, what if this had all been entirely one-sided, the depth in which I’ve felt her, longed for her since the moment I saw her, because that’s what it was, longing.

And when she uncovers her eyes, her smile drops, and she smooths her lips together, the mood shifting in a single breath. “Harry…” she says her tone low.

“That night…I was really nervous, and you like kind of became my lifeline. I don’t know how to explain it. Like if I felt myself freaking out, I would find you in the room…well actually, you were kind of in my line of sight the whole time. It was crazy, but I would look at you, and something just felt right, I don’t know…I know that sounds crazy, but I just felt it...” She finishes, and my heart is fucking soaring, and as I take in her face, I see tears welling in her eyes.

“It’s not crazy…I promise, does this upset you?” I whisper, my throat tightening, but I feel it too, the unexplainable emotions that have seemed to follow us, circle us like vultures, haunt our every thought, because it's evident that she feels it too, and it’s everything

“I don’t know…” She chokes out, then the first tear is running down her cheek, leaving a glossy trail, and it’s breaking my heart because I want so badly to reach out and touch her, to have been able to wipe away any tears that I’ve brought her, because even if she hasn’t told me, I know I’ve already hurt her; and the pain of that has been like crawling through the desert, praying for rain.

“I’m scared,” she tells me.

These are the moments he seems to take over my mind.

Always when I least expect it.

One moment, my mind is swirling with the madness at hand, my life, my task, everything that is entirely mine, and suddenly, I'm thinking about those green eyes, his smile–and then the next thing I know, I'm spiraling through memories we haven't even made, imagining him in moments that don't even exist, dreaming of how his hand might feel against the small of my back guiding me through a crowd, or the sound of his laughter in the early morning, rough with sleep, but honest and raw. The way his name might taste on my tongue in the heat of a moment I'm too scared to initiate. What are we when the phone no longer serves as our lifeline?

It's terrifying how quick my mind is to race ahead, building our future from tiny details, while mindlessly conjuring a life around a person I barely even know. And yet I can't stop the flood, this rush of wanting that sweeps me from one thought to the next like I'm caught in a current too strong to fight, because there's no resisting, because the moment I fight is the moment the current takes me under--to a place where I'm fighting for the past, fighting for the old me, but she doesn't exist anymore.

And I keep telling myself to be careful. I keep telling myself that fantasy rarely survives reality, and maybe this is just another daydream I'm trying to breathe into life, another moment of wanting something so bad that I begin to shape it into something that isn't real–these are the moments I want to pull back, to protect myself, but now I'm thinking it's too late, because I think I've been falling since before I even uttered his name from my lips, and now I'm just waiting for the impact, for the storm overhead.

“Okay, I think we’re set,” Kevin confirms, handing me the mic. My makeup artist is touching up my lipstick, right before we go live for Vogue, and it feels like pure fucking chaos, but all I can do is grin and bear it.

“Shiloh, make sure you’re on your mark…okay, now shift right, okay, just like that. I think you should hold the mic in your left hand, it looks better on the screen—”

Annie is in “go mode,” and thank God she’s such a powerhouse because she has been my saving grace in these big moments. Not a single thing seems to shake her, and every time I look at her, I try to embody her energy because she is my rock in this moment.

“Okay, give us a quick intro before we roll, the countdown begins now, in 5…4…3…2…1…and NOW—!”

Then we were off to the races, and in no time I was slipping into my filming persona like a glove that fit perfectly–people coming and going, jokes being made, all smiles, all the while wondering when I would see Harry.

"My darling, Shiloh," Florence coos as she approaches, "It's crazy...It's like we've just done this..."

“Floooo! Oh my god, I’m obsessed with your look, I kid you not! Tell us what you’re wearing…” and just as she’s about to answer, Harry’s name is being shouted, tossed around in the background over and over, and Florence turns to look.

“I guess our star has finally made it,” She laughs out, her tone laced with sarcasm, and I can’t help but laugh.

“You may not get a decent interview with all that noise…of course no hate Vogue…” she says, turning to the camera, but she’s right, the fucking crowd is roaring, even though the real star of the movie is standing next to me, and that's when it hits me that Harry will be standing before me in just minutes.

“Oh my gosh, Shiloh, let’s not talk about my dress, lets talk about yours, holy fuck…wait am I allowed to say that?”

“You are now,” I laugh out, resting a hand on her shoulder.

“Oh my gosh, can I just say, you have to be the most gorgeous person here tonight, like I cannot, get over this dress, is it glued to your body, like I’m so obsessed.” Then her hand is moving to my waist taking in the dress.

“That’s so sweet, but really, who are YOU wearing, it’s freaking stunning my friend. Black is so classic, but it’s perfect on you.”

"Darling, it's Louis Vuitton...Oh no...I think I'm being called...I'm sorry to cut our interview short, love, I'll see you tonight, yeah?" She rushes, reaching in for a hug, and when I look over her shoulder, Harry was approaching faster than I imagined.

And that was the moment the panic set in.

Like standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down, wondering how you got here in the first place, and my heart slams against my ribs like it's trying to escape, my body already reacting, trying to reach him before I could, yet instead of fighting, a piece of me wanted to surrender. There was an interviewer between us, but it might as well have been an ocean for all I cared, because the thought of him nearing was terrifying, but God, I wanted to dive into every aspect of him.

I could feel the mic in my hand beginning to slip, and I wondered if the camera was picking up on my shaky fingers. How could time both stretch and contract at the same time? How could the world spin and stop on its axis in the flash of a heartbeat? There he was, standing only a few feet away, and I was next–and he would be mine for a few minutes.

The closer he got, the more the noise of the premiere seemed to fade into a distant hum, as an eager pulse raced under my skin, blood rushing to my ears, my heart pounding so hard that I could feel it in my throat. It was all happening so quickly, a whirlwind of thoughts crashing over me while I talked at the camera, me playing my part. Still, my mind was only on him, the moment playing out like a fucking fever dream–the haze of his presence was pulling me under. I have no control, because it's him, he's my person, and I know with every fiber of my being that I have to have him in my life, that I could not go another moment without him.

It was that fucking gravitational pull that seemed to break all the rules the moment our worlds collided. The feeling was surreal as my mind tried to fill the gaps, the gaps of time when he was merely a collection of memories pieced together–Fragments of conversations, glances stolen from across the room, the cadence of his voice, now a script written across my bones, and this is terrifying, my whole body trembling, and I risk a glance at Annie who gives me a slight nod–and I know I need to pull it together.

When my eyes dart back to Harry, his eyes find mine across that impossibly short distance. Something thrums between us humming over my flesh, like my body is trying to recall all those late-night conversations, all those whispered confessions over FaceTime—they suddenly feel like nothing compared to his actual presence, and the air that floods my lungs is thick, growing heavy, making it harder to breathe, crushing me as if the universe itself was trying to condense every memory into this single moment.

Because I swear I rehearsed this meeting a thousand times in my head, trying to think of the perfect lines, standing in front of the mirror practicing a casual smile, one that wouldn't give me away, but now my mind is blank, wiped clean by the reality of him. This was Harry, actually Harry, not just a voice through my phone or a face on my screen, and his smile—dammit, that smile—there it is, curving slowly, private like it's just for me, like we don't have thousands of eyes on us right now, like the world hasn't been waiting for this very moment.

And then he closes the space between us, two heartbeats of time becoming one. And then I remember I have to speak, have to somehow function like a normal human being when everything inside me is pure, fucking chaos.

"Hi," I whisper into the mic, dazed in a giddy fit of panic, and I can feel the muscles in my cheeks stretching.

Then he's smiling, matching my energy, because I can tell he's just as taken, but he had already warned me this morning that he knew he wouldn't have any control, and when I hand him his mic, our fingers brush, making my whole body tingle. Then my eyes dart to the fucking ground like an idiot, giving myself away entirely because I cannot stop smiling to save my life, and then I look into the camera, to seal the deal, and I kid you not Annie snaps her fingers and I have to reel it in.

"Hi," is all he says, and we share a glance, a tiny sliver of time that is ours. It is both terrifying and exhilarating, and I wonder if this is the closest to magic I'll ever get because the man has me under a spell, and I am bound to him.

"Your dress is extraordinary. You look stunning. That's all the crowd could talk about back there, and honestly, I couldn't agree more." He gushes, and I definitely blush. I can feel the heat rushing to my face.

"You don't look half bad yourself, are you wearing Gucci?" As Harry looks down to peek at his suit, he rubs a hand down his torso, and my eyes snag on his ring-clad fingers.

"Yes, yes, Gucci has so kindly taken care of me this evening..." He confirms, but I just figured out my next angle, so I take it.

"Okay, so I've only ever heard about the rings, but it's different seeing them in person. Can we get a little view for the camera?"

Then, I spread my fingers out in front of me to urge him to do the same, and he does, switching hands with his microphone to give us a view of each hand. When my eyes sweep to my own hand, my fingers are trembling, and I have to stretch them, each finger splaying wide. Then my eyes flick to his for the briefest second, and suddenly, there's a sense of relief that washes over me.

Looking back on that red carpet interview now, I realize I was the one who hard-launched us before we even had a chance to figure it out, but that's for another day, because I wasn't even thinking, I was just doing it, grabbing her outstretched hand on full display for the world. Her perfect, delicate hand shaking before me, making my heart drop to my stomach. I wanted to take the pressure off the moment–I wanted to touch her and let her know that it was okay, that it was just us, just me and her, nobody else.

"I didn't realize you were a ring, girly," I laughed, taking her hand in mine, and it wasn't true, I knew this about her, after all I had seen every image of her I could ever find, now cataloged in my mind like a flipbook, moving through my minds eye every time her name is mentioned. I had seen every ring that had been on her finger on screen, but there was only one that I ever wanted to call mine, and in that split second, it changed our whole reality.

"I love this one..." I tell her, swiping my finger down the smooth stone of her ring. The one from the photoshoot, the one that caught my eye before, the one that had me in a daze, the one that reminded me of a bumblebee perched on her finger–a constant thought buzzing around my ear every time I saw it.

She seemed to never take it off, always on her index finger like an extension of her flesh–she had become the honey bee of my world, her presence dripping like honey before me, so close I could taste the sweet scent of her perfume, like wildflowers with a hint of vanilla, warm like basking in the glow of the sun.

"It's my favorite ring," she says, her voice distant as we both gaze down at the ring between my fingers, ready to wiggle it off.

Then the interview becomes a blur of motions as soon as I say, "I'll trade you?"

And when she peers up at me, a slow smile spreads on her face, and it's like the crowd, the cameras, all the noise dissolves into white noise, and I'm sinking, a peculiar kind of drowning–willingly letting myself float into her essence, the very being of her existence, moving between my fingers like water through a slow moving stream. It was like nothing I could explain; it was everything all at once. It was only her real and solid after existing for so long as pixels on a screen, only a lush voice in my ear.

I knew I had to keep my composure, and we played out our bit accordingly, each moment carefully constructed, holding a sense of calm for the public even though we both knew what was happening beneath the surface. "Pick any ring..." I nudge her, holding out my hand, and her eyes flit over each one.

And with each second that passed, that careful composure threatened to crack, my practiced smile nearly coming undone. Every second was me fighting the urge to reach out to her, to collapse the space between us, that paper-thin veil crafted to keep us both in check. "Okay, so you're like serious—Harry Styles is offering me a ring y'all–" she joked, playing up the camera.

She saved us both that day, her professionalism unwavering, even though I could see it in her eyes, "I like the teddy bears in this one," she tells me, pointing to my Grateful Dead ring.

"Take it...it's yours..." I push ahead of myself, and she laughs, but my heart is racing out of control, and I know I'm giving myself away, completely–my want a desperate need aching inside me.

Then she slides the stone ring off her finger and looks up at me, and I'm holding my breath as she smooths the smile from her red-painted lips. "This is the first piece of jewelry I've ever bought myself," she explains, biting her lower lip.

"I promise to take care of it...which ring did you choose?" I ask, calmer this time, knowing that she's going to do it, give me a tiny piece of her to take with me, and I know it will be the only thing that will get me through this night, keep me sane when the distance has to stretch between us again.

As we both peer down, the world around us falls away. It's like time seems to stretch into something tangible between us, a charge building as the possibilities hum at the tips of our fingers so close that they're almost touching—a tender moment that's ours and ours alone as Shiloh's eyes trace each ring on my hand, and then my eyes flick to her face, watching as she smoothes those perfect lips together.

"That's time, guys!" Someone shouts out, but it's faint. When Shiloh's eyes meet mine, there's a moment of understanding, unspoken and clear—suddenly, this is just jewelry; it's about the sense of belonging we both seem to crave. It's a reminder that even when the cameras stop rolling and we have to return to our separate lives, something will stay with her, with me.

Another tether, a reason to come back.

For a breath, neither of us moves, caught in this fragile moment, aware of every camera documenting this sacred exchange, but suddenly unable to muster the will to care. How strange that such an intimate gesture could happen under the harsh glare of a spotlight, the world watching, speculating, already hungry for whatever narrative they were going to spin from these seconds.

Yet in that moment I didn't give a single fuck.

"Harry—Shiloh--" Annie's voice cuts through, professional but gentle. "We need to keep moving."

Then Shiloh taps the silver band of dancing bears on my finger, and I slip it off with a smile, pushing it onto her finger. All the while, Shiloh's eyes never leave my face, and when I glance up, she's smiling.

"That's time, guys!" Someone shouts again, roaring the world back in motion around us, and I nod, my eyes locked on Shiloh's face as something unfinished lingers between us.

When I reach out an empty hand, she drops her ring in my palm. "I'll take care of it," I promise her, leaning in to whisper in her ear, "Until later..." I finish trying to move past her, and ever so slightly, she tugs on the sleeve of my jacket, and this time, when I meet her eyes again, her face is only inches away, and as I move away, her eyes never leave mine.

She doesn't say a word, just stares back at me, her big green eyes glazed over with a look of wonderment, a dazed smile playing at her lips, and I wink, pushing the mic into her hand, right before I turn away.

And when I glance back over my shoulder, Olivia is filling the empty space in front of Shiloh, and my heart drops.

A/N: Man, the slow burn almost feels worth it. Now the ball is rolling, friends! Can't wait! Tag List is always open for future updates. Let me know in the comments! So sorry for the crazy long delay on this one guys, but we're back, for good, seeing this one through, so please put your faith in me and jump back in. It will be fun I promise!!

LET'S TALK ABOUT IT: FINALLY they've come face to face! it could only go up from here, right?

->chat with me<-

Tag List: @howling-wolf97 @sassamanda77 @babegoalsreads @palmettogal508 @indierockgirrl @lizsogolden @sexymfharriet @pologoonies @amateurduck

Chapter Twelve

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stu-dyingstudent · 11 months ago

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Sakura fic recs: civilian discrimination/clan politics

Another personal favorite type of read when it comes to Sakura Haruno fanfiction! I think it's reasonable to assume considering the treatment of the branch families in the Hyuga clan that if the series was a little darker/serious, then Sakura, TenTen, and Lee would have definitely been looked down upon for not being from a clan. They don't have the same connections and support that the clan kids do and so I love when fics bring this up and take it further.

Ok, so I've kinda decided to just make this a list for fics with some political focus to them...

Also, check out my list on third war continued/Sakura sent to war prematurely as all of those fics bring up this hierarchy.

Started: 2024.07.23

Last Updated: 2024.12.28

note: feel free to check out my master list which has a bunch of Sakura Haruno fic recs (all organized)!

edit: I am currently reevaluating this list as I feel I can do better!

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A Drop of Poison by Androgyninja || ao3 || gen || M || canon divergent || complete

After being humiliated during a sparring match, Sakura realizes that she no longer wants to base her future on a boy who doesn't even like her. With a newfound sense of determination, she sets off to become a truly terrifying kunoichi, making her fair share of friends and enemies along the way.In other words, Sakura discovers who she really wants to be and fucks shit up along the way. And if she poisons a few important people? Well, that's just collateral damage.Begins during Sakura's final year at the academy and ends right before the canon time skip.

Where the hierarchy of the clans and clanless is more prominent than ever, Sakura comes to the stark realization of her true purpose on team 7. A Drop of Poison is probably the first fic that comes to mind when I think of discrimination and clan politics in Konoha and it's for a good reason. Constant hurdles are thrown Sakura's way because of her lineage and the actions she chooses to take bring ramifications which she'll have to face head first. Also, poison-user!Sakura is such a great idea (I wish this was canon)!

bite me and see, said the fly to the spider - MirrorImage003 || ao3 || itasaku || T || canon AU || ongoing

In which Sakura is not initially a part of Team 7. In which she wears her failures like armor and brandishes her fears like her most trusted weapons. In which I do what hundreds of other authors have done before me, and rewrite Sakura's story. Non-massacre AU. Canon Divergent. Slow-burn.

Sakura's first team is made up of the "expendables." Placed with a fresh and inexperienced jonin as their sensei, it results in the quick demise of the team. Now slotted into team 7, Sakura has to face the harsh remarks regarding her first major failure as a shinobi and persevere to prove her worth to the village.

Expedient - SwiftKick || ffn || T || canon AU || complete

Konoha and Iwa sign a truce and agree to an Exchange Program between recently promoted genin to "bolster village relations." Fortunately, if anything were to go wrong, Haruno Sakura was just average enough to risk losing.

From what I remember, Expedient is not very heavy on this dynamic, however, it is a major contributor as to why Sakura was the one sent on the exchange. She was deemed as so average, so unremarkable, that the village could risk her. Even so, Sakura does face a lot of criticism from Iwa shinobi and civilians, marking her as an outsider. I don't really want to spoil anything, but just know that the sensitivity of her position makes it difficult for her both in Konoha and Iwa. This one is an all time favorite of mine. Deidara is such a fun character and I really enjoyed Sakura's growth.

The Small Postures - Celenier || ao3 || T || kakasaku || canon divergence || incomplete

Sakura acts as a spy for Tsunade when Danzo takes an interest in her. While earning her place in ANBU Root, she discovers her own path to greatness. She learns grim secrets about how her village operates, makes terrible enemies, and begins to appreciate the extent of her fractured personality.

It's Sakura's more expendable status that results in her being used to infiltrate ROOT. I found this fic kinda a hard read since it's such an ominous story. Anyway, Kakashi, her former sensei, in now her contact and only confident on the matter, but how does this change their relationship? I haven't read far enough for there to be any romance, so no comment, but I imagine it's built off of Sakura's isolation. Great story though.

Daughter of Fire - justjstuff || ao3 || kakasaku || E || canon divergence || incomplete (maybe ongoing)

Sakura got up and didn’t bother brushing the dirt from her dress. She had a feeling she was about to get even dirtier. She looked at the memorial stone one last time, memorizing the characters without even realizing she was doing it. It would serve from that moment on as a reminder of her determination. She wouldn’t let Naruto and Sasuke join the names carved on that stone. That was her nindo.

Sakura faces discrimination from the council as they are not pleased that she, a civilian born, is to be the one to carry on Tsunade's legacy. I also really appreciate how Sakura's parents were handled in Daughter of Fire as it felt very logical rather than some of the other fics I have read. Her growth throughout this story is great and realistic all while pointing out aspects from the original series which were flawed and dare I say misogynistic.

Terror feeds the Soul - Pleasedial123 || ao3 || gen || not rated || canon AU || one-shot complete

Sakura is not an idiot. She was praised for her intelligence, reached Top Kunoichi at the Academy for her brains. So it doesn't take her long after being placed on the powder keg that is Team Seven to realize she is going to die. Kakashi, career shinobi since age-six, has no idea what the hell is going on with his little pink-haired student or why there is such fear in her eyes. So he gives her head-pats. That's what you do for scared puppies isn't it?

My poor girl Sakura was STRESSING in Terror Feeds the Soul, but it's for good reason. She has made the realization that with no clan ties and no apparent importance to the village, she would be that last on team 7 to be saved. Anyway, there is some pretty cute Kakashi and Sakura bonding here (platonic) that I love.

The Sixth Shadow - thinknicht || ao3 || kakasaku || M || canon AU - eventual time travel AU || ongoing

No one seemed to find it odd when little Haruno Sakura threw herself smack dab in front of a Chidori and Rasengan. Not even Kakashi stopped to wonder.(He really should have.)

The story of how Sakura came to be the sixth hokage despite all of the challenges thrown her way. Many of the characters are super OOC, but in The Sixth Shadow she faces the ultimate discrimination based off her being civilian born. Through trials of attempted sabotage, classism, and other conflicts Sakura's drive is unwavering. Such an interesting take on how the events of the series could have unfolded and the political aspects are super interesting. However, be warned that Kakashi is an absolute HATER (in the beginning), but he gets better! Also, the fic is super long.

Got Nothing to Prove (but I'ma show you how I do) - GuardianMars || ao3 || gen || T || mission gone wrong || incomplete

Civilians and orphans are always used as cannon fodder. Sakura’s not sure where she first came by this phrase. Whether she heard it or read it, she can’t quite remember, but it stuck in her head and it stays in the back of her mind whenever Team 7 takes a mission. When Sakura and Tenten get placed on a temporary team looking into a series of kidnappings of local village girls, Sakura is naturally worried. She doesn't want to be cannon fodder. When the mission goes to pot, Sakura and Tenten find themselves far away from home and with only each other to rely on. As it turns out being cannon fodder is the least of their worries.

Sakura and TenTen are chosen specifically for a mission due to their lack of clan affiliation. Things end up taking longer than anticipated and Kakashi and Gai, being the only voices for the girls, decide that it's time to step in. This fic is super interesting because it's actually kind of a mystery. One where we don't truly know what happened on the mission but through multiple different perspectives we slowly find out. Unfortunately, this is incomplete though.

Loyalty - TrueRadicalDreamer || ffn/ao3 || M || AU || complete

A ten-year-old Haruno Sakura is put in the worst situation of her young life - being forced into working as a spy for an enemy village. As she navigates the mores of her new world, Sakura begins to realize that she is changing as a person and that she may not recognize who it is she is becoming.A story about personal responsibility, about the duties of a ninja to their village, and about the true meaning of loyalty.(Pre-Skip, Unapologetically Sakura-centric, 13 years in the writing)

Ok, a little note here is that this fic is actually being rewritten. I read the old version and loved it (the one I linked), but there is a new one coming out on ao3; although, I think it might be incomplete. Nonetheless, I HIGHLY recommend this one as I think it's great and pleasantly dark!

Obito-Sensei - Ser Serendipity || ffn || gen || M || Obito lives AU || complete

During the fateful mission to the Kannabi Bridge, Obito is too slow, and Kakashi ends up paying the price with his life. Years later, Elite Jonin Mangekyou no Obito is placed in charge of a very familiar genin team, determined to keep them safe in a world at peace. Or: Obito surviving wrecks everything, in twenty steps or less.

I don't want to say too much to avoid spoiling anything, but there is definitely a gap between Sakura and her other teammates at the beginning. I really love the worldbuilding and Obito is honestly such a good sensei (even though I had to warm up to the idea). Some interesting politics as well!

Satori (Between the Lines) - Jaylene || ffn || gen || T || academy AU || complete

While attending the Academy, Sakura's field experience assignment with the Konohagakure Intelligence Division ends up being more valuable than she'd ever guess.

Sakura lands herself working in Torture & Intelligence??? From the very beginning Sakura has been pegged as a "paper ninja" where she is constantly praised for her intelligence, so Satori (Between the Lines) is academy Sakura putting these skills to use. Super good read and includes characters we don't normally get to see in fics!

Hoshigaki - writer168 || ao3 || M || gen || sakura is kisame's daughter AU || complete

When Sakura was three, her father told her he was a criminal. When she was seven, the last thing she saw of him was the sword on his back. When she was eight, she had a friend named Kiba. When they were twelve, they met Shino.And when they were genin, they began to fight for the truth because they could no longer fight for the sake of Konoha.

Perhaps one of the more interesting AUs out there as Sakura is actually the daughter of Kisame! Definitely shines a different light on the village and is such a great story (even has a sequel).

Snakes are Venomous, Flowers are Poisonous - Omnivorous_Reader || ao3 || M || gen || Orochimaru is good AU || incomplete

It has been years since Orochimaru has taken on a proper apprentice, but when the Fourth Hokage asks him to chose one from the Rookie 12, it’s not surprising he’s the one to find the diamond in the rough

Pretty odd AU, but I guess this is kinda just Orochimaru in Boruto. Anyway, essentially, he's a good guy and loyal to village and Sasuke's a complete dick. He decides to take in another apprentice, which ends up being Sakura. A lot of discrimination towards Sakura in here due to her background and some village politics.

Rise - wenwen || ao3 || T || gen || missing-nin AU || complete

Seven years after the Kyuubi attack, the Sandaime Hokage’s sudden assassination threw Konoha into chaos, and at the end of the night, two factions arose in its shinobi forces: those who stayed and those who ran. Of those who ran, many were shinobi that the new administration denounced as traitors, deserters, and murderers. Two years later, a ragged group of children who vanished the night of the Sandaime's assassination, who would have been raised in relative peace but instead grew up running, were recruited to fight a war for the homes they barely remembered. In which Kakashi is forced to the forefront of yet another war, Itachi is given to maudlin internal monologues, Shisui alternates between coping and dissociating, and Zabuza wonders why he couldn’t have left the honor to the fucking samurai.

Fair warning, not a Sakura-centric, but she is a main character! Really well written and super interesting story.

Hokage By Necessity - Evil Is A Relative Term || ffn || T || canon divergence || incomplete

Hokage-it was Naruto's dream, just as Sasuke was his promise. And for a short, glorious time, he had them both. But when tragedy strikes, it is Sakura who must continue to bear the reality of the dream: endless paperwork, bickering Kage, and political factions.

Wow wow wow, so good! Shows the less-than-glamorous reality of what it truly means to be Hokage. Super interesting read that sheds light on the fact that the strongest person isn't always the best leader. Definitely has a heavy focus on politics (and the author clearly thought about said politics).

---

Once again, please send me recs of this genre since I'm obsessed!

#anime / manga #manga #anime #naruto #sakura haruno #sakura uchiha #haruno sakura #bamf sakura #naruto shippuden #kakasaku #team 7 #strong sakura haruno #sakura fanfic #naruto fanfiction

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ahhnini · 9 months ago

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academic!rival! rafe moodboard + hcs

a/n - setting up an enemies to lovers? anyways new au!! requests are open for academic!rival! rafe :3 hope yall enjoy! <3

ೃ༄ academic!rival! rafe who’s the top of his class, on track to graduate #1, practically lives in the school library.

ೃ༄ academic!rival! rafe who loves pumpkin spice lattes (tells everyone its cold brew).

ೃ༄ academic!rival! rafe whos wardrobe staples include in his cardigans and scarves.

ೃ༄ academic!rival! rafe who comes from a wealthy family, who had sent him off to the best university in the country.

ೃ༄ academic!rival! rafe who has a superiority complex over his classmates. he thinks they’re not intelligent enough to comprehend the material, so he doesn’t talk to them.

ೃ༄ academic!rival! rafe who feels weight on his shoulders to uphold the cameron legacy. even if he wants to live the stereotypical “college life,” those temptations are crushed by his father’s words, “our family name depends on you, son”

ೃ༄ academic!rival! rafe who bit the inside of his cheek when he checked the class rankings, and saw you about to dethrone him from his rightful place.

ೃ༄ the first time you two crossed paths was in the library, hands reaching for the same textbook. it was a cliche moment that happened in every kiss-met romcom, but to rafe, it was the start of your rivalry. you quickly snagged the book away from his hand, turning around and speed-walking to the study tables. he scoffed, browsing the shelves and settling with an older edition of the textbook.

ೃ༄ from then on, rafe would always see you on campus. and he hated that. he hated that the person who could take everything away from him was almost always right in front of his eyes.

ೃ༄ you made it seem so easy. you’d study for one hour and get top marks on the exams, while rafe would have to study for days to get the material in his head. it wasn’t fair.

ೃ༄ so he ended up doing something he’d never thought he’d do. he was going to sabotage you, in a way you or he never expected.

ೃ༄ one thursday afternoon, you find a letter someone slipped through your dorm door. opening up the envelope, the letter read; would you like to go out to dinner with me, y/n?

signed, rafe cameron.

taglist - @nemesyaaa @julie123456897 @mfdoomdickrider @grxnde-dwt

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palangsaeya · 3 months ago

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Seonghwa x reader - Lego love

Group: Ateez Members: Seonghwa, little bit of Mingi and San Warnings: none

A university student with a secret love for building LEGO unexpectedly crosses paths with Seonghwa, a mysterious yet familiar-looking man who shares her passion, leading to an unforgettable connection built one brick at a time.

You tap your fingers against the surface of your laptop, pretending to listen as your group members continue discussing the final details of your business project. It’s not that you don’t care—you do. You’ve worked too hard for your grades to let things fall apart at the last second. But right now, your mind is somewhere else.

Or rather, at one specific place.

A LEGO store.

You try not to glance at the time on your phone too often, but every second feels like an eternity. There’s a limited-edition LEGO set being released today—the massive, intricate, stunning new build that you’ve been dreaming about ever since rumors started circulating online. You marked the release date on your calendar. You saved money for it. You checked the store’s stock online.

And now, you just need to get there before it sells out.

"Alright, I think that covers everything," one of your classmates finally says, and you resist the urge to sigh in relief.

"Perfect," you say, closing your laptop a little too quickly. "I'll put everything together tonight and send it to the professor before the deadline."

Your friends exchange glances. "Are you sure you don’t need help?"

"Nope, I got it," you say, already standing up and gathering your things. "Thanks, everyone! See you in class!"

And with that, you’re gone.

-----

The city streets are buzzing with the usual rush of people finishing work, heading home, or meeting up with friends. You weave through the crowd with a singular focus, your heart racing.

You need to get there.

As you approach the LEGO store, the large glass windows display all kinds of incredible builds—classic sets, pop culture collaborations, and rows upon rows of colorful bricks waiting to be assembled. But your eyes are locked on the section near the back, where the most coveted sets are usually placed.

You step inside, the bell ringing above the door, and your gaze immediately scans the shelves.

And there it is.

The last box.

Your heart leaps in triumph as you reach for it, fingers brushing against the smooth packaging. It’s heavier than you expected, but it’s yours. You smile, gripping the edges—

Until you realize another hand is holding the box, too.

You blink, following the fingers up to the wrist, the arm, the shoulder, and then the face of the person standing next to you.

A tall guy with long black hair.

His eyes are fixed on the box, his lips slightly parted in excitement—until he notices your hand. His head turns toward you, and for a brief moment, neither of you speaks. You just stare at each other, processing the situation.

Then, at the exact same time:

"I got it first."

The man raises an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly. "I think we reached for it at the same time."

You tighten your grip. "Maybe. But I was looking for it before I got here."

"So was I."

You narrow your eyes at him. "I think I deserve it more."

The corner of his mouth twitches upward, like he’s amused. "Oh? And why’s that?"

"Because—" You pause, scrambling for a reason. "Because I—I build LEGO sets on livestreams! My followers have been waiting for me to build this one!"

He blinks at you, a flicker of surprise in his dark eyes. Then, to your horror, his expression shifts into something almost playful.

"You stream LEGO builds?"

"...Yes."

"How much is it showing you?”

You look at him and wonder where this is going. Did he know you? Well, you were pretty popular with your livestreams so maybe he was your follower?

“Well, only my hands. I like to keep my personal life private.”

“Only your hands?"

"Yes, why?"

His grip on the box doesn’t loosen. Instead, he seems even more determined. "That’s impressive. But," he says, eyes glinting with amusement, "I’ve been collecting LEGO since I was a kid. And I don’t just build them—I display them. Properly. With lighting and everything."

You gasp dramatically. "So do I!"

"Then we have a problem," he says, glancing down at the box still caught between both of your hands.

You scowl. "You’re not giving up, are you?"

His lips curl slightly at the edges, a small smirk forming. "Nope."

And neither are you.

The tension between you and the stranger is thick as you continue your silent battle over the LEGO box, neither of you willing to let go. The weight of it is starting to strain your arms, but you refuse to back down.

Before either of you can come up with a new argument, a store employee suddenly walks up to you with an apologetic smile.

"Excuse me," she says, "but someone else is asking about that set. If you’re not buying it, I’ll have to give it to them."

Your heart stops.

You don’t think—you just speak.

"We’re buying it together!"

The words come out so fast that both the employee and the man beside you blink in surprise. You feel his gaze on you, but you keep your eyes locked on the employee, silently begging her to accept your answer.

She hesitates for a moment before nodding. "Alright, if you’re both purchasing it, that’s fine."

When she finally walks away, you let out a breath of relief—only to realize that the guy is staring at you.

You clear your throat. "Well... that was the only way to keep it from getting taken, right?"

He blinks at you, then slowly, to your shock, nods. "True."

You didn’t expect him to agree so easily. But you’re not about to question your victory.

The two of you silently carry the box to the counter, and without even discussing it, you each pull out your wallets and split the cost in half.

Neither of you says a word as the cashier bags the box and hands it over. Even as you step out of the store, standing awkwardly on the sidewalk together, the situation finally dawns on you.

What are you even supposed to do now?

You glance at the tall man beside you, clutching the LEGO bag just as tightly as you. He looks at you, then at the bag, then back at you. You can tell he’s thinking the same thing.

"...So," you start, shifting on your feet. "What now?"

He exhales through his nose, tilting his head slightly. "Guess we have to decide what to do with it."

You bite your lip. Technically, one of you could just take it and pay the other back, but you both want it. And you’re not ready to give up your claim.

Then, suddenly, an idea pops into your head.

You straighten your posture. "I have a proposal."

The guy raises an eyebrow. "Go on."

You ignore the teasing tone in his voice. "We do a livestream together tonight. We build it together. And after that, we decide who keeps it."

He tilts his head, clearly thinking it over. His fingers tap against the LEGO bag, and after a long pause, he finally speaks.

"Where do you stream?"

A rush of excitement floods through you. "At my place. It’s not far from here."

For a brief moment, he hesitates. You hold your breath, waiting for his answer.

Then—

"Lead the way."

-----

Your apartment is not prepared for guests.

It’s a simple student apartment, not exactly messy, but not as clean as it should be either. The second you open the door, you suddenly feel self-conscious. Your textbooks are stacked haphazardly on the small desk, a few empty cups are scattered around, and the only proper furniture you have is your bed and a low table in the middle of the room.

When you step inside, the man follows, glancing around. You quickly clear your throat.

"It’s small, I know."

He shrugs. "It’s cozy."

You blink at him. He sounds genuine.

You shake off the surprise and gesture to the floor. "You can sit wherever. I don’t have a couch, though..."

He looks at the bed, then at the floor, then at the bed again. Then he immediately sits on the floor.

You blink again. "You really don’t want to sit on the bed?"

He shakes his head. "I’ll sit here."

You stifle a laugh, finding his reaction strangely amusing.

Finally, you set down the LEGO bag and turn to him. "We should probably introduce ourselves properly."

He nods. "Yeah. You go first."

You tell him your name, watching as he listens carefully. Then, he shifts slightly and speaks.

"I’m Seonghwa."

Seonghwa. The name suits him. You repeat it in your head a few times before nodding.

"Alright, Seonghwa," you say, rolling up your sleeves. "Let’s get ready for this stream."

Seonghwa watches as you pull out your setup—your phone stand, your extra lighting, and the tools you use to make sure everything looks neat. As you work, he leans forward slightly, eyes filled with curiosity. You give him some information on how you usually shoot this kind of livestreams and where the camera is pointing at. You also tell him that the microphone is on so the watchers can hear the sound of the pieces.

"You really do this often," he muses.

You glance at him. "Of course. You thought I was lying?"

He shakes his head. "No. It’s just interesting. I don’t meet many people who do this."

You pause for a moment, then smirk. "Are you getting nervous?"

Seonghwa scoffs. "Not at all."

“Have you done something like this before?”

Seonghwa looks at you and you can see he is thinking about something before he nods a little, but he isn’t going to give you an answer.

You narrow your eyes at him, suspicious. But instead of pressing further, you finish setting up, take a deep breath, and finally press Start Live.

-----

The live stream is on.

Your hands move instinctively, separating the plastic bags into two equal halves and pushing one pile toward Seonghwa. Neither of you speaks a word—this is how your streams always go. Quiet, focused, with only the sound of rustling plastic and pieces clicking into place.

Seonghwa doesn’t complain. He simply picks up his portion, examines the instruction booklet for a moment, and starts building.

For the next hour, the only sounds filling your small apartment are the occasional shifting of LEGO bricks and the soft, repetitive clicks as each piece is locked in.

You can’t help but steal glances at Seonghwa.

At first, you’re just watching how he builds—his technique, the way his fingers move so carefully yet efficiently. But the more you observe, the more you notice.

His hands are... fascinating.

His long fingers are almost mesmerizing as they pick up each tiny brick with precision. The way his knuckles shift as he presses pieces together. The veins on the back of his hands, faint but visible.

You swallow and quickly turn back to your own section.

Focus.

But it’s hard. Because every so often, Seonghwa shifts slightly and reaches for his phone.

You try not to pry, but it’s impossible to ignore. You catch glimpses of him unlocking the screen, typing something quickly, then setting it aside. It happens a few times. You’re curious, but it’s none of your business, so you don’t ask.

Still, the question lingers in your mind.

Who is he texting?

And then there’s another thing you notice—

Seonghwa is checking you out.

You catch him in your peripheral vision, sneaking small glances in your direction when he thinks you’re too focused to notice. His dark eyes shift between you and the LEGO pieces in your hands, lingering for just a second too long before he looks away.

At first, you think you’re imagining it.

But it keeps happening. Each time you glance up, there’s a moment—a flicker of eye contact—before he quickly averts his gaze. Your heart beats a little faster. You don’t say anything. You just keep building, pretending not to notice.

And so the hours pass like that—wordless, yet filled with unspoken thoughts.

-----

Six hours.

That’s how long it takes.

The moment you snap the final piece into place, you take a deep breath and finally, finally sit back.

You glance at Seonghwa, who is also leaning back slightly, stretching his arms after sitting hunched over for so long. His long hair falls away from his face, and for the first time, you fully take in his features.

He’s really, really handsome.

You knew that already, but now that the LEGO set is done and there’s nothing to distract you, it’s painfully obvious. Your brain tries to process where you’ve seen him before. There’s something familiar about him, but you can’t quite place it.

Before you can think too much about it, you turn your attention back to the completed LEGO build. Carefully, you lift the entire structure and move it to a safer spot near the wall. You adjust your phone’s camera so the viewers can see the final product in all its glory.

You gesture toward the set, letting the audience admire the result of your six-hour effort. You can already see the chat going crazy, messages flying by too fast for you to read properly.

Seonghwa watches quietly beside you, his gaze flickering to the screen for a moment before he exhales softly.

Then, with a single movement, you reach over—

And end the live stream.

The silence that follows is... unexpected.

For the past six hours, there’s been the quiet background noise of the stream, the clicking of LEGO bricks, the faint sounds of your breathing. Now, there’s nothing. Just you. And Seonghwa. In a tiny student apartment.

You turn to look at him and, without thinking, you smile.

"Thanks for helping."

Seonghwa meets your gaze, his own lips curving up slightly. "You too. That was fun."

You nod. "It really was."

A small pause. Then—

"Six hours, though," he murmurs, shaking his head slightly. "That flew by."

You let out a soft laugh. "Yeah. It didn’t feel that long, did it?"

Seonghwa tilts his head, considering your words. Then, he shakes his head again.

"No. It didn’t."

His voice is quiet, almost thoughtful. You feel something warm settle in your chest.

You don’t know what to say next. And for some reason, you don’t want to say anything. You just want to sit in this strange, comfortable silence for a little longer.

So you do.

-----

The silence stretches for a moment after your last words, but it’s not uncomfortable. Seonghwa sits on the floor, leaning back on his hands, glancing around your small student apartment. You feel a little self-conscious about the space—it’s not messy, but it’s not exactly spotless either. A few textbooks are stacked on your desk, a blanket is crumpled on your bed, and empty coffee cups sit on a small table near the window.

But Seonghwa doesn’t seem to mind. He doesn’t comment on anything, doesn’t look around with judgment. He just exists in the space naturally, like he’s always meant to be here.

You clear your throat and shift your weight. "Are you hungry?"

Seonghwa looks down at his phone, checking the time. His long fingers hover over the screen for a second before he nods. "Yeah, actually. I didn’t realize how late it was."

You pull out your own phone and quickly open your favorite food delivery app. You scroll for a moment before turning the screen toward him. "This place is really good. You should pick something."

Seonghwa leans forward slightly, his long hair falling over his shoulder as he studies the menu. His expression is calm, focused—like he’s making a very important decision. After a moment, he points at an item. "This looks good."

You take the phone back, glance at his choice, and nod approvingly. "Nice choice."

You place your own order right after his and pay for both meals before Seonghwa can protest. He notices and frowns slightly, shifting as if he’s about to say something, but you shake your head.

"It’s my treat," you say simply.

Seonghwa exhales through his nose, amused but not arguing. "I’ll pay next time."

The words slip out so naturally that neither of you reacts at first. But then your brain catches up—next time? Your heart does a small, unexpected flip, but you keep your face neutral. You don’t want to overthink it. Not right now.

Instead, you push yourself up from the floor. "I’m gonna go wash my face. You can use the bathroom too if you want."

Seonghwa nods, and you point him toward the small bathroom before heading in yourself.

You splash cold water on your face, trying to wake yourself up a little. The six-hour LEGO session drained you more than you realized. But at the same time, your heart is still lightly racing from the fact that Seonghwa is here.

You have a professional, mature reputation at university. No one there knows about your love for LEGO, and no one there has ever seen you this comfortable in your own space. Yet here you are, sitting on the floor of your apartment with a guy you just met, waiting for food like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

And the strangest part?

It doesn’t feel weird at all.

After freshening up, you step out and find Seonghwa sitting exactly where you left him, scrolling through his phone. He glances up when he hears you and gestures toward the bathroom. "I’ll go, then."

You nod, and the moment the door closes behind him, you take a deep breath.

What is happening?

You don’t have time to think about it too much because a few minutes later, Seonghwa returns and sits back down like nothing has changed.

You clear your throat. "So… do you build LEGO sets often?"

Seonghwa’s face lights up, and just like that, an easy conversation begins.

For the next twenty minutes, you talk about all the different sets you’ve built. You tell him about the ones you’ve streamed, the ones you keep on display, and even the ones you wish you had. Seonghwa listens intently, nodding along, his own enthusiasm peeking through.

"I have a whole shelf of them," he admits after a while. "I try to keep them organized, but sometimes I just want to rebuild everything."

You smile. "That sounds amazing. Do you have a favorite set?"

Seonghwa hums, thinking. "Probably the Millennium Falcon. It took me forever, but it was worth it."

Your eyes widen. "Wait, the huge one? The collector’s edition?"

He grins, and for the first time tonight, you see a small, excited sparkle in his eyes. "Yeah."

You let out a dramatic gasp. "I’ve always wanted to build that!"

Before Seonghwa can respond, the sound of a knock on your door interrupts the conversation.

Your food is here.

You quickly get up to grab it, thanking the delivery person before bringing the bags back inside. The smell is amazing, and your stomach grumbles in response. You set everything out on the floor, passing Seonghwa his order before taking yours.

For the first few minutes, you both eat in silence, enjoying the food. But soon enough, the conversation resumes naturally.

You talk about LEGO sets, favorite designs, dream builds—things that make both of you light up in different ways. At some point, Seonghwa starts telling you about his job. He doesn’t go into too much detail, but he mentions that he’s always busy, always moving from one project to another.

"You seem really dedicated," you comment between bites.

Seonghwa nods, chewing thoughtfully before replying. "I have to be. It’s not just about me. I have people I don’t want to let down."

His tone is soft but firm, and you can tell that he truly means it. There’s something about the way he talks about his work—something deeply passionate yet careful. Like he carries a lot more than he lets on.

You don’t press for more details, but something in your chest warms at the thought.

The conversation flows easily for the rest of the meal.

By the time you’re both done eating, the plates are empty, and the apartment feels cozier than before. Seonghwa leans back slightly, stretching his arms before glancing at you.

"This was nice," he says simply.

You nod, smiling. "Yeah. It was."

A small pause.

Then—

"What do we do about the LEGO set?"

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden return to the original problem.

Right. The set. The one you both paid for.

You glance at the completed build near the wall and bite your lip. "Well… what do you think?"

Seonghwa tilts his head, considering. Then, after a moment, he smirks.

"How about we do this again sometime?"

Your heart stutters.

"Like… another stream?" you ask carefully.

Seonghwa nods, a hint of amusement in his expression. "Yeah. We still have to figure out what to do with it, right?"

You don’t know why, but your face feels warmer than before. You weren’t expecting this. You thought maybe you’d part ways tonight and never see him again. But now, here he is, suggesting another meeting.

And you realize—

You want to see him again.

You want to keep talking, to keep building, to keep discovering all these little things about him.

So you meet his gaze, and with a small smile, you nod.

"Okay. Let’s do it again."

Seonghwa’s smirk softens into something gentler. He nods back.

"Good."

And just like that, something shifts between you.

Something new. Something exciting. Something you can’t quite name yet. But whatever it is…

You’re looking forward to it.

-----

Three weeks pass in a blur.

You don’t talk to Seonghwa after the livestream—not because you don’t want to, but because neither of you makes the first move. You exchanged numbers that night, a simple, quiet exchange with no promises attached. You thought about texting him once or twice, maybe to ask how he was doing or if he had built any new LEGO sets since then. But every time, you hesitated.

What if he was just being polite that night? What if he didn’t actually mean to meet again?

So, life went on.

University kept you busy with classes, assignments, and group projects. Your livestreams continued, your hands assembling bricks on camera, but there was something missing. Some nights, when you sat on the floor of your apartment, scrolling through your phone, you found yourself staring at Seonghwa’s contact.

Should I text him first?

You never did.

And then suddenly—

Bzzz.

A notification pops up on your phone in the middle of your lecture. You glance down, expecting it to be from a friend or a reminder about an upcoming deadline.

Instead, it’s from Seonghwa.

Your heart skips a beat. It’s a picture. A LEGO Millennium Falcon box.

Seonghwa: "Wanna build it together?"

Your fingers tighten around your phone. You blink, rereading the message at least three times before your brain fully processes it. Seonghwa is texting you. And not just texting—you can practically hear his voice in the message. Calm. Casual. Like it hasn’t been three weeks since you last spoke.

You type back, trying to keep your hands steady.

You: "When?"

Seonghwa: "I’m free this evening."

You: "I’m down. Ready for this."

As soon as you send it, you slap a hand over your mouth. You probably sound too excited. Too eager. But before you can regret it, another message comes in.

Seonghwa: "Okay. I’ll send you my address."

And then, a moment later, a location appears on your screen.

You smile the rest of the lecture.

-----

The moment your lecture ends, you practically bolt out of the building. You catch the metro, tapping your foot impatiently as the train moves through the city. You check your phone more times than necessary, making sure you have the address right.

Eventually, you reach the correct stop and step out into a part of the city you don’t visit often. The streets are clean, lined with tall buildings that gleam under the evening sky. It’s quiet. Modern. The kind of place that feels expensive without being flashy.

Seonghwa lives here?

You follow the directions, weaving through the streets until you find the right building. It’s tall, sleek, and way too nice compared to your student apartment. The lobby alone looks like something out of a high-end hotel, with polished floors and a massive chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

You swallow.

Just how successful is he?

Shaking off your nerves, you make your way to the elevator and press the button for the floor Seonghwa mentioned. Your heart pounds a little faster with every passing second.

When the elevator doors open, you step into a quiet hallway. You glance around, searching for the right door number. Finally, after a few steps, you find it.

Taking a deep breath, you raise your hand and press the doorbell.

A few moments pass.

Then—

The door swings open.

And standing there, dressed in casual black sweats, hair slightly tousled, looking effortlessly cool and handsome, is Seonghwa. He meets your gaze. His lips twitch slightly, like he’s fighting back a small smile.

"Hey," he says, stepping aside. "Come in."

You swallow. This is real.

And as you step inside, the door clicking shut behind you, you realize—

You’re about to spend the evening building LEGO with Seonghwa.

Again.

And for some reason… that makes your chest feel lighter than it has in weeks.

As you step into Seonghwa’s apartment, the first thing you do is take in your surroundings. It’s nothing like your small student apartment—it’s spacious, with large windows letting in the soft evening glow. The furniture is modern but cozy, with a few personal touches scattered around the living space.

Seonghwa notices you looking and tilts his head slightly. “I live with two friends,” he says casually, walking further inside. “But they’re both away right now.”

You nod, feeling a little relieved. You don’t know why, but the thought of meeting his roommates right away makes you feel a little nervous. It’s easier like this—just the two of you, without any extra eyes.

Seonghwa gestures for you to follow him down the hall, and you do, curious about where he’s leading you. After a moment, he stops in front of a door, pushing it open and stepping aside so you can enter first.

It takes you less than a second to realize where you are.

His room.

But more importantly—

Your eyes widen as you take in the massive collection of LEGO sets displayed on the shelves and along the walls.

Some are familiar, ones you’ve dreamed of owning but could never justify spending money on. Others you’ve never even seen in real life before. You step closer, carefully scanning the shelves, recognizing Star Wars ships, intricate buildings, and massive structures that must have taken hours—no, days—to complete.

“This is amazing,” you breathe, eyes darting from one set to another. “I’ve only ever seen some of these online.”

Seonghwa chuckles behind you, the sound soft. “Yeah? I’ve been collecting for a while now.”

You glance at him over your shoulder. “Some of these are insanely expensive. You must really love building.”

His expression turns a little sheepish. “I do,” he admits. “Whenever I have time, I like to just sit down and work on something new. It helps me relax.”

You smile. “I get that.”

For a few moments, you admire his collection in comfortable silence. There’s something about standing here, in a space so personal to him, that makes your chest feel warm. You’re used to building alone, sharing your love for LEGO through a screen, never really sharing the experience with someone else in person. But Seonghwa—he gets it.

Eventually, Seonghwa leads you back to the living room, where a massive box sits waiting for you. You recognize it immediately—the Millennium Falcon set.

He gestures for you to sit, and you do, still buzzing with excitement. But as you scan the room, you can’t help but feel like something is missing. Your eyes flicker to the corners of the room, searching for something specific.

A camera.

You hesitate for a moment before asking, “Are we streaming this?”

Seonghwa shakes his head. “No. Not this time.”

You blink at him, a little surprised. “Oh.”

“I just… prefer to build without a record sometimes,” he explains, rubbing the back of his neck. “Feels more personal that way.”

You nod, understanding. In a way, you agree. Livestreaming is fun, but there’s something special about building just for the sake of it—without an audience, without distractions.

With that settled, you reach for the box, unable to hold back your excitement. “Should we start, then?”

Seonghwa smiles, and just like that, the evening truly begins. The moment you unbox the set, your heart skips a beat.

The sound of rustling plastic, the sight of neatly packed LEGO pieces, the smell of fresh bricks—it’s all so familiar, so comforting. You run your fingers over the instruction booklet, already eager to begin.

Seonghwa watches you with amusement. “You really love this, don’t you?”

You glance up at him, grinning. “You don’t?”

“I do,” he admits. “But I think I may like seeing you get excited more.”

Your cheeks warm at his words, but before you can react, Seonghwa reaches into the box and starts sorting the plastic packages. He hands you the first set of pieces, letting you take the lead.

“You can build most of it,” he says. “I already did one before.”

Your head snaps up. “Wait—you already built this?”

Seonghwa nods. “Yeah, a while ago.”

You remember that you just saw one finished in his room. Why did he have two of these? “Then why did you buy another one?”

He shrugs, looking away for a second. “Felt like a good excuse to build with you.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

For a moment, you don’t know what to say. Your fingers tighten around the plastic package, and you will yourself to stay calm.

Maybe he doesn’t mean anything by it. Maybe he just wanted company. Still, the warmth in your chest lingers. Shaking off the feeling, you focus on the build.

The two of you fall into an easy rhythm. You concentrate on the small details, carefully assembling each section while Seonghwa helps with sorting pieces. Occasionally, he reaches over to connect a part you’re struggling with, his long fingers brushing yours in the process. Each time, your heart stutters just a little.

Between the quiet clicking of bricks, you talk.

You tell him about your studies, the stress of group projects, the pressure of balancing work and university. He listens attentively, nodding along and occasionally asking questions. Then he shares his own experiences—his rehearsals, his schedules, the ups and downs of his work. Still he doesn’t say clearly what he does for a living so you have to guess what it could be. He looks good so maybe he is a model?

The conversation is surprisingly comfortable.

You weren’t expecting this, weren’t expecting to feel so at ease in his presence. You had assumed the silence would be awkward, but it’s not. It’s natural.

Somewhere in the middle of the building, Seonghwa’s phone vibrates. He checks it quickly, typing out a short reply before setting it down again.

You glance at him curiously. “Busy?”

He shakes his head. “Not really.”

“Who was it?”

“A friend,” he says simply. Then, after a beat, he adds, “Wooyoung.”

You raise an eyebrow. That name… Why did it also sound so familiar?

“Should I be worried?” you ask just in case.

Seonghwa lets out a soft laugh. “Probably.”

You grin but don’t press further. Instead, you return to the build, feeling lighter than you have in weeks.

As the hours pass, you lose track of time.

Eventually, as you place the last piece, you lean back, stretching your arms.

“We did it,” you say, staring at the completed Falcon. “Again.”

Seonghwa exhales, admiring the build. “Looks good.”

You glance at him, smiling. “Thanks for inviting me.”

His gaze flickers to yours. “Thanks for coming.”

The room falls into a comfortable silence, and for a moment, neither of you move. Then, Seonghwa speaks again, voice softer this time.

“Do you want to stay for dinner?”

Your heart skips a beat. You glance at the time—it’s late, but not too late. You could go home. But instead, you find yourself nodding.

“Yeah,” you say. “I’d like that.”

And just like that, the night isn’t over yet.

-----

Seonghwa moves toward the kitchen with an easy grace, his long fingers swiftly opening the fridge. He leans in, scanning the shelves before pulling out a few containers. “Are you okay with yesterday’s leftovers?” he asks, glancing at you.

You nod without hesitation. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

Seonghwa starts gathering utensils, and after a moment, you step forward to join him, standing beside the counter as he prepares the meal. The kitchen is cozy, the soft hum of the refrigerator filling the silence. You find yourself watching him as he moves, the way his hands handle everything with precision. There’s something comforting about it, something oddly domestic.

Just as you’re about to ask if he needs help, the sound of the front door opening interrupts the quiet atmosphere.

Your eyebrows lift slightly.

Seonghwa stills for a fraction of a second before exhaling, his shoulders subtly tensing. He turns to you, an unreadable expression in his eyes. “So… my roommates just got home.”

You blink. “Oh.”

He hesitates before asking, “Would you rather not meet them? I can… I don’t know, send them to their rooms or something.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “It’s their home. I should introduce myself.”

Seonghwa studies your face for a moment, then nods. “Alright. Just… don’t be too surprised.”

You narrow your eyes slightly. “Why would I be surprised?”

Before he can answer, a loud voice cuts through the apartment.

“YAH, PARK SEONGHWA! WHY DID YOU SKIP PRACTICE TODAY?”

You jump slightly at the sudden outburst, and before you can even process what’s happening, two tall figures stride into the kitchen. The moment you see their faces, everything clicks.

San. Mingi.

Park Seonghwa.

Your breath catches. The pieces fall into place so quickly that you can’t believe you didn’t realize it sooner.

Seonghwa. Wooyoung. San. Mingi.

Ateez.

The names that had felt so familiar. The way Seonghwa had looked like someone you had seen before. Now, standing in the kitchen with two more members in front of you, the realization hits you like a truck.

San, the one who had yelled, stops mid-step when he sees you, his eyebrows raising slightly. Mingi, standing beside him, takes one look at you, then at Seonghwa, and his lips curl into a sly smile.

Seonghwa sighs, rubbing his temple. “I knew this would be awkward.”

San’s eyes dart back and forth between you and Seonghwa. “Uh… are we interrupting something?”

You open your mouth, but no words come out.

Mingi nudges San’s arm, smirking. “Dude, I think we just walked into something interesting.”

Seonghwa lets out a frustrated sigh. “No, you didn’t. We were just—” He gestures toward the counter where the food is. “—getting something to eat.”

San crosses his arms, clearly intrigued. “And who’s this?”

Seonghwa glances at you, waiting to see if you want to introduce yourself.

You swallow, trying to ignore the way your heart is racing. “Uh… I’m y/n.”

Mingi tilts his head. “And how exactly do you know Seonghwa?”

You hesitate, unsure how much to say. You glance at Seonghwa, silently asking if he wants to explain.

He exhales before answering. “We met at a LEGO store.”

San and Mingi blink.

Mingi bursts into laughter first, his deep chuckles filling the kitchen. “Wait, wait. You met at a LEGO store?”

San looks between the two of you, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You mean to tell me… Seonghwa finally found someone to build LEGO with in real life?”

Seonghwa groans. “Why do you make it sound like a miracle?”

“Because it is,” Mingi quips. “You never let us help you. And now, suddenly, there’s a girl here, and you’re making dinner together?”

You cough, feeling warmth rise to your cheeks. “I mean, it’s just leftovers…”

Mingi wiggles his eyebrows. “Leftovers together.”

Seonghwa scowls at him. “Go away, Mingi.”

San, still watching you carefully, suddenly narrows his eyes. “Wait a second…”

You tense.

He takes a step closer, studying you as if trying to piece something together. “Have we seen you before?”

Your heartbeat picks up.

“I don’t think so”, you answer honestly. “I mean, I wouldn’t think so at least?”

“I think I have heard your voice somewhere?” San says.

Mingi, catching onto San’s train of thought, snaps his fingers. “Wait. Your voice—” His eyes widen. “Do you do LEGO live streams?”

Your stomach drops and you look at Seonghwa. Seonghwa mutters something under his breath and crosses his arms, looking mildly annoyed that the conversation has turned in this direction.

You force yourself to nod slowly. “Uh… yeah.”

San gasps dramatically. “I KNEW IT.”

Mingi grins. “Oh, this is great. We’ve heard your streams before. We went to look at Seonghwa’s room and he was looking-.”

Your cheeks feel a little warm when you keep looking at Seonghwa. The last streams you had done with a voice was over a few years ago. Did Seonghwa search your channel after your stream together?

Seonghwa glares at his members and speaks before Mingi manages to finish his sentence. “You guys are embarrassing her.”

San laughs. “Oh, we’re embarrassing her? You’re the one who brought her home and skipped practice and watched her old videos!”

Seonghwa sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I told Hongjoong I was taking the day off.”

Mingi winks. “To build LEGO with a pretty girl?”

Seonghwa smacks Mingi’s arm.

You bite your lip, torn between embarrassment and amusement. You hadn’t expected this night to turn into a full interrogation session by two of Ateez’s most chaotic members.

San leans against the counter, eyes twinkling with curiosity. “So, are you guys just LEGO buddies, or…?”

Seonghwa groans. “San.”

“What?” San shrugs. “I’m just saying. This is the first time you’ve brought a girl home that wasn’t one of our staff or friends we already know.”

You clear your throat, trying to salvage whatever dignity you have left. “We’re just friends.”

Mingi hums. “For now.”

Seonghwa looks done. “Both of you, out.”

San grins. “Alright, alright. We’ll leave you lovebirds alone.”

Seonghwa grabs the nearest kitchen towel and throws it at San, who dodges with a laugh. Mingi chuckles, grabbing a water bottle before nudging San toward the hallway.

“Have fun, you two. Don’t go wild with your LEGOs,” Mingi teases as they exit.

When they’re finally gone, you exhale, feeling like you just survived a storm.

Seonghwa shakes his head. “I am so sorry about them.”

You laugh, the tension finally easing. “It’s okay. They’re funny.”

Seonghwa sighs, rubbing his temple. “Too funny.”

You smile, glancing at him. “So… they really think this is a date, huh?”

Seonghwa meets your gaze, something unreadable in his expression. Then, after a moment, he simply says,

“Would it be so bad if it was?”

Your breath catches. You weren’t expecting that. Your heart starts pounding again, but this time, for an entirely different reason.

You look at Seonghwa, his dark eyes watching you with patience, a hint of nervousness hidden beneath his composed expression. You take a breath, letting the weight of his words settle.

“Is it okay if I think about it?” you ask softly.

Seonghwa doesn’t hesitate. “Of course,” he says, his voice steady but gentle. “I don’t want to pressure you.”

You nod, glancing at the half-prepared food on the counter before looking back at him. “What would your manager say about you dating?”

Seonghwa lets out a quiet chuckle, leaning against the counter. “You’d have to find out.”

You tilt your head. “Meaning?”

He smirks slightly, crossing his arms. “Meaning there’s no strict no-dating rule. It’s not forbidden or anything. As long as it doesn’t interfere with work and I’m responsible about it, it’s my choice.”

Your fingers drum against the counter absentmindedly. “That makes sense.”

He watches you, waiting. You can tell he’s not the type to push—he’s letting you come to your own conclusion.

You exhale, shaking your head with a soft laugh. “You know, I saw Mingi’s picture on some magazine a while ago, and then I’d see him on social media sometimes. Seeing him was when I finally connected the dots.”

Seonghwa raises an eyebrow. “And what do you think now that you’ve figured it out?”

You give him a thoughtful look. “I think… it’s part of who you are. And if I were to try this out, I’d have to accept that.”

He nods, a small smile forming on his lips. “That’s true.”

You bite your lip, the idea of dating Seonghwa swirling in your mind. You think back to the way you’ve laughed with him, how natural it’s been to build LEGO sets together, how easy it is to talk to him.

And you think—if building LEGO is this much fun, what would happen if you could take trips to LEGO Land together? Or visit big LEGO stores? Would he get as excited as you over new sets? Would he drag you into limited edition events?

Your mind starts painting all these little possibilities, and before you can stop yourself, you’re already smiling at the thought.

From the other room, you suddenly hear a loud voice yell:

“JUST SAY YES!”

Your eyes widen as you snap your head toward the hallway. A second voice follows from another room:

“PLEASE SAY YES, HE’LL BE SAD OTHERWISE!”

You slap a hand over your mouth, muffling your laugh as Seonghwa groans beside you, dragging a hand down his face. “Oh my god.”

“They were eavesdropping?” you ask between laughs.

“They’re always eavesdropping,” Seonghwa mutters.

You shake your head, the warmth in your chest growing. Looking at Seonghwa, you see the faintest tint of red on his ears, and for some reason, that makes your heart race.

You glance toward the food still waiting to be finished, then back at Seonghwa.

“Well,” you say, tilting your head playfully. “We could start by eating this and… see where it goes?”

Seonghwa’s expression shifts—surprise flickers in his eyes before it softens into something warmer. A slow smile tugs at his lips, and he nods.

“I’d like that,” he says.

And as the two of you turn back to the meal, the voices of his noisy roommates still snickering in the background, you realize that maybe—just maybe—this is the start of something really, really fun.

The End.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa #seonghwa x reader

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