#moodboard/drabble

[artspats]

Smartie

Her shoes scraped against the tile floor, her head down as she picked at the threads of her old tennis bag. She should’ve been more focused, should’ve been better today, but it wasn’t happening. Not after the way Art had been looking at her all afternoon.

She hated this feeling. That weird pit in her stomach when she didn’t know where she stood with him. He’d barely said anything during practice, his eyes darting between her and the other girls.

Just as she was about to push open the locker room door, she felt a hand grab her wrist.

"Hey."

It wasn’t a question. It was his voice, low and firm, dragging her attention back to him.

Before she could pull away, he was already stepping closer, his fingers wrapping around her arm, guiding her around the corner of the locker rooms.

“Hey,” he said, just loud enough to be heard. “We need to talk.”

His touch lingered, a bit desperate.

She glanced back at the door, feeling that twist of guilt. Maybe she was overreacting, maybe she should just get over herself, but the weight of it all—his distance, the coldness—felt like it was suffocating her.

She didn’t even notice when they were already out in the hallway, out of sight.

“Art,” she said softly, but he wasn’t listening. His eyes were fixed on her, like he was trying to figure out what was wrong. He was close now, too close for comfort.

He stopped, his hand on her shoulder, his touch oddly gentle now. “What the hell happened out there?”

Her jaw tightened. “I don’t want to talk, not right now—“

He cocked his head, eyes narrowing slightly. "What is this all about?, tell me" His tone was quieter now, almost as if he was confused by her sudden outburst.

“I feel like you act like you care, but when it comes to anyone else…” She trailed off, her voice barely a whisper. The jealousy gnawed at her.

Art’s expression softened in a way that made her heart race. He leaned in, just a little, the subtle movement like a promise of something she couldn’t quite understand.

“You’re different,” he said, almost too smoothly. “You know that. You’re the one who stands out. I’m trying to help these other girls to get near your level, but it’s impossible, they can’t even compare to you,”

“You always say that,”

His voice dropped even lower, a trace of sweetness behind the words that made her heart skip. “Why do you think I do?”

She couldn’t breathe. His words were like a weight, a pressure that she felt somewhere deep inside. He was looking at her like she was everything—like she mattered more than any of the other girls who were desperate for his attention.

“You know I don’t like anyone else like I like you, right?” he murmured, a subtle hint of something darker behind his words.

The room seemed to narrow in on her, the walls closing in. She should’ve pulled away. She should’ve told him that it wasn’t right, that this wasn’t normal. But all she could do was stare at him, her chest tight with the ache of wanting something she couldn’t explain.

She opened her mouth to speak but found nothing.

His hand brushed the side of her face, a tender, almost affectionate touch. "Come here." He pulled her in without waiting for an answer, his arms wrapping around her with a slow, deliberate ease.

She let herself sink into the embrace, her body softening against his. His hands were warm, steady, like he was trying to make her forget all the things she knew in the back of her mind. His lips brushed the top of her head, the kiss lingering just long enough to make her heart race. Her cheek smushed against his sharp collarbone, and it felt wrong but so right, just like what she felt for him.

“Let’s take five, okay?” His voice was soft, but the command was still there. "You're the one that matters to me. The rest? just noise." His palms subtly wrap around each of her lats, it almost feels like comfort.

“Come on,” he whispered against her hair. “Ain’t you my smart girl?”

Her stomach flipped, the words curling around her like a soft, dangerous lullaby. She felt something stir within her, something she didn’t want to acknowledge, something that made her feel... special.

"Yes," she murmured, barely able to hear herself over the rush of blood in her ears. "I'm your smart girl." She inhaled, the faint smell of fresh laundry from his jacket barely appearing and followed by his cologne.

Art pulled her just a little closer, there was something in the way he held her, like she wasn’t allowed to think, to doubt, to question it. She just closed her eyes, and let him keep whispering sweet lies that made her believe she was everything he wanted.

@matchpointfaist ;)

Part 1: Baseline

Part 3: Needy

Part 4: Greedy

Part 5: Heady

[rafescherie]

✮⋆˙ rafe becomes possessively obsessed with the idea of breeding you.

warnings — 18+. MDNI. breeding kink, unprotected sex.

cherie's note — breeding kink rafe makes my brain go brrrr

every single one of his thrusts are calculated and methodical — like he’d spent hours researching the exact position he had you folded in, thighs pressed snug against your chest as he drives himself into your tight hole. his free hand finds your swollen little clit, the sensation mingling with the constant nudge of his cock kissing your cervix with each slow, purposeful push.

your thighs burn in the best way — muscles stretched and trembling as he holds your legs apart with firm hands, your body slack beneath him, completely pliant in his hold. eyes rolling, lips parted, the room is thick with every sinful sound — panting, whining, and the obscene squelch of skin meeting skin.

because rafe has one thing in mind — breeding.

and from this angle, it’s perfect, he can flood your fertile cunt with everything he has, a shameless, hopeful attempt to stuff you so full, your womb wouldn’t dare reject him. the thought alone is enough to keep him going — keeping you warm, swollen, and full of him.

it was ultimate ownership — and rafe, being the possessive little shit he was, that idea fit right in line with his vision for his future. everyone on the island would know who you belonged to, especially with a few babies identical to him on your hip, or running between your legs — ocean-blue eyes and dirty blond hair. nevermind the fat diamond ring on your finger, or the dark plum hickeys marked on the skin of your neck, you’d have no other choice than to keep him in your life — and selfishly, he wouldn’t want it any other way.

“want you swollen and round f’me, pretty girl,” he pants out desperately, the sound of skin slapping skin drowning out everything else. “gonna fill you up, give me a baby or two… make you my wife…”

your moan rips through the air, raw and breathless, your stomach tightening under the weight of his filthy promises. you’re already overstimulated, already ruined, and he knows it — which is exactly why he slows, savoring every reaction as your walls flutter and squeeze around him.

and when he finally spills deep inside of you, it’s not the end — not even close. he fucks it deeper with slow, dragging thrusts, like he’s trying to make sure every drop sticks. his thick cock drags against the sensitive walls of your pulsing cunt, driving in-and-out of you with determination.

“jus’ makin’ sure this one takes, baby,” he murmurs, breathless, pushing himself in to the hilt with every roll of his hips. “not done ‘til i know it took.”

and when he groans your name like a promise, it leaves no doubt — you were his to fill. over and over again.

[maybanksprincess]

trouble sleeping? // j.m

warnings: fluff, cuddling, kissing, pet names.

summary: jjs girlfriend is having trouble sleeping <3

small blurb for my baby @jjblunts requested by this ask, i hope you like it!

for a couple days now, you've been having sleeping problems. when you lay in bed, you toss and turn for hours until you fall asleep, waking up with a sore back and grouchy from the lack of sleep.

however, jj has been noticing the slight changes in appearance and mood from you. he's been noticing dark circles starting to form, and the way you've been super quiet all day, and drinking multiple cups of coffee to stay awake.

he didnt know what was going on, but he knew he wanted to help. so tonight, instead of laying on the couch, he comes in to sleep with you instead.

you had been laying on your back, desperately trying to get just an ounce of sleep, but there was no use. you let out a huff of frustration and turn onto your side, hugging the pillows close to you.

as your fighting to fall asleep, you hear the door creaking, meaning someone has entered the room. you open you eyes to see the blonde standing above you.

he reaches down to carress your cheek, rubbing the pad of his thumb across it. "hey babydoll. you cant sleep?" he asks softly.

you smile softly up at him, a tired and weak smile on your face. "no..." you shake your head.

he sighs, sliding into bed next to you gently moving you over by your waist to make room for him. "why didn't you tell me baby? you know i would've came to sleep with you." he says, running his fingers through your hair gently.

you lean into his touch, resting your head on his pec. "i dunno, didn't wanna bother you..."

he chuckles softly "baby your never bothering me. jus' go to sleep, hm?" he says, and moves your hair away from your face to kiss your forehead.

within minutes, your softly snoring in his arms, your face buried in the crook of his neck.

he smiles, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. "sweet dreams, sweetheart." he says before falling asleep, holding your body against his protectively.

[kiszjuli]

𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 ──── [𝐋.𝐃𝐇] 𓈒  𓈒  𓈒 

( 이동혁 ) ; 𝐟𝐞𝗺!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐝𝗼𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐜𝐤

──── in which your parents had always told you to stay away from boys like haechan. boys with cocky smirks, black eye liner, bruised knuckles, and a reputation that came with warning labels. you never had a reason to listen until you were assigned to tutor him after school. it should have been simple. help him pass, get it over with. but there’s something about him that drew you in, and you didn’t want to pull away.

✦ drama, fluff/angst, slow burn(ish). forbidden love? ; tags. goodgirl!reader x badboy!haechan, suggestive, your parents are literal jerks, swearing, mentions of fighting, kissing !!, protective!haechan, corruption? but not really, lmk if i missed any ! ;

𓂃 w.c [ 15.3k / 22.7k ]

!! not proofread !!

▸ j.note ; i hadn’t planned on making this fic so long but emo haechan does something to me i guess. also pls pls give feedback i want to improve my writings in the best way possible and i know my writing needs a lot of work, so constructive criticism is encouraged.

▸ this is part one of two and part two can be found here .ᐟ

© kiszjuli 2025 ⟳ likes & reblogs are appreciated

you had never been the type to chase trouble.

your life had always been structured, predictable, mapped out like a perfectly folded brochure of all the things you were supposed to be. the good daughter. the responsible student. the girl who never gave anyone a reason to worry.

your parents raised you with expectations as solid as the fence that surrounded your house. good grades, early curfews, polite smiles at dinners. you were the kind of girl who double-checked her answers before turning in a test, who texted home before she was even late, who never spoke back even when she wanted to.

it wasn’t that you minded. not really.

your life was safe—comfortable.

weekends were spent with the same close friends, at the same coffee shop on the corner, drinking the same latte every time and reviewing notes for exams that were still weeks away. after school, you went straight home, sometimes stopping by the bookstore if you had extra time, flipping through pages of novels where the main characters lived lives far more reckless than your own.

and you liked it that way. you liked knowing where you belonged, knowing exactly what came next.

because trouble was for other people. rule-breakers, risk-takers. the kind of people who never thought twice about consequences. people who didn’t care.

the kind of people like him. lee donghyuck—or as he preferred to be called, haechan.

lee donghyuck had always been a name whispered in the hallways, wrapped in either amusement or warning. he was the boy who skipped class but somehow still seemed to do well, the boy who wore silver rings on his fingers, black eyeliner and bruises on his knuckles, the boy who flirted with everyone but never let anyone close.

he was reckless in a way that made people watch him like a fire they couldn’t look away from.

and you? you were the girl who had spent her whole life avoiding flames.

—

science had always been your best subject.

there was something reassuring about it—formulas that always worked, reactions that could be predicted, rules that never changed. if you followed the steps, you got the right answer. it was logical. reliable.

but not everyone saw it that way.

from the back of the classroom, haechan let out a quiet sigh, loud enough that a few students glanced his way. he was slouched over his desk, barely pretending to take notes, the end of his pen tapping lazily against his open textbook.

“can anyone explain why increasing the concentration of reactants speeds up a chemical reaction?” the teacher asked.

your hand went up without hesitation.

“because a higher concentration means more particles in the same space,” you answered. “so there’s a greater chance of collisions between them.”

“correct,” your teacher said, nodding approvingly.

from the corner of your eye, you caught movement. haechan had lifted his head just enough to glance in your direction, his gaze slow and assessing. when you turned to meet it, he didn’t look away, but just studied you, the corner of his lips twitching like he was in on some joke you weren’t part of.

your teacher moved on, scribbling equations across the board, but haechan didn’t so much as pretend to care. he stretched, tipping his chair back onto two legs, hands folded lazily over his stomach, like he was just waiting for the bell to save him from all of this.

you turned back toward the front, exhaling through your nose. it annoyed you, yet you didn’t know why.

it didn’t matter, it had nothing to do with you.

he didn’t matter.

or at least, that’s what you had always thought until today.

—

you were halfway through packing your books when you heard your name.

“could you stay back for a moment,” your teacher said, just as the last bell rang.

you paused, glancing up as students shuffled past your desk, their conversations blending into white noise. you couldn’t think of a single reason you’d need to stay—your grades were perfect, your assignments were always on time, and you definitely didn’t cause any trouble.

but then the teacher said another name.

“donghyuck, you too.” you heard him correct the teacher of his name under his breath.

your fingers curled around the thick textbook you were shoving in your bag.

he was slouched at his desk, twirling a silver ring around his finger, eyes half-lidded like he hadn’t gotten enough sleep. it took him a second to react, but when he did, it was with an exaggerated sigh, dragging himself upright like even this was too much effort.

the classroom emptied around you until it was just the three of you, the weight of the silence settling in as the teacher folded her arms over her desk.

“haechan,” she started, “you’re failing. if you don’t pass your next exam, you’re going to have to repeat this class. and you know what that means.”

he leaned back on the closest desk to the teacher’s, completely unfazed, crossing his arms. “that i get the pleasure of spending another semester with you?”

your teacher didn’t so much as blink. “it means you will not graduate with your class. you need this credit.”

that got a reaction. his arms uncrossed as haechan’s smirk slipped, just slightly.

“which is why,” she continued, turning to you, “you’re going to tutor him.”

your mouth parted slightly. “wait—”

“you’re the top of this class,” she cut in, before you could protest. “if anyone can help him pass, it’s you.”

you swallowed. the request made sense—on paper. but logic didn’t stop the heat of his gaze as it flickered toward you, as he finally seemed to take you in.

slowly, he let his eyes drag up and down, taking his time.

your unwrinkled clothes. your neatly done hair. the way you clutched your bag like it was a lifeline.

his lips curled at the edges, something amused, something almost lazy, and yet, you felt it. the weight of being looked at like that.

“seriously?” he drawled, tilting his head, eyes still on you. “her?”

your spine straightened. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

he smiled like he’d already won. “nothing, sweetheart.”

your teacher exhaled sharply, already tired of him. “this isn’t optional. you’ll meet and study together, and if i hear that you’ve skipped even once, i will not hesitate to let you keep your failing grade. understood?”

haechan sighed, tipping his head back like this was the greatest inconvenience of his life. then, with the ghost of a smirk still tugging at his lips, he muttered, “yeah, yeah. whatever you say.”

you could already tell. this was going to be impossible.

—

you walk out of the classroom first, stepping a little harder than intended. this wasn’t how you planned to spend your semester. tutoring some guy who didn’t even try, who slouched in his seat like he was too good for all of it, who looked at you like you were something to be amused by.

the hallway was mostly empty now, students already heading home or to their next activities. you were almost free, when a voice called out behind you.

“so, tutor, when do we start?”

you didn’t stop walking. “the library. after school tomorrow.”

haechan caught up easily, his pace unhurried, like this was all some joke to him. “ugh, the library?” he groaned. “how predictable.”

you glanced at him, unimpressed. “where else are we supposed to study? a convenience store?”

“actually, yeah.” he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, shooting you a smirk. “sounds more fun. we could get snacks. maybe a drink. aren’t tutors supposed to motivate their students?”

you exhaled sharply. he’s messing with you. you knew it, and yet, somehow, he still got under your skin.

“you don’t need motivation,” you said flatly. “you just need to study.”

“eh, debatable,” he mused. “i think what i need is a tutor who’s a little more flexible. less ‘strict teacher,’ more ‘cute classmate who wants to help me succeed.’”

you stopped walking.

haechan took a few more steps before realizing you weren’t next to him anymore. he turned, an eyebrow raised, just as you crossed your arms.

“okay, let’s get something straight,” you said, voice firm. “this isn’t a favor. i don’t want to tutor you, but i have to. and i don’t care if you think it’s boring or predictable, because it’s either this or you fail. so if you actually want my help, show up tomorrow. on time. otherwise, don’t waste my time.”

for a second, he just looked at you, head tilted like he was reevaluating something.

then, instead of answering, he let his gaze drag over you, slowly, like he was seeing you for the first time.

you stiffened under the weight of it, but refused to look away.

after a beat, he grinned.

“damn,” he murmured, almost to himself. “you’ve got a little fire under all that perfection, huh?”

you huffed, turning on your heel. “just be there.”

“yes, ma’am.”

you ignored him.

but as you walked away, you could still feel his smirk and stare burning into your back.

—

you barely stepped through the front door before your mom called out from the kitchen.

“you’re home later than usual.”

you set your bag down by the entryway, slipping off your shoes. “the teacher kept me after class.”

that was enough to get both of your parents’ attention. your dad looked up from where he sat on the couch, while your mom leaned against the counter, a slight crease forming between her brows.

“for what?” she asked, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel.

you exhaled, already bracing yourself. “she assigned me to tutor someone. he’s failing, and she thinks I can help him pass.”

your dad hummed approvingly. “well, that’s nice of you. who is it?”

you hesitated for half a second.

“haechan.”

the shift in the room was immediate. your mom stilled, and your dad turned completely this time, exchanging a glance with her before turning back to you.

“him?” your mom repeated, her voice careful.

“yes, him.” you folded your arms. “why does it sound like you already know who he is?”

your dad sighed, setting the paper aside. “people talk, sweetheart. he’s got a reputation.”

you rolled your eyes. “so what? he slacks off in class?”

your mom pursed her lips. “it’s more than that. skipping school, getting into trouble, hanging around the wrong crowds…” she trailed off, shaking her head. “just—be careful around him, honey.”

there it was. the warning.

and, of course, the assumption that you couldn’t think for yourself.

you sighed, rubbing your temple. “i’m not hanging out with him. i’m tutoring him. in the library. with textbooks.” you glanced between them. “pretty sure that’s not a crime.”

your mom didn’t look convinced, and your dad only leaned back in his seat, his expression unreadable.

“just don’t let him pull you into anything,” he said. “kids like that don’t change.”

you bit the inside of your cheek, a flicker of irritation curling in your chest.

they made it sound like you were helpless. like the second you spent time with him, you’d suddenly throw your whole life away. everything you’ve built for yourself.

you shook your head. “it’s not that serious.”

and before either of them could say anything else, you grabbed your bag and headed for your room, shutting the door with a little more force than necessary.

they were overreacting.

they didn’t know him.

and neither did you.

—

session one - monday february 23rd

the school day dragged.

it wasn’t any different from usual; classes, notes, the occasional group discussion, but today, there was a lingering awareness hanging over you. a ticking clock in the back of your mind, counting down to the inevitable.

you weren’t looking forward to tutoring haechan. but you had a job to do, and if he didn’t show, well… that was his problem, not yours.

by the time the final bell rang, you had already secured a table in the library, setting out your textbook, notebook, and a few highlighters. everything was neatly arranged. you had a plan, a structured breakdown of the material he needed to catch up on.

and yet, fifteen minutes passed.

then twenty.

you checked your phone, tapping your pen against your notes.

was he seriously going to ditch on the first day?

finally, you heard footsteps approaching, and then a familiar voice, drawling, “damn. you’re really taking this seriously, huh?”

you glanced up to see haechan standing there, hands in his pockets, looking completely unfazed. like he hadn’t just wasted almost half an hour of your time.

you exhaled sharply. “you’re late.”

“fashionably,” he corrected, dropping into the chair across from you.

you leveled him with a stare. “i don’t think that applies to studying.”

he shrugged. “guess we’ll find out.”

already, your patience was wearing thin. you pushed the textbook toward him, flipping to the section you had marked. “let’s start with reaction rates. you need to understand how—”

he wasn’t listening.

instead of looking at the notes, he was looking at you, head tilted slightly, a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“you always sit this straight?” he mused, tapping his pen against the table.

you blinked, looking up from the textbook. “what?”

“just saying. you’re sitting like you’re taking an exam or something.” he leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head. “relax. tutoring’s not life or death.”

you ignored the heat creeping up your neck and flipped open your notebook instead. “can we focus?”

he hummed, like he was considering it. then, before you could continue, he leaned forward slightly, eyeing your arrangement of highlighters and pens.

“bet you highlight in, like, five different colors.”

you clenched your jaw. four, actually, but you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of being right.

when you didn’t respond, he grinned, undeterred. “does tutoring me ruin your whole ‘perfect student’ reputation?”

you inhaled slowly, gripping your pen a little tighter. “only if you fail,” you said flatly.

he let out a soft laugh, finally glancing at the textbook. “alright, alright. hit me with the science.”

you exhaled, pushing past your irritation. this was going to be a long session.

but one way or another, you were getting through to him.

—

the next hour closed and you left the library still irritated—but more at yourself than him.

why had your heartbeat picked up when he had leaned in? why had his teasing stuck in your head longer than necessary?

get a grip.

the school hallways were mostly empty by now, just a few stragglers grabbing things from their lockers or heading to practice. you stopped by your own locker, swapping out your books for what you needed, then headed outside.

the late afternoon air was crisp, the sky shifting into a soft orange glow. you walked home, already thinking about how you’d explain the session to your parents.

(you wouldn’t. you’d just tell them it happened and leave it at that.)

continuing your walk, barely making it past the school you hear a voice from behind you.

“yo, tutor.”

your head snapped up.

haechan. again.

he was leaning against a lamppost a few feet away, hands shoved in his pockets, the same knowing smirk playing at his lips.

“we should celebrate.”

you frowned. “celebrate what?”

“me actually getting an answer right, obviously.” he straightened, stretching his arms behind his head. “c’mon, don’t be boring. you never just—i don’t know—do something on a whim?”

you had remembered the question he got right—which was simply the question you had answered yesterday in class. you narrowed your eyes. “if this is your way of trying to get out of studying next time—”

“relax.” he chuckled. “just messing with you. see you at our very serious study session next time, tutor.”

and with that, he strolled off like he hadn’t just left you standing there, your thoughts an even bigger mess than before.

—

session two - wednesday the 25th

you told yourself you wouldn’t get annoyed this time. you even mentally prepared for his usual antics before heading to the library.

it didn’t work.

haechan was late again. this time only by ten minutes, but still. he strolled in with an iced coffee in one hand, a lazy grin on his face like he hadn’t kept you waiting.

“you get extra credit for showing up on time, you know.”

“damn, should’ve known,” he drawled, sliding into the seat across from you. “maybe next time.”

you sighed, pushing the textbook toward him. “no distractions today.”

“that’s asking a lot.”

“it’s not.”

to your surprise, he actually made an effort. at least at first. he followed along as you explained reaction mechanisms, even nodded a few times like he understood. but the second things got even slightly complicated, he leaned back and groaned.

“why do i even need this? it’s not like i’m gonna be a scientist.”

“you need it to pass.”

“passing is overrated.”

“says the guy who’s literally failing.”

he just grinned, spinning his ring around his finger. “touch��, sunshine.”

the nickname caught you off guard, making your stomach flip in a way that was foreign to you. whether he noticed your shift or not, he continued to use the name anytime he talked to you.

progress was slow, but you managed to get through two topics before he started messing around again, twirling his pen, asking dumb hypothetical questions that had nothing to do with chemistry.

“if i fail, do you fail too? since you’re my tutor?”

“no.”

“damn. no stakes for you then, huh?”

“just the overwhelming frustration of having to deal with you.”

“you wound me.” he clutched his chest dramatically, then smirked. “you sure you’re not starting to like our little sessions, though?”

you rolled your eyes. “go home, haechan.”

he laughed as he stood up, giving you a lazy salute before walking off.

session three - friday the 27th

miraculously, haechan was on time. but that didn’t mean he behaved.

“don’t look so shocked, tutor.” he plopped into his usual seat. “i can be responsible when i wanna be.”

“so, you just choose not to be?”

“exactly.”

today, he actually put in a little more effort, asking questions instead of just guessing his way through answers. you started to think, maybe this tutoring thing wouldn’t be a total waste of time.

and then, halfway through, he got bored.

“okay, pop quiz,” he said, snapping his book shut. “if you had to get a tattoo, what would it be?”

you blinked. “we are not doing this.”

“come on, humor me.”

“fine,” you muttered, flipping through your notes. “something small. simple. maybe a quote.”

“predictable,” he teased. “what if i said i’d get your name tattooed?”

you shot him a deadpan look. “then i’d question all of your life choices.”

he laughed, drumming his fingers against the table. “nah, i’d get something cool. a dragon or something. or maybe—” he wiggled his brows. “a chemical equation, just for you.”

“how generous.”

“i try.”

somehow, even with the distractions, he managed to retain at least some of what you covered. as you packed up, he tapped his pen against the table.

“hey, sunshine.”

you glanced up, not missing his smirk at your responding to the name.

“don’t miss me too much over the weekend.”

“leave.”

he laughed all the way out the door.

session four - monday march 2nd

you were already exhausted from the start of the new week, and haechan wasn’t helping.

“mondays shouldn’t exist,” he grumbled, dropping into his chair.

while you agreed, you had to keep him focused. “you still have to study.”

“brutal.”

you launched straight into the material, ignoring his dramatic sighs and complaints about how unfair school was. surprisingly, he focused for a solid thirty minutes—until he caught you tapping your foot.

“you’re impatient today,” he observed, tilting his head.

“or maybe i just want you to actually learn something.”

“i am learning. look,” he pointed at an equation. “i even remember this one.”

you checked. he was right.

“wow,” you deadpanned. “you have a functioning brain after all.”

“careful, that almost sounded like a compliment.”

despite yourself, you bit back a smile.

the session ended with him actually completing the assigned questions, granted, after a lot of coaxing. as you packed up, he tapped the table again, just like last time.

“see you wednesday, sunshine.”

this time, you didn’t tell him to leave.

you did however, roll your eyes as he walked away, still grinning.

—

session five – wednesday the 4th

it was one of those days.

haechan was late—again. not by much, but enough to make you grit your teeth when he finally strolled in, a bag of chips in one hand, looking like he had nowhere better to be.

“don’t look at me like that, sunshine.” he smirked as he slid into his seat. “traffic was brutal.”

“you walk here.”

“damn. caught me.”

you inhaled sharply through your nose, pushing the worksheet toward him. “just start.”

he did. kind of.

five minutes in, he was tapping his pen against the table. ten minutes in, he was spinning his rings. fifteen minutes in, he was leaning back in his chair with a yawn.

“haechan,” you warned.

“hmm?”

“can you at least pretend to care?”

he grinned, resting his chin on his hand. “depends. does it bother you?”

you shook your head. “whatever.”

“relax, sunshine.” he tilted his head. “you’re cute when you’re annoyed.”

you ignored the way heat crept up your neck. “just answer the question.”

he glanced at it. “mm… ‘catalyst slows down a reaction.’”

you shut your eyes, inhaling deeply. “no. it speeds up a reaction—”

“eh, close enough.”

“no, it’s not—” you cut yourself off, exhaling sharply. “are you even trying?”

“nah.”

that was it.

“then why the hell are we even doing this?”

he blinked at you, momentarily caught off guard. but you were already pushing back your chair, stuffing your notes into your bag with sharp, deliberate movements.

“if you fail, that’s your problem. not mine.”

you didn’t wait for a response. just walked out, leaving him sitting there—still smirking, but something in his expression had shifted.

session seven – monday the 9th

the session was supposed to be like any other. you’d prepared the material, you had everything set up, and you were expecting the usual. you didn’t expect haechan to show up on time—or at least not to show up with an actual sense of purpose.

he slung his bag over the chair and slumped down. his usual cocky grin wasn’t there.

“what’s wrong with you?” you asked, surprised at how… serious he seemed.

he didn’t answer right away, instead just staring at the notes in front of him with furrowed brows.

“this is dumb,” he muttered under his breath.

you raised an eyebrow. “what’s dumb? the concept? the subject? or… you?”

he flicked his eyes to you, but there was no usual smirk, just irritation. “all of it.”

you frowned. “this isn’t the usual ‘i don’t care’ routine. what’s going on?”

he didn’t meet your eyes, instead flicking through the textbook like he was hoping to find a way out of this.

“i just don’t get it,” he said, voice tight.

you sat back, eyeing him carefully. you were so used to him breezing through everything, acting like he didn’t care, so this sudden frustration was… different. it threw you off.

“you’ve got this. we’ve gone over it before.”

“yeah, well, it’s not clicking today,” he shot back, rubbing his temples like he was battling a headache.

you leaned forward, speaking more gently than usual. “haechan, this stuff isn’t hard. you just have to stop shutting down every time it gets tough.”

he looked at you for a long moment, eyes soft but frustrated. he clearly didn’t want to admit that maybe, just maybe, you were right.

“i don’t shut down,” he muttered. “it’s just… everything else is easier. this? it feels like i’m failing at something i can’t even explain.”

you blinked, taken aback. haechan never let anything get to him, at least not this much.

“okay,” you said, shifting your tone to something a little more reassuring. “we can take it slow. i’ll help you through it.”

but even as you said it, you knew it wasn’t just about the chemistry. there was something deeper in his frustration—something he wasn’t saying.

he sat back in his chair, massaging his temples. “maybe i just don’t get it because i’m not supposed to. i’m not like you, sunshine.”

“no, you’re not,” you said softly. “but i know you can get it. you have to try.”

there was a long silence between you, and for the first time in a while, you realized that your usual teasing, quick comebacks wouldn’t fix this.

haechan’s eyes met yours for a fleeting second, something raw in them. then, he sighed.

“this is stupid,” he muttered, but there was a softness to his voice. “i’ll try.”

and for once, you believed him.

—

days later, sunday dinner was quiet, just the soft clinking of utensils against plates and the low hum of the tv in the background. your parents had been giving you a look all evening. the kind that meant they had something to say but were waiting for the right moment.

you didn’t have to wait long.

“so,” your mom started, too casually. “how’s tutoring going?”

you didn’t even glance up from your plate. “fine.”

“fine?” your dad echoed. “that’s it?”

you shrugged, poking at your food. “what else is there to say?”

your mom set down her fork. “is he at least putting in effort?”

you huffed. “define effort.”

they exchanged a glance, the kind that made you feel like a kid again, like they already knew exactly what was going on.

“we just want to make sure he’s not wasting your time,” your dad said. “if he’s not serious about learning, you don’t have to keep doing this.”

“he’s… getting better,” you admitted, though you weren’t sure if it was entirely true. he was trying, in his own way, but it was a slow process.

your mom still looked unconvinced. “just be careful, sweetheart.”

you frowned. “careful?”

“boys like him…” she hesitated, choosing her words. “they can be a distraction.”

“he’s not a distraction,” you said immediately, but the way she raised an eyebrow made your stomach twist.

and then— “you’re not getting a crush on him, are you?”

you nearly choked. “what? no. why would you even—?”

“because it happens,” your dad cut in, giving you a pointed look. “you spend enough time with someone, and next thing you know, you start making excuses for them.”

“i’m not making excuses.” you leaned back in your chair, suddenly desperate to get out of this conversation. “and i definitely don’t have a crush on him. it’s just tutoring. that’s it.”

they didn’t argue, but the look in their eyes said enough.

—

session ten – monday the 16th

you weren’t sure why your parents’ question was still echoing in your head. it was ridiculous, really. you didn’t have a crush on him. just because he was annoying, and cocky, and had that stupid smirk that made your stomach flip sometimes—no. not sometimes. never. it didn’t matter.

but still, as you walked into the library, setting your bag down at the usual table, you felt weirdly… off. distracted.

you pulled out your notes, trying to shake the thought, but haechan just had to say something.

“damn, sunshine. you look tense. bad day?”

you jumped slightly at his voice. he was standing next to you now, one hand gripping the chair as he spun it lazily before sitting down. he was late, as usual, but this time you hadn’t even noticed.

“fine,” you said quickly, focusing on your notes.

“you sure?” he tilted his head, leaning forward on the table. “you look like you’ve got something on your mind.”

you did. but there was no way in hell you were going to tell him what.

“it’s nothing,” you said, too quickly. “let’s just get started.”

but as the session went on, you found yourself more distracted than usual. every time he leaned in, every time he ran a hand through his hair, every time he smirked at something that wasn’t even funny, you thought of your parents’ voices in your head.

“you’re not getting a crush on him, are you?”

no. you weren’t. you refused to.

but then he tapped his pen against the table, glancing at you through his lashes. “you’re really off today, sunshine. what’s up?”

and maybe it was the way he said it, or maybe it was the fact that you hated how observant he could be, but you snapped.

“you. you’re up. why do you talk so much?”

he blinked, clearly not expecting that. then, he grinned. “because you like it.”

“i don’t.”

“liar.”

you groaned, running a hand down your face. this session was going to be impossible.

—

session twelve - friday the 20th

you had a feeling he wasn’t going to show up.

maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t texted all day—not that he ever really did, but usually, there was something. some offhand comment about how he was so tired or how he was mentally preparing for another “brutal” study session. but today? nothing.

still, you sat at the usual table, notes spread out, waiting.

and waiting.

and waiting.

until finally, you checked the time and realized it had been forty-five minutes.

you scoffed, shoving your notes back into your bag with more force than necessary. of course he wouldn’t show up. of course, he’d waste your time like this.

this was exactly why you didn’t like him.

not that you had to remind yourself. but things like this. his impulsiveness, his lack of reliability, the way he did whatever he wanted without considering anyone else, made it so much easier to not like him.

except, if that were really true, you wouldn’t be this pissed off.

you stormed out of the library, typing out a single text before shoving your phone deep into your pocket.

“seriously?”

no greeting. no unnecessary words. just that.

and when he didn’t respond, you told yourself you didn’t care.

even though, somehow, he was all you could think about for the rest of the night.

—

the weekend was quite eventful.

saturday -

you weren’t mad.

at least, that’s what you told yourself as you pulled out your laptop that morning, trying to focus on the essay you’d been putting off. it had nothing to do with him. nothing to do with the fact that he’d completely wasted your time yesterday. it wasn’t like you cared.

but when your phone lit up beside you, your heart jumped a little too fast. you grabbed it instinctively. only to see a notification from your bank about your spending this month.

you exhaled sharply, tossing your phone aside. see? you weren’t waiting for a text. because you weren’t expecting one. because you didn’t care.

still, you had to physically stop yourself from checking your messages every hour, and by the time the afternoon rolled around, you were in a terrible mood.

saturday night -

“so let me get this straight,” your friend, karina said, stirring her drink lazily. “he didn’t show up. didn’t text. and…now you’re mad about it.”

you scowled, leaning back in your chair. “i’m not mad.”

she raised an eyebrow. “you sure? cause you seem pretty mad.”

you crossed your arms. “i just don’t like when people waste my time. it’s inconsiderate.”

“right.” karina smirked, tilting her head. “but it’s weird, isn’t it? because you weren’t even this mad when you thought he wasn’t taking tutoring seriously. but now? now he misses one session, and suddenly, it’s a big deal?”

you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “that’s not the point.”

“mhm.” she sipped her drink, clearly unconvinced.

you refused to give her the satisfaction of a reaction, but as you stared down at your untouched food, a thought crept into your mind.

was she right?

sunday afternoon -

you spotted him before he saw you.

standing by the counter at the campus café, looking as unbothered as ever. hoodie slightly loose around his shoulders, rings glinting under the dim lighting as he scrolled through his phone.

he wasn’t avoiding you, then. because avoiding would at least mean he knew he did something wrong.

the irritation that had been simmering all weekend bubbled over. before you could think twice, you were already walking toward him.

“oh, hey, sunshine.” he glanced up as you stopped beside him, smiling like nothing had happened. “you look cute when you’re brooding.”

you didn’t waste time. “you didn’t show up.”

he shrugged, slipping his phone into his pocket. “yeah. something came up.”

“something came up?” your voice was sharper than intended, but you didn’t care. “you could’ve at least said something.”

he leaned against the counter, studying you with an amused tilt of his head. “why? you miss me?”

your fingers curled into fists at your sides. because he was doing this on purpose. pushing, testing, waiting to see how much you’d react. and you hated that it was working.

“you’re unbelievable.” the words came out in a breath, laced with frustration.

and then you turned on your heel and walked away before you could say anything else you’d regret.

but the worst part? the absolute worst part?

he was still in your head, and you didn’t know how to make it stop.

—

session thirteen - monday the 23rd

for the next two weeks, you and haechan had to change locations as club was having their meetings in the library. you moved to a classroom near the library.

monday’s session wasn’t a disaster. in fact, it was almost… normal.

he showed up—five minutes late, but that was practically on time for him. he didn’t ignore the notes you laid out, didn’t spend the whole time spinning his rings or making dumb comments. he even answered a few questions correctly, which honestly shocked you.

“so you do pay attention sometimes,” you muttered when he got one right.

“wow, sunshine.” he grinned, resting his chin on his hand. “say that again. maybe i’ll start believing you actually like having me around.”

you scoffed, underlining something in your notebook just to avoid looking at him. “don’t push it.”

he chuckled but didn’t push. and for the first time since this whole tutoring arrangement started, things actually felt… okay. he was still distracting, still teasing you every chance he got, still doing that infuriating thing where he leaned back in his chair like he had all the time in the world. but at least he was trying.

and that was enough.

for now.

later that week, things changed.

session fifteen- friday the 25th

you were still in one of the school’s empty classrooms, finishing up some notes for yourself. it was already late when you heard the classroom door creak open.

too late for a tutoring session. too late for him to be here at all.

you looked up, expecting a janitor, maybe a teacher. instead, you saw him.

“oh my god.” your breath caught when you finally glanced up. “what happened to you?”

he looked…rough. a split lip, a bruise already blooming on his cheekbone, dried blood crusted near his eyebrow. his knuckles were bruising and stained with a little blood, like he’d been swinging at something—or someone.

“nothin’.” his voice was quieter than usual, the usual cockiness dulled by exhaustion. “just a bad night.”

“bad night? you look like you got your ass kicked.” you frowned, already standing. “who—why—”

“doesn’t matter.” he waved a hand, like he wanted to brush it off, but even that small movement made him wince.

you sighed, shaking your head as you grabbed your bag. “stay here.”

he didn’t argue as you left, and when you came back a few minutes later, first aid kit in hand, he still hadn’t moved. just sat there, fingers tapping restlessly against his thigh, like he was waiting for the fight to start back up again.

but when you stood in front of him, tilting his face up slightly so you could dab at the cut on his lip, he stilled.

“you don’t have to do this,” he murmured.

“you don’t have to get into fights.”

he huffed a quiet laugh, but there was no humor in it.

when you knelt beside him and took his hand in yours, he barely reacted, letting you clean the dried blood from his knuckles. his skin was warm under your touch, but you ignored that. just like you ignored the way his eyes were fixed on you, dark and unreadable.

for a while, there was only silence. the soft press of gauze against his skin, the quiet scrape of your nails as you brushed away the dried blood. and through it all, he just watched you.

like he didn’t understand why you cared.

“you’re not supposed to fix me, sunshine,” he said eventually, voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. “just tutor me.”

you didn’t look at his eyes. “maybe i just don’t want to watch you fall apart.”

his breath hitched slightly. and maybe you imagined it, but for the first time, the fight in his eyes flickered. just for a second.

he didn’t say anything else. but something shifted in that moment.

because later, when he went home, he touched the bandage you had carefully pressed onto his skin, fingers lingering there longer than necessary.

and even though he would never admit it. maybe not even to himself, that was the moment he started falling for you.

—

after that night, things feel different. you tell yourself they’re not, that nothing’s changed, that you’re just imagining the way your chest tightens when you catch him looking at you in the middle of a study session. but it’s there, lingering in the spaces between words, in the silence that lasts too long, in the way his teasing remarks don’t land the same way anymore.

the next session, he actually tries.

not in an obvious way—he’s still late, still sighs dramatically when you hand him a practice problem, still taps his pen against the table like he’s counting down the minutes until he can leave. but when you ask him a question, he answers. when he gets something wrong, he listens when you explain instead of brushing it off.

session sixteen - monday the 28th

“so, what, you’re suddenly serious about passing?” you ask, watching as he leans forward, elbows braced against the table.

he tilts his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. “maybe i just like seeing you all impressed when i get something right.”

you roll your eyes. “trust me, you’d have to try way harder for that to happen.”

but you don’t mean it. because when he mutters the right answer under his breath, brow furrowed like he’s actually thinking, something twists in your stomach. you shove the feeling down before it can take root.

—

then, he starts showing up.

not just to your tutoring sessions—those are still scheduled, still predictable, still something you can control—but to other places. places he shouldn’t be.

like when you’re sitting outside between classes, notebook open in your lap, the afternoon sun casting long shadows over the pavement.

“wow,” his voice cuts through the quiet, lazy and amused. “you really do study all the time, huh?”

you glance up, frowning as he drops into the seat across from you. “what are you doing here?”

he shrugs, peeling the label off his drink. “nowhere else to be.”

he stays. doesn’t do much—just picks at his rings, tosses casual comments your way, complains about the weather. at first, it’s just once. then it happens again. and again.

“you know you don’t have to sit here, right?” you say one day, not looking up from your laptop.

“i know.”

he doesn’t leave. and you don’t tell him to. maybe that’s your first mistake.

—

the evening air is crisp, biting at your skin as you step out of the library. you tug your jacket tighter around yourself, putting your earbuds in as you start down the quiet path leading off campus. most of the streetlights flicker on as it got darker.

you don’t hear him at first.

not until he falls into step beside you, hands stuffed into his pockets, shoulders slightly hunched.

“hey, sunshine.”

you nearly trip, ripping an earbud out as you whip your head to the side. “what the—why are you here?”

he doesn’t look at you, just keeps walking like this is the most natural thing in the world. “walking.” he motions in front of him.

“walking where?” you press, your suspicion growing.

he exhales, tilting his head toward the sky as if debating whether to answer. finally, he shrugs. “just making sure you get home okay.”

you slow your steps. something about the way he says it, like it’s just a fact, like it’s obvious, throws you off balance.

“i don’t need a bodyguard,” you mutter.

“yeah, i know.”

“so why—”

“just shut up and keep walking.”

the words should annoy you. they do annoy you. but something in his casual but firm tone, like he’s already decided he’s doing this whether you like it or not, leaves no room for argument. so you walk, stealing glances at him every so often, watching the way he shifts his weight, the way his fingers flex like he’s holding back something he’ll never say out loud.

“this isn’t a habit now, is it?” you ask after a few minutes.

“depends.”

“on what?”

“on whether or not i feel like doing it again.”

you roll your eyes but don’t push.

when you finally reach your place, you stop at the fence, hesitating. you should say goodnight. you should say thanks, maybe. but before you can decide, he’s already a few steps away, hands still buried in his pockets, gaze fixed ahead.

“see you later, sunshine.”

he doesn’t look back. doesn’t wait for a response.

but for some reason, you watch him walk away anyway.

—

you should be asleep.

but you’re not.

instead, you’re lying on your bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the walk home in your head like a movie you can’t turn off. like the flickering streetlights, the cold air, the steady sound of footsteps beside you—his footsteps—are all burned into your mind.

you shift onto your side, pulling your blanket up to your chin. it’s stupid. he didn’t do anything, didn’t say anything that should be lingering like this. all he did was show up. all he did was walk.

but still.

“just making sure you get home okay.”

he’d said it like it was nothing. like it wasn’t a thing.

but it was. wasn’t it?

you sigh, rolling onto your back again. your phone sits on your nightstand, screen dark, no notifications. not that you expected any. he’s not the kind of guy to text. but still, some stupid part of you wonders if he’s thinking about it, too.

not about you. just—about anything.

maybe he’s already asleep, completely unbothered, already moved on. maybe it meant nothing to him.

but then again—

“depends.”

“on what?”

“on whether or not i feel like doing it again.”

you close your eyes, exhaling slowly.

you don’t know what’s worse. the fact that he might actually do it again.

or the fact that you kind of want him to.

—

session nineteen - monday april 4th

you check the time again.

ten minutes late.

with an annoyed sigh, you tap your pen against the open notebook in front of you, debating whether to give up and leave. it’s not like he hasn’t done this before. showing up whenever he feels like it, acting like he’s doing you a favor by even bothering. but this time, it’s grating more than usual. maybe because things have been different lately—less antagonistic, more… whatever this weird tension is that neither of you have acknowledged.

and then, just as you’re about to slap your notebook shut, a chair scrapes against the floor.

“took you long enough,” you mutter without looking up.

“miss me?”

the smirk is there—you can hear it in his voice even before you meet his gaze. he leans back in his chair, stretching out like he has all the time in the world. no apology, no excuse. just him, always testing your patience.

you roll your eyes and push his notebook toward him. “just open your book.”

the session starts off okay, at first. he’s actually trying—not a lot, but enough. he answers a few questions, gets some right, listens when you explain the ones he gets wrong. but there’s something off about him today.

he’s restless. more than usual.

his fingers tap against the table, his rings clicking against each other in a way that makes your nerves buzz. he sighs every time you correct him, leans back so far in his chair that you’re convinced he’s seconds away from tipping over. but most of all, he’s not looking at you.

not in the usual way, at least. he usually stares—lazy, smug, like he’s waiting for you to snap. but today, it’s like he’s avoiding your gaze altogether. like he’s somewhere else.

“what is wrong with you today?” the words slip out before you can stop them.

haechan raises an eyebrow, finally meeting your eyes. “me? nothing. maybe you’re just extra grumpy today.”

you glare. “maybe i wouldn’t be if you were actually focused.”

he clicks his tongue, shutting his notebook with a dull thud. “yeah? and what if i don’t feel like it?”

your patience snaps. “then why are you even here, haechan?”

silence.

his expression shifts—just barely, but enough for you to see it. the way his jaw tightens, the flicker of something unreadable in his eyes before he looks away.

and then he speaks so quiet, almost to himself.

“good question.”

your breath catches. because suddenly, it doesn’t feel like you’re talking about tutoring anymore.

neither of you speak after that.

the rest of the session is stiff, words clipped and movements sharp. when it ends, he doesn’t throw a smug remark over his shoulder, doesn’t tease you like he usually does. he just stands, slings his bag over his shoulder, and walks out without looking back.

you stay sitting there long after he’s gone, staring at the empty chair next to you.

heart pounding for reasons you don’t want to think about.

—

session twenty - wednesday the 6th

wednesday’s session is quieter than usual. it’s like there’s a wall between the two of you—still the same awkwardness, but with more… space.

haechan is more focused than before, but there’s a distance in the way he engages with the material. no smart comments, no teasing, just a steady silence as he works through the problems. every time your fingers brush over his paper to point out a mistake, there’s a brief, electric pause. neither of you comment on it, but it lingers, like a promise neither of you are ready to make.

but by the end of it, he’s gone without a word. not a smile, not a look. just the door shutting quietly behind him.

—

session twenty one - friday the 8th

friday’s session is different.

when he walks in, there’s a heaviness about him, something off—his face is bruised again, his lip split like last time, hair slightly tousled, and there’s a subtle tremble in his step like he’s not sure whether to be here or not. his eyes avoid yours as he slides into the chair across from yours, too close to be casual but too distant to be comfortable.

the silence between you is charged from the start, but it’s not the playful tension you’re used to. it’s thick, raw, almost uncomfortable.

you can’t help but stare at the bruise blooming across his jaw, the scrape on his chin, and the other cuts scattered across his arms. the anger and adrenaline radiate off him in waves, but there’s something deeper underneath all of it—a tiredness.

you try not to let your voice crack, but the concern breaks through anyway. “what happened?”

haechan doesn’t meet your gaze. his eyes are dark, like he’s trying to bury something under all that nonchalance. “it’s nothing.”

you don’t believe him. obviously. not looking like that. “haechan, don’t lie.”

finally, he looks at you, and there’s something in his expression that makes you freeze—raw vulnerability laced with a bitterness you can’t quite place. “someone said something about you,” he says quietly. “something i didn’t like.”

you feel the weight of his words like a punch to the gut. “what do you mean?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper, but there’s no hiding the unease creeping into your tone.

he’s quiet for a long moment, his fingers tapping restlessly against the table as he thinks about how to phrase it. then, he just blurts it out: “i fought over you.”

it takes you a second to process. “what?”

he looks at you, this time, eyes searching yours like he’s looking for something. “they were talking about you. bad stuff. i couldn’t just sit there. i—” his words falter, like he’s not sure why he’s even explaining this to you.

you don’t know what to say. your heart beats harder, faster. “so you just…?”

“i lost it.” he’s not ashamed, not exactly, but there’s something about the way he says it that makes you feel like he’s letting go of more than just the fight. “i couldn’t stand it. i had to do something.”

and that’s when it hits you—the depth of everything he’s been hiding behind those sharp smirks and sarcastic comments.

without thinking, your fingers move—just a soft brush against his darkening knuckles, like it’s the only thing you can do to make sense of all this. you feel the heat of his skin underneath your fingertips, and the contact burns, even though it’s so small.

haechan’s breath catches. there’s a moment of complete silence, and then he slowly, so slowly, moves his fingers that were under yours.

you hold your breath, fingers trembling just a little. and then, as if testing the waters, he slides his fingers up to rest his hand against yours. you found your hand opening up, as your palms touched slightly. his finger tips grazing your with a ghost-like touch. for a second, neither of you moves. there’s a fragile, delicate tension that seems to freeze the room in place.

and then, without saying a word, he lets his fingers gently curl around yours.

it’s slow, tentative, like he’s afraid you’ll pull away. but when you don’t, when you let him, he doesn’t hesitate. his grip tightens just enough, not too much—just enough to say this matters.

your heart races, and your breath hitches, but you don’t pull away. you don’t want to.

you let your fingers slip into the spaces between his, moving carefully, slowly.

there’s no hurry. just the quiet sound of your breaths mingling with the subtle click of his rings as his fingers settle between yours.

his eyes drop to your hands, studying the way you fit together, the way your fingers slide against his, perfectly and effortlessly. it’s intimate in a way that makes everything around you disappear. there’s only the soft warmth of his hand in yours, the quiet thrum of something unspoken growing louder between you.

he leans forward slightly, his voice quiet, almost like a confession. “i fought because of you,” he says, the weight of his words settling between you two like a secret you didn’t expect.

you want to say something, want to ask why, but the words don’t come. your chest feels tight. why would he do that for you?

his thumb strokes the back of your hand, the motion slow and careful, and you feel the heat of his touch seep through you. “i couldn’t just let them say shit about you,” he murmurs, his voice raw. “no one talks about you like that and gets away with it.”

you finally meet his gaze, your chest tight with something you can’t name. he holds your hand gently, but there’s a possessiveness in his touch, something protective that you can’t quite ignore.

the air between you is thick, filled with the weight of everything unsaid. he doesn’t let go of your hand, doesn’t move away, and neither do you.

you’re not sure how long you sit there, fingers entwined, the world outside of this moment fading away. but somehow, it feels like everything has changed between you two in that quiet, intimate touch. Something that didn’t need to be spoken but felt.

neither of you moves, not yet. not until it’s time.

—

saturday -

saturday morning arrives with the lingering weight of haechan’s words from the previous session. “maybe we could grab a coffee or something. no tutoring… just…”

his voice still echoes in your mind as you get ready. you don’t know why it’s making you nervous. you’ve spent hours with him tutoring, in tight spaces, talking about everything under the sun, but this feels different. it’s not about grades or chemistry anymore. it’s about you and him—just two people.

when your parents asked where you were off to, you brushed them off with a simple. “studying at the café,”.

at 2 p.m., you arrive at the cafe a little early. your heart beats louder in your chest as you stand outside, looking at the door, unsure whether you should go in first or wait. but before you can make up your mind, haechan appears. he’s wearing a hoodie and jeans. his messy hair adds to the vibe—relaxed, but there’s an intensity in the way he walks towards you.

“hey,” he greets with that familiar teasing smile, but it’s less playful today, more reserved. he watches you for a beat, like he’s trying to gauge how you’re feeling.

“hey,” you respond, your voice steady but your insides twist with something unfamiliar.

the conversation starts easy, like a continuation of your tutoring sessions, but it quickly morphs into something more personal. you laugh at his jokes, and he cracks a few of his usual sarcastic comments. but this time, they don’t feel so cutting—they feel like an invitation, an effort to connect.

you tell him about your favorite subjects, and he talks about his struggle with science (which he completely tries to play off like he doesn’t care about). somehow, you both end up talking about your childhoods, your families, and some awkward high school moments. the more you talk, the more the layers fall away, and you realize this is more real than you expected. he really wasn’t some monster that everyone seemed to paint him as.

as you finish your drinks, there’s an uneasy silence between you two. haechan runs a hand through his hair, and you shift in your seat, unsure of what to do next. the energy between you both is charged now—unspoken words hang thick in the air, and it’s almost unbearable.

“well, sunshine,” he says, his voice softer than usual, “i guess I’ll see you on monday?”

you nod, too quickly, almost relieved to escape the pressure of the moment. “yeah, monday.”

you both stand, and as you turn to walk away, you feel his eyes on you. you can’t tell if it’s admiration or something else, but the way he watches you feels different now.

sunday -

sunday passes quietly, but the space between you and haechan feels wider, even though you just saw him the day before. you try not to think about the little moments—the way he looked at you, how close you both were, how much you wanted him to say more. but that’s the problem, isn’t it? you both left so much unsaid, and you can’t help but wonder what’s going through his mind.

he doesn’t text you at all. the silence is deafening. you tell yourself it’s probably a good thing; after all, you don’t need to overanalyze everything, right? but then again, why does it feel so heavy?

you end up spending the day at home, alone with your thoughts. the weekend was supposed to be simple, a break from the usual, but now you can’t shake the feeling that it’s more complicated than that. haechan has always been complicated, but now you feel like you’re standing on the edge of something, not sure whether to jump or step back.

session twenty two - monday the 11th

by the time monday rolls around, you’re feeling restless. there’s a shift in your mood. a nervous energy that you can’t shake off, and when you step into school, it feels like you’re waiting for something to happen. you can’t decide if it’s anticipation or dread, but either way, you’re drawn back to the tutoring session.

when haechan finally walks into the classroom, you can’t tell if he’s acting like everything is normal or if he’s pretending. he gives you a short wave, but it’s not his usual playful smile. it’s different now. there’s something more cautious in his movements.

you both settle into your usual rhythm—he’s late, of course, but he’s quieter today. you’re not sure if that’s because of the weekend or if it’s something else entirely.

the session goes well, mostly. it’s like before, in the sense that you both get through the work, but there’s an added tension. he looks at you a little longer than he usually does, his eyes scanning your face as if he’s trying to understand something. the usual teasing is absent today, replaced by a different energy—more subtle, more cautious.

by the end of the session, you can’t help but feel like you’re caught in this strange, unspoken limbo between what you both were and what you might be. you still don’t know where it’s going, but you’re both standing at the edge, unsure whether to jump or wait to see what the next step will be.

—

session twenty three - wednesday the 13th

it’s the final session before the break, and everything feels different. the air feels thicker, charged with something neither of you are saying but both know is there. you both sit at the desk, the tension palpable, but neither of you are focused on the notes in front of you. it’s like the classroom walls are closing in, and neither of you can breathe easily.

you keep glancing over at him, trying to stick to the lesson, but he’s just… there, too close, too present. the words he’s saying are just noise in the background as his eyes flicker over you every time you speak, his gaze heavy, simmering. you know it’s not just the subject anymore. something has shifted.

“you’re not listening,” you say, your voice sharper than you intend.

he looks at you, not surprised, but not unaffected either. “neither are you,” he replies, and there’s something in his voice that’s too calm. too knowing.

you press your lips together, trying to keep your composure. “well, you’re not even trying.”

he smirks, leaning back in his chair slightly. “again, neither are you.”

there’s a challenge in his voice, and it sets something off inside you. something snaps. you stand up more abrupt than you anticipate, trying to collect your thoughts but only feeling more overwhelmed by the space between you two. you feel like you’re suffocating under the weight of the tension, like there’s something about to break, and you don’t know if you want to stop it or let it happen.

you cross your arms, pacing around the small desk, trying to cool the heat you feel flooding your chest.

“why are you so difficult?” you murmur, more to yourself than him.

“because you make it easy,” he says, voice low, leaning forward, his eyes locked on you in a way that makes your knees weak.

he stands up slowly, the movement purposeful, and your heart skips a beat. the space between you is closing, and before you can make sense of what’s happening, he’s there, standing right in front of you.

his hand brushes against yours, and you feel it like a spark, his fingers just grazing yours before he holds your wrist lightly, tugging you closer to him. you can’t move, rooted in place by something deeper than just attraction.

and then he kisses you.

it’s a kiss that’s full of everything you’ve been holding back. the anger, the frustration, the need for something more that you don’t know how to name. it’s messy, urgent, like both of you are desperate to see how far you can go without letting go. your hands find their way to his chest, pushing against him as you kiss him back, just as hungry, just as eager.

you feel his grip on your wrist tighten, pulling you closer as his other hand slides to your waist. the kiss deepens, and the world around you disappears. it’s just you and him, the heat of his lips against yours, the press of his body against yours.

you can’t help but give in, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, your breath coming faster as the intensity builds.

and then, just as suddenly, it breaks.

you pull back, hands trembling, and you stare at him, your heart pounding against your ribs.

you feel guilty.

you glance away, trying to catch your breath, but all you can hear are the voices from the past—the warnings your parents gave you, the things they said about boys like him.

“boys like him are trouble.”

the words echo in your mind like a warning. trouble.

you can’t ignore it. your heart sinks, and a cold wave of uncertainty washes over you. this is trouble.

you step back, trying to create some distance, trying to make sense of it all. “this isn’t… supposed to happen.”

he stays silent for a beat, his expression unreadable. then, quietly, he says, “i don’t want to stop.”

you shake your head, backing away, but you can’t seem to find the words. everything’s spinning in your head. he’s trouble, but you want him.

“haechan,” you whisper, feeling a rush of heat rise to your cheeks, “i—this was a mistake.”

he doesn’t say anything, just watches you as you grab your things, your heart heavy in your chest.

you don’t know how to fix this, don’t know how to untangle the mess you’ve just made of your feelings. you only know that walking away is the only thing you can do right now, even if every step you take feels like it’s pulling you away from him and yet dragging you closer at the same time.

you leave without another word, but as you walk down the hall, your mind is still stuck on him.

this isn’t what i signed up for… but then again, maybe it was.

—

the following night is unusually still, and you lie awake, mind tangled in the events of the past week. your thoughts keep drifting back to him—the kiss, the way he pulled away, and the uncertainty that followed. you toss and turn, trying to shake off the feeling, but it’s like something’s pulling you in. just as you start to think you’re finally starting to calm down, a soft knock at your window breaks through the silence.

your heart jumps in your chest, and for a second, you freeze. there’s no mistaking who it is. haechan.

you rush to the window, heart racing, but you pause for a brief moment to glance at your door—your parents are just down the hall. still, curiosity outweighs caution, and you push the blinds up quietly, barely believing your eyes.

there he is, his silhouette framed against the dim streetlights outside, standing on the roof near your window with that familiar, confident smirk that sends a strange rush through you.

“how’d you get up here?” you whisper after opening the window, your voice shaky, heart still pounding in your ears.

he shrugs as though it’s the most normal thing in the world, but you can’t ignore the way his arm strains as he grips the window sill, his veins flexing beneath the fabric of his shirt. your eyes flicker down to his arms, and for a moment, you forget to breathe, your gaze catching on the way the muscles ripple as he pulls himself up with a small thud.

you wince, then immediately shush him, raising a finger to your lips in an exaggerated, playful gesture. “my parents are gonna hear you!”

he flashes that trademark grin, but it’s softer this time—almost sheepish, like he wasn’t expecting this much resistance. “sorry,” he whispers, giving you a quick, apologetic wink before pulling himself through the window with a bit more flair than necessary. you can feel the heat radiating off him as he steps inside, and for a brief second, you both just stand there in the quiet of the room.

there’s an awkward pause as he dusts himself off, glancing around your room as if trying to find a reason for being here, but then his eyes land on you. his expression softens just a little, that familiar cockiness fading away for a second.

“didn’t mean to sneak up on you, but… figured i’d take a risk. can’t sleep, you know?”

you laugh softly, a little nervously, though you can’t quite explain why. there’s something about him being here, standing in your room in the dead of night, that’s thrilling in a way you’re not ready to admit. “did you…climb the tree?” you ask, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“yeah,” he grins, his tone light, almost teasing. “it’s not that hard. plus, i thought i’d get your attention somehow.” he shrugs as if this is a totally reasonable thing to do. but when his eyes meet yours, there’s something behind them. something vulnerable, something unspoken.

“you’re crazy,” you mutter, but there’s no malice behind it. instead, your voice is soft, fond. you step back instinctively as he moves toward you, not sure if you want to step away or let him close the gap. you should be more concerned that he was here. if your parents found out, you have no idea what kind of reaction they’d have.

he looks at you for a moment, his gaze flickering over your face like he’s studying every detail. you can feel the tension building between the two of you, and even though you know you should step back again, you stay rooted to the spot. there’s a pull between you that neither of you can ignore.

“i just… couldn’t stop thinking about everything. about you,” he admits, the words coming out quieter than usual. he doesn’t sound like the usual confident haechan; there’s a vulnerability in his voice now, something raw that you’ve never heard before.

you blink, caught off guard. the air feels thick with unspoken words, and for a second, you’re at a loss for how to respond. your heart hammers in your chest, and before you can stop yourself, you move a little closer to him.

his eyes widen slightly when you step forward, but he doesn’t move away. instead, he reaches for your hand slowly, almost hesitantly. his fingers brush over yours, the lightest touch that sends a jolt through you. it’s so quiet, so soft, but it feels like the whole world has paused. you glance down at his hand—his fingers are rough, the veins on his arms standing out against his skin.

you look back up at him, meeting his eyes, and he squeezes your hand gently, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand in a slow, almost intimate motion. there’s a quiet understanding between the two of you, a silent acknowledgment of everything that’s been building between you.

“you’re here,” you say, voice barely above a whisper, but it feels like it carries the weight of everything you haven’t been able to say.

he gives a small, lopsided grin, his thumb still moving over your hand. “yeah. i guess i am.”

and then, without another word, he leans in, and this time, when your lips meet, it’s not chaotic. it’s slow, deliberate, like the two of you are finally giving in to something you’ve been avoiding. his hand slides up to your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin as if he’s memorizing the feel of you.

the kiss is soft at first, tentative, but it deepens as the moments stretch on, his other hand moving to gently to him by your back, pulling you closer. everything else fades away. the hesitation, the uncertainty and you lose yourself in it.

when you finally pull back, both of you are breathing a little heavier, the space between you still charged with the emotions neither of you knew how to express. you glance at the door again, your mind briefly flashing to the consequences of this. but for a moment, you don’t care.

“this is… insane,” you whisper, your voice trembling just slightly.

he leans his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “i know. but i don’t think i can stay away.”

for a moment, you both just stand there, breathless, sharing the same quiet understanding. you’ve crossed a line you never thought you would, and for the first time, you’re not sure what comes next. but you know this: you can’t go back. not now.

—

after that night, everything changes. things between you and haechan aren’t just charged—they’re different. there’s no more pretending that what happened didn’t mean something.

friday the 15th

the next day at school, he’s there—leaning against his locker like usual, surrounded by his close group of friends, but his eyes are on you the second you walk in. it’s not just a glance this time. it’s intentional, like he’s waiting to see if you’ll look at him, if you’ll acknowledge what happened between you the night before.

your heart races, but you force yourself to act normal. your parents had been none the wiser about his late-night visit, but that didn’t mean you weren’t still thinking about it. thinking about him. you take a deep breath and head toward your first class, but just as you pass him, his fingers catch your wrist. it’s subtle, barely a touch, but enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“you’re not gonna ignore me now, are you?” his voice is low, teasing, but there’s something real underneath it.

“not here,” you murmur, pulling your hand away, your face heating up as you disappear into the crowd.

you glance around—people are watching. of course they are. it was unusual for a student like and a student like him to interact. let alone lee haechan and you.

but you can feel his gaze on you for the rest of the day.

after school -

he catches up to you before you can leave, cutting you off near the entrance. “so, sunshine, are we gonna talk about last night? or are you just gonna pretend i didn’t climb a damn tree for you?”

you roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “you could’ve fallen.”

“but i didn’t,” he grins, stepping closer, dropping his voice so only you can hear. “what, you worried about me?”

you are, but you won’t admit that. you sigh. “i don’t know what you expect me to say.”

his smirk fades just slightly, a flicker of something more serious in his eyes. “say it wasn’t nothing.”

you hesitate, because you can’t say that. you won’t lie. but you also don’t know what this is.

before you can respond, a voice calls your name from behind. one of your classmates. someone who shouldn’t be seeing you with him like this.

“i have to go,” you say quickly, stepping away.

he doesn’t stop you, but as you walk away, you hear him call out, just loud enough for you to hear—

“i’ll see you later, sunshine.”

and you know you will.

saturday night -

you get a text from him.

haechan: come outside

your heart leaps into your throat. you glance at your bedroom door, listening carefully. your parents are still awake. sneaking out has never been something you’ve even considered before, but now…

your fingers hover over your phone.

you: are you insane?

haechan: probably. but i wanna see you.

you hesitate. but only for a second.

and then, for the first time, you take the risk.

—

the door clicks softly behind you as you step onto the porch, the night air brushing cool against your skin. you shiver slightly, but you ignore it, your pulse already picking up when you spot haechan waiting just beyond the porch light’s glow, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie.

he steps forward as you approach, but then—he stops.

his eyes flicker down, lingering.

you suddenly realize what you’re wearing—silk shorts, the kind with delicate lace at the hem, barely brushing mid-thigh. paired with a thin, loose sweater, it’s nothing that scandalous, but under his gaze, you feel the heat creeping up your neck.

his tongue swipes over his bottom lip before he exhales, tilting his head. “damn, sunshine. if i knew sneaking into your thoughts at night got me this kind of welcome, i would’ve done it sooner.”

you cross your arms, giving him an unimpressed look despite the warmth spreading in your chest. “i wasn’t exactly expecting company.”

he hums, taking another step closer. “yeah? so you just wear this to bed every night?” his voice dips lower, teasing, but there’s something else there.

you roll your eyes, but you can’t ignore the way your stomach tightens. “are you done staring?”

his smirk deepens. “not even close.”

“why are you even here?” you sigh, trying to steer the conversation before you combust under his gaze.

his expression shifts slightly, something more serious flickering beneath the teasing. “couldn’t sleep.” he shrugs, eyes still on you but softer now. “kept thinking about you.”

your breath hitches. you weren’t expecting that.

you hesitate, shifting on your feet. “and what exactly were you thinking about?”

he doesn’t hesitate. “that kiss. both of them.”

you inhale sharply, your heart picking up speed.

he watches you carefully, stepping just close enough that you have to tilt your chin up to meet his gaze. “tell me i’m the only one who’s been losing sleep over it,” he murmurs. “tell me you don’t think about it too.”

you should brush it off. should laugh, roll your eyes, push him away like you always do.

but you don’t.

“…maybe a little.”

his lips quirk, but it’s not his usual cocky smirk—it’s softer. more real.

“thought so.”

before you can even react, his fingers find yours, brushing over your knuckles before lacing them together. it’s slow, deliberate—like he’s testing the waters, waiting for you to pull away.

you don’t.

he exhales a quiet laugh. “you’re in trouble, sunshine.”

you swallow. “why?”

his thumb traces over the back of your hand, and when he looks at you, there’s something almost fond in his eyes.

“’cause now that i’ve got you like this,” he murmurs, “i don’t think i can let go.”

—

you should go back inside. your parents are asleep just down the hall, and this is the kind of thing they warned you about. sneaking out into the night with a boy like him, hand in hand, heart racing in ways it shouldn’t.

but you don’t let go.

“come on,” he says, his grip tightening just slightly, like he’s afraid you might change your mind. “let’s go somewhere.”

“what? where?” you ask, but you’re already following him down the steps, his hand warm against yours.

he smirks, eyes glinting in the dim light. “trust me.”

and for some reason, you do.

—

the night air is crisp, cool against your skin as the two of you walk through the quiet streets. neither of you say much at first, just the soft scuff of your footsteps on the pavement, the occasional flickering of a streetlight overhead. it’s reckless, it’s stupid, but for some reason, it feels right.

he leads you toward a small park a few blocks away, one you haven’t been to in years. it looks different at night—emptier, quieter, like a hidden world that only the two of you know about.

“seriously?” you say, raising an eyebrow. “you dragged me out of bed for a playground?”

haechan grins, tugging you toward the swings. “come on, sunshine. live a little.”

you huff, but you sit anyway, the chains creaking slightly as you lean back. he takes the swing next to yours, feet planted on the ground, arms draped lazily over the chains.

for a moment, neither of you speak. the city hums softly in the distance, a car passing now and then, but here, in this little forgotten space, it feels like you’re in your own world.

then he breaks the silence.

“so,” he says, voice quieter now. “are you gonna tell me why you kissed me back?”

your fingers tighten around the swing’s chains.

you should lie. should brush it off, make a joke, something.

but instead, you glance at him, finding him already watching you, his usual smirk nowhere in sight.

“…i don’t know,” you admit.

he exhales a soft laugh, shaking his head. “wrong answer, sunshine.”

you frown. “oh? and what’s the right one?”

he leans in slightly, close enough that you can feel the warmth of him even in the cool night air. his voice drops, teasing but serious all at once.

“that you can’t get me out of your head, either.”

your breath catches.

you could argue. you could deny it. but instead, you just look at him, your heart pounding, and realize—maybe you don’t want to.

—

the morning after sneaking out with haechan, everything feels different.

your room is the same, the sun filtering through your curtains, casting warm streaks of light across your sheets. your parents are in the kitchen, the smell of coffee and toast drifting down the hall like any other saturday morning. nothing has changed.

except it has.

because your mind won’t stop replaying the night before. his voice, his hands, the way he looked at you under the dim glow of the streetlights, with that same dark eyeliner you’ve grown to like. the way he leaned in just close enough that you thought he might kiss you again but never did. the way your heart had pounded the entire walk back home, fingers still tingling from where he had held them, warm and steady.

and the worst part?

you didn’t want it to end.

you go through the day pretending everything is normal.

you do your chores, respond to messages, attempt to start your homework—but it all feels distant, like your mind is somewhere else entirely. every time your phone lights up, you half expect it to be him. but it never is.

and then, just when you think you might be going crazy, your mom’s voice cuts through the quiet.

“you’ve been distracted all morning.”

you blink, looking up from your untouched notebook at the kitchen table. your parents are sitting across from you, your dad flipping through the newspaper, your mom watching you with knowing eyes.

“i’m fine,” you say quickly, too quickly.

she hums, not convinced. “it’s not about that boy, is it?”

your heart stops. “what?”

your dad turns a page in the newspaper, not looking up. “the one you’ve been tutoring,” he says simply. “you know, the one we told you to be careful around.”

your pulse stutters. “it’s—no, of course not.”

your mom raises an eyebrow. “really? because ever since those sessions started, you’ve been acting a little… different.”

“and now you’re all spaced out,” your dad adds, still not looking up. “not getting a crush on him, are you?”

you scoff, forcing out a laugh that sounds almost believable. “as if.”

your mom exhales, satisfied for now. “good. boys like that, they’re nothing but trouble.”

your chest tightens. they don’t know anything. “so you’ve told me.” you sigh.

but instead of arguing, you just nod, mumbling something about needing to study before quickly escaping back to your room.

and the moment the door clicks shut behind you, your phone finally buzzes.

haechan: you up, sunshine?

you hesitate for half a second, holding back the small tug at your lips before responding.

you: yeah, why?

his reply comes instantly.

haechan: meet me? same spot.

your heart skips. you don’t even hesitate.

you: be there in 10.

—

the air feels heavier, like the wind is carrying something unspoken between you. you spot him before he sees you—leaning against the swing set, hoodie pulled over his head, one hand twisting a silver ring around his finger. he looks lost in thought, gaze fixed on the ground until he hears your footsteps.

his head lifts, and when he sees you, his lips twitch into a smirk—lazy, like he knew you’d come.

“thought maybe you wouldn’t show,” he says, rocking back on his heels.

you cross your arms, standing a few steps away. “why?”

he lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “figured maybe you started listening to your parents.”

you raise a brow. “you’re eavesdropping now?”

nah,” he says easily, stepping closer. “just know how people see me.”

you don’t respond. instead, you take a step closer, letting the silence settle between you.

“so,” you say after a beat, “why’d you call me out here?”

he exhales, tilting his head as he watches you. “needed to see you.”

the words come so easily, like he didn’t even have to think about them. like it was the most natural thing in the world.

your pulse stutters, but you keep your expression even. “and now that you have?”

he grins, stepping closer until there’s barely any space between you. “now?” his voice drops lower, eyes flickering over your face. “now i wanna know why you came.”

you swallow. why did you?

you should have ignored his message, should have listened to every warning sign telling you to stay away.

but standing here, heart pounding, heat rolling off him in waves—

you realize you don’t regret a damn thing.

“i wanted to see you too.” you say lowly.

—

after that night, something shifts.

it starts slow—an unspoken understanding, a magnetic pull that neither of you acknowledge but never fight.

one night turns into another. and then another.

sometimes, he climbs through your window just to talk, arms crossed against your windowsill, voice hushed as he tells you about his day. other times, he doesn’t talk at all, just pulls you close and kisses you like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers.

and maybe you should be afraid too—afraid of how easy it is to let this happen, to want more. but you’re not.

—

you find yourself around him more at school, too.

it’s not obvious, not at first—just stolen glances across the hallway, his shoulder brushing yours when he passes by, the flicker of a smirk when he catches you looking.

but then he starts waiting for you after class, hands stuffed in his pockets, always acting like he just happened to be there. like it wasn’t intentional.

and you let him.

because somehow, being near him feels natural now. even with the tutoring sessions over. he seemed to be doing pretty well in science now anyway.

—

the nights are different. the nights are yours.

sneaking out is reckless, dangerous, a risk you wouldn’t have taken before. but now? now it’s routine.

sometimes, you meet at the park, swinging lazily under the glow of the streetlights. sometimes, he drags you into the city, leading you through neon-lit streets, hands brushing in the dark.

and sometimes—most nights, actually—he’s at your window.

it always starts the same way: a faint rustling, the quiet scrape of sneakers against bark, and then, moments later, his head poking through the window frame with a grin.

“you’ve got to stop leaving this unlocked, sunshine,” he teases, even though you both know you won’t.

and every time, without fail, you roll your eyes, but you don’t stop him when he pulls himself inside, muscles flexing, veins prominent under his skin as he steadies himself.

the first few times, you told yourself this was temporary—just a phase, just him being him.

but then there’s a night where he doesn’t just talk, doesn’t just steal a few kisses before leaving.

there’s a night where he lingers.

where his hands settle on your waist, where he backs you up against your wall, where the air between you is thick with something unspoken, something dangerous.

where he kisses you deeper, hands tracing slow patterns against your skin, like he’s memorizing you.

where you let him.

because at some point, you stopped trying to fight this. stopped trying to pretend you didn’t want it.

because at some point, you stopped caring that he was the kind of boy your parents warned you about.

—

it was one of the nights he had skipped into your room, you greeted him with a smile and things went from there.

his breath is warm against your lips, hands gripping your waist as he backs you into the wall.

he’s been teasing all night—touching you just enough to leave you wanting more, murmuring things in that low, rough voice that made your pulse stutter. but now? now there’s no space left between you, and neither of you are trying to fight it.

his fingers press into your sides, slow and steady, like he’s testing how much you’ll let him take. his lips brush yours once, twice—just enough to make you chase him before he finally kisses you like he means it.

and you let yourself fall into it.

your hands slide into his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands, tugging just enough to draw a quiet groan from his throat. his body presses closer, chest rising and falling against yours, the heat between you dizzying.

“you’re gonna drive me crazy,” he murmurs against your lips, voice thick, almost strained.

you don’t even get the chance to answer before he kisses you again, harder this time, like he’s losing whatever little patience he had left.

his hands slip under your shirt, fingertips skimming your skin, sending shivers up your spine. and you should stop this, should put some distance between you before it’s too late—

but then his hands tighten on your hips, and you feel the way his heart is racing just as fast as yours, and god—

you don’t want to stop.

“tell me to leave,” he murmurs, lips trailing along your jaw, down to the hollow of your throat.

you swallow hard, tilting your head back as he presses closer, as his hands continue their slow exploration.

“tell me you don’t want this,” he says again, but there’s no teasing in his voice this time—just something raw, something vulnerable, something almost pleading.

and you should. you should.

instead, your grip tightens in his hair, and you whisper back, “i don’t want you to.”

his response is immediate—his hands slide lower, pulling you flush against him, and he groans against your lips like he’s just lost whatever last shred of control he had.

“fuck,” he exhales, forehead resting against yours. “you’re really gonna be the end of me, sunshine.”

but he doesn’t stop.

and neither do you.

—

when you finally pull your mouth from his, his lips are swollen, breath uneven as he leans into you, hands still firm on your waist like he can’t bring himself to let go just yet.

you don’t want him to.

but somewhere between the heat of his touch and the way his body presses against yours, reality creeps back in.

your parents are just down the hall.

he shouldn’t even be here.

“we should stop,” you murmur, though the words barely make it out, still breathless from the way he just kissed you.

he exhales sharply, eyes squeezing shut for a moment before he tilts his head back to look at you. his pupils are blown wide, jaw tight like he’s forcing himself to pull back.

“yeah,” he mutters, voice rough. “yeah, we should.”

but neither of you move.

his thumb brushes against your side, like he’s memorizing the feel of you.

“sunshine,” he says softly, like a warning.

you know you have to let him go.

but when he leans in one last time, mouth hovering just over yours, you don’t stop him.

“just one more?” he murmurs, but it’s a lie.

one more turns into two, then three, then a lingering kiss pressed to the corner of your lips, like he’s reluctant to leave you at all.

but eventually, he does.

he steps back first, running a hand through his hair like he’s trying to ground himself, like he’s trying to pull himself together before he does something you’ll both regret.

“guess i should go before i completely fuck this up, huh?” he says, forcing a smirk, but you see the hesitation in his eyes.

you nod, but you don’t trust yourself to say anything.

he moves toward the window, but just before climbing out, he looks back, gaze flickering over you—your flushed cheeks, your parted lips, the way your fingers are still trembling just slightly.

and then, instead of saying goodbye, he just grins.

“try not to miss me too much,” he teases, but there’s something softer beneath the words. something real.

and with that, he’s gone, disappearing into the night like he was never there at all.

except—he was.

you press your fingers against your lips, as if you can still feel him there, and then, you smile.

it’s embarrassing, the way your stomach flutters, the way your cheeks heat up, the way you actually giggle like some lovesick schoolgirl.

you should not be this giddy over a boy like him.

but you are.

and you couldn’t find it in you to care anymore.

—

it was another saturday night, around 12am, your parents long gone to bed.

his hands are warm against your skin, fingers teasing under the hem of your shirt as he deepens the kiss, pulling you closer.

you’re not even thinking anymore—just moving, just feeling. stumbling over your own feet as he walks you back, laughing quietly when you almost trip over a pile of books.

“shh,” you whisper, barely suppressing a giggle.

he grins against your lips. “that was you.”

“doesn’t matter,” you breathe, fingers curling into his shirt, feeling the way his muscles tense beneath the fabric. “just be quiet.”

he hums in amusement, hands sliding up your sides, his touch slow, deliberate, testing. “you always tell me what to do, sunshine?”

“someone has to.”

“mm,” he leans in, lips brushing your jaw, hands slipping beneath your shirt, pushing the fabric up just slightly—waiting for permission.

you exhale, whispering a word of approval.

he doesn’t hesitate. he tugs your shirt up, just enough to expose more of your skin—

knock.

the door swings open.

“what are you doing—?”

you freeze.

haechan freezes.

your mom stands in the doorway, eyes locking onto the scene in front of her—haechan’s hands still on you, his hoodie discarded on the floor, your shirt lifted just enough to make it painfully obvious what was happening.

for a second, no one moves.

no one breathes.

haechan is the first to react, stepping back so fast he almost knocks over your chair. he runs a hand through his hair, like he’s trying to play it cool, like there’s any coming back from this.

you don’t dare turn around.

your heart pounds in your chest, face burning hotter than ever before. this time not with the same heat.

your mom inhales sharply, voice eerily calm.

“downstairs. now.”

the finality in her tone sends a chill down your spine.

haechan glances at you, expression unreadable, but you can’t look at him.

because this time, you’re really in trouble.

—

▸ j.note ; finally releasing this lmao it’s been in the sm basement for quite some time now

[webbluvrsugar]

earlyseasons!spencer making you squirt.

cw: doesn’t mean sub!spencer, it’s more like eager Spencer experimenting on reader, written mostly for funsies.

Every since you and Spencer have been messing — fucking — around, you’ve noticed that he’s been a little shy, at least at first, his touch has been gentle but also… experimental, the way he looks at you when you’re under him and pushes you just a little harder almost makes you feel like like he’s studying you, testing something on you. But he’s a profiler, he’s learned that you don’t mind, so when he comes with the proposition of trying to make you squirt, you’re doubtful, specially as he pushes you down on your bed — already naked.

“Spencer, you don’t really need to do this, I —“ you try to speak but he’s quick to interrupt you, his hands running down your thighs.

“I know, I just.. I just want to try something new, just for a bit,” he hushes, eyes looking up to you for approval as he puts away his glasses and when Spencer says ‘just for a bit’ he is indeed just… lying, lying to your face.

His tongue licks a fat strip up your folds, it’s bold, something that he’d at first would hesitate to do, gently circling your clit before he attaches his lips onto it, gently sucks and his fingers go up to spread you further.

Spencer’s tongue feels good, but by now, you know that he would’ve already tried to stick a finger or two in you, but he doesn’t, it almost seems like he’s trying to reach this personal goal of his all with his mouth, and he’s doing a good job at it, because his tongue prods at your entrance and you arch your back, softly moaning, head throwing back and meeting your pillow.

“How does that feel?” He questions as if you need to answer for him to know it.

But still, you nod again, “Good,” you whisper, hand going down to grab at the sheets.

“Yeah, I can tell.” He grins, cocky, before his mouth latches onto your cunt again.

He devours you, nose bumping into your clit as his tongue precisely chooses where to run through, your breath being taken from your lungs when it caresses your insides one more time, the warm tip of the muscle moving within you.

“Spence,” you whimper, your knees struggling to keep themselves in place as he pulls back and pays attention to your swollen pearl one more time.

“Close?” He asks, tongue licking up a few more times through your folds, trying to get all up in there.

“Mh — Mhm,” you moan, a pleased sigh following suit.

“Did you know that —“ he pauses, “statistically, only thirty-five to fifty percent of women have experienced squirting mid sex—“ he presses an open mouthed kiss to your cunt. “But it depends on the method, I’ve read about it, we can try and see if this will be the one for you.”

And for someone who’s so used to talking, Spencer finally goes to quiet after a while and focus on your pussy, paying extra attention to what you like, guiding himself with your moans and gentle curses.

“Spence—“ with that, he thinks this really might be his chance of getting you to do it the first try, so his lips wrap around your clit one last time, only letting go when he hears a hushed cry of his name escape your lips— “Spencer!” A stream of fluid expels from you, and he watches in awe, slightly tilting his head as your body shivers and writhes right before him.

His hands gently caress your thighs, fingers letting go of your folds, his eyes finally meeting yours when you take a breath and before you can speak, he notes;

“Let’s do it again, maybe you’ll do it quicker if I actually use my fingers…”

[snowluvvie]

₊˚⊹♡ cheerleader!reader and her salacious tendencies should offend CLARK KENT’s honorable small-town sensibilities, and they do, mostly—the way her skirt rides up her thighs, the way her ponytail flips over her shoulder when she walks past him after practice… her tiny shorts and the way she bends over the table like there’s no one standing directly behind her. his eyes widen and he averts them respectfully when her ass peeks out—but it’s the way she smiles at him when she straightens up, pearly whites flashing knowingly, that makes him mumble an excuse and stalk off to the bathroom to try to wish away the tent in his pants. unfortunately, wishes don’t work, and he ends up fucking his own fist and struggling stay silent, face flushed with a mix of pleasure and crushing guilt afterwards

[strayingawayy]

hidden in plain sight...

...the one where the two of you are so stupidly obvious it hurts

seungmin and you have somewhat of an interesting relationship in the eyes of stays. with his skz family character cheating on aunty lina with you, your skzoos holding hands like the world depends on it and the fond gazing that forever goes on between the two of you... it's... interesting, is what one can say.

in between performances, fans catch the little things. like how his hand somehow always finds yours when you're huddled backstage, nerves buzzing before a big stage. or the way he wordlessly tucks your hair behind your ear when it falls into your face, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. neither of you say much about it — you never really need to.

tonight’s encore stage is no different. the air is electric, the confetti falling like snow, and everyone is bouncing around, singing into each other's mics and laughing until your stomachs hurt in the middle of lots of teasing. and somewhere in the middle of it, there's a moment — brief but so loud if you know where to look. and stays...well, they always do.

you’re playfully scolding him for stealing your line again, tapping his forehead with your finger.

"yah, that was my part," you say, half-laughing, half-serious.

seungmin just grins, that wide, scrunchy eyed smile he saves for only a few people, and leans forward to gently tap his forehead against yours. it’s clumsy, soft, and so very him.

"it's called teamwork. eight years since debut and you still haven't learnt that have you?," he mutters cheekily, voice low into the mic.

the crowd roars at the interaction, chan dramatically wailing into his mic, "get a room!" which earns a wave of laughter from the members. you and seungmin just laugh it off, not bothering to explain yourselves. in this band, everyone has a rumour with everyone so there truly isn't a need to.

later, when the lights dim and you're all sitting at the edge of the stage waiting for the video made by the fans of the city to start playing, it’s quieter. sentimental. the kind of atmosphere that oozes warmth and love. you’re sat beside seungmin, your knees knocking slightly, and somewhere between jisung rambling about how much he loves stays and felix fighting tears, you feel it. a pinky hooking softly around yours.

you glance down for half a second. his hand, resting casually between you, barely touching. but his pinky wraps around yours, a silent promise. safe, hidden in the folds of your oversized sleeves.

seungmin doesn’t look at you. he just squeezes once, barely there. his thumb brushes absentmindedly over your knuckle, grounding you because he knew you might cry too. you don’t say anything, but the corners of your mouth lift just the tiniest bit, and you know he's noticed it despite his eyes looking straight ahead.

when the speeches are over and the final bows are done, you’re all waiting to usher off stage, laughing and bumping into each other like a messy line of dominos, seungmin falls into step beside you, close but not quite touching.

"you were good tonight," he says quietly, once you're out of earshot of the fans.

you tilt your head, pretending to think as you sip through your straw. "only tonight?"

he huffs a small laugh through his nose. "fine. you’re always good, my singer."

you nudge him with your elbow, grinning. "you too, min."

there’s a beat of comfortable silence, and then he says, almost shyly, "you make it easier."

you blink, warmth blooming in your chest. "same."

he doesn’t say anything else. he just bumps his shoulder against yours gently, and when you finally reach the dressing room, he lets his hand brush against yours again. just enough that you know, even in a crowd, even under a thousand lights, you’re not alone.

maybe that’s what makes it all so interesting. not the public moments, not the teasing or the playful banter— but the quiet, constant way you choose each other, even when no one’s really looking. but little do you know, that people always are. because the love between the two of you is so evident, it spills out in every glance, every shy smile, every touch you think is hidden. it’s so clear, so undeniable, that even the world beyond the stage can’t help but notice, and quietly, fondly, root for you both.

[jooyeonsvape]

fuck buddy : mingyu smut

genre: smut

w/c: 3.1k

warnings: dom!mingyu, sub!reader, female reader, sex toys, throat fucking, edging, dry humping, name calling

a/n: i hope you enjoy!! make sure to like and follow 🙏🏻 my requests are open, send me anything!

there's quite a big weight that immediately lifts off your shoulders when your boyfriend and you finally call it quits after contemplating the past few days on your future with each other. there was no malice or hatred between you and him, you've just grown apart through the years.

the two of you lived together, so now you were currently moving out, into your best friends apartment and starting anew. "thank you for letting me stay, i have money saved up so i'll pay half the rent every month," you hug your friend and she pulls back a little. "don't worry about rent, just cook for me and i'll be fine."

you finish packing the last of your things at your now ex-boyfriends house and look around the room you shared years of love together. you let out a deep sigh, leave the house, and put your key under the mat. 

your bestfriend and you go to her apartment, quickly unpacking your items in her spare room, and you plop on her couch when you're finished. "we should go out tonight and meet cute boys," she suggests and you start giggling, shaking your head. "i just ended a 3 year relationship 2 days ago, i'm not looking for another one right now." 

your friend wraps her arms around you, always being this touchy with everyone, so you were used to it. "i'm not saying get in a relationship right away, you need a 'slut phase', it's healthy after breaking up with someone," she huffs, pulling away from your body so she could cross her arms, "i'd actually prefer sleeping around rather than be in a relationship." 

you hum and think on it. the last time you've had sex was months ago due to your schedules being different and your ex never having the time for you, which was one of the reasons for the breakup. 

"okay, but instead of going out, can we have a girls night with our other friends and just scroll through tinder or something?" you pout, not really wanting to socialize with anyone right now. she nods and texts in your friends' group chat, 'slumber party at our apartment, bring snacks.'

during the sleepover, you scroll through tinder not being particularly impressed by anyone so far, but you continue and try to be less picky.

after hours of scrolling, you only found a few that was up to par with your type and one of your friends gasp loudly, making everyone turn their head. “im so stupid!! if you want to experience new things instead of vanilla sex, you should see mingyu!” your best friend claps her hands and grabs your shoulders, “you NEED to visit mingyu, i should’ve suggested it before.”

all the girls seem to know who he is, but you are looking around like a lost puppy, being the only one not knowing the name. “i’ll pay for your first night with him, don’t worry.” one of the other friends say, typing on her phone.

“wait wait wait… who the hell is mingyu?” you finally ask and there is a blush on all of their faces.

“he beds bored women and knows a women’s body better than they do.”

“he’s so sexy.”

“i’ve spent thousands on him when i need to feel something.”

you nod and get quite intimidated at the thought of sleeping with someone besides your ex. “well, what does he look like?” you whisper out and when the phone is turned to you, of his face, your breathe stops for a minute.

your heart was beating fast and hands are clammy just looking at his picture. “how much do you have to pay?” you ask and your friends look at each other. “$100 an hour, $1,000 to spend the night, and a $50 an hour fee for a phone call.” your mouth goes wide and look at them to see if they were pranking you, but their faces showed no indication of joking.

“that’s far too expensive..” you mumble and your best friend shakes her head, “it’s worth it, i promise.” you just simply shrug and your other friend sets up a date for next week, paying the fee.

the nervousness that you felt in your stomach all week only heightened as you walk to the address of mingyu. he said to be there at 5:00 pm but you were running a little late, hopefully he didn’t mind.

at 5:25 pm exactly you follow the instructions that your friend gave you, typing a code on mingyu’s apartment security system. a loud buzzer noise was heard and the door unlocks for you, entering the extravagant apartment.

you walk down a hallway, looking around for the man your friends keep raving about, and finally see a figure sitting in a chair, cross legged.

“mingyu? sorry i’m late-” before you could finish your sentence, the man cuts you off, “it’s mr. mingyu or mr. kim, and you are late, which i don’t like.” he sternly speaks, making your body get chills. “s-sorry..” you whimper out, walking closer to him.

the room was dark and you can’t even see his face, just his body in a suit. he switches on a lamp next to him, looking your body up and down. “you’re forgiven, after all this is your first time to see me. if you do it again you’re going to be punished, got it?” mingyu asks, but you were curious on what kind of punishment he was talking about. “got it?” he again asks, more persistently this time and you nod.

mingyu sighs and stands up from the chair, walking closer to you until you hit the wall behind you. he puts a hand on the wall aggressively next to your head, and the other tracing your cheek skin with his thumb. “you’re quite pretty darling… i wonder why you came to see me.”

a puddle of wetness was soon forming in your panties at his hand touching your skin, he seemed to know how to handle your body even though he’s only touched your cheek so far. “i just broke up with someone, needed more experience.” you mutter out and mingyu hums, leaning down to kiss your cheek where he was rubbing.

“it says you’re open to anything sexually on your invoice, so i’m going to assume there’s no rules?” he asks looking at his phone and you shake your head, “no sir.” when mingyu hears the name his lip curls, still looking at your invoice. “we have 3 hours together, let’s have some fun.”

you were so nervous about what he was about to do to you but it was also thrilling, the only sex you’ve ever known was missionary and it only lasted 5 minutes maximum.

mingyu walks the both of you to his bed where he had a plethora of toys on a side table next to the bed, making you gulp. “lay down pet, i’ll take good care of you.” his voice was so low it made your skin cover with goosebumps.

“i am very kinky, i pride myself on being able to make a woman cum on command. i don’t like kissing on the lips or using my dick, so everything i do to you will be from my fingers, mouth, or the various toys.” mingyu introduces and you nod, finding it weird he won’t be having actual sex with you.

“if it’s too much for you, we can have a safe word if you’d like, i usually go with grapefruit.” mingyu continued and you just nod again, “that’s fine.”

you watch as the man walks to your side of the bed, managing to take off your shirt and also unclip your bra at the same time, taking both of the pieces off skillfully. you were astonished at his fingers and he sees you looking impressed, chuckling to himself.

you were now left in panties and skirt, squeezing your thighs together gently at the puddle still building in your underwear. mingyu grabs your boobs in his hands, giving them a big squeeze, your body jolting at his roughness.

he leans in to give your neck kisses while he lifts up your skirt, letting your panties be visible to him. mingyu teases you by trailing a finger down your body, dragging it painfully slow, past your belly button and to the top of your pantie line.

his pace never fastens as he enters his long fingers inside your panties, his middle finger rubbing slow circles around your clit. the noise you made when he touched you was foreign, never feeling something so pleasurable.

you hear a low chuckle come from his mouth when you moan and squirm in his arms so he would give you more. “be patient baby girl.” mingyu murmured in your ear, sending chills down your back. “i’ll take my time with you.”

you restlessly lay while he rubs your clit with two fingers now, building speed with every circle he does over your bean.

your body jerks and moans slip out, bucking your hips gently. “damn, how needy are you?” mingyu teases, dragging a finger down your folds, “you’re so wet Y/N.” you moan, biting down hard on your lip when he enters a finger inside your tight pussy.

“take off the rest of your clothes, i want to play with you.” he commands, standing to pick up a few toys off his table.

you look over as you were undressing, seeing him holding a vibrator, dildo, and handcuffs. you gulp down the knot stuck in your throat, nervous for what was about to come.

“lay spread eagle, im going to cuff you.” you nod and do as instructed, your arms and legs spreading wide for him. he tightens the cuffs around your limbs, giving your clit a kiss once he’s done and grabs the vibrator.

mingyu turns it on low, dragging it up and down your pussy, making your body already spasm. the movements of the feeling of it rest on your clit was so erotic, you’ve never owned one and you didn’t know it felt this good.

“why are you holding your moans? tell me how good i make you feel.” he whispers, looking up at you through his eyelashes and you nod, letting the breathe you didn’t know you were holding, out. you never dirty talked before or had it done to you so it made you shy when you hear his voice.

“i’m going to use this next,” mingyu states, holding up the biggest dildo you’ve ever seen. you gulp again, the girth was bigger than your forearm and you stutter, “i-is that going to fit in me?” he chuckles at your innocence and nods, giving your pussy a hard slap, making you moan loud. “it’ll fit perfectly.”

you relax and look down at him rubbing your juices on the tip, teasing your hole before sliding the dildo in you. the vibrator was still buzzing on your clit when he did this and you instantly cum without meaning to. you let out the biggest yell of the night, gripping the headboard under your restriced wrists.

mingyu smirks to himself, knowing you just came, and pushes the dildo further inside you. he didn’t expect to let you leave here with just one orgasm.

you became more comfortable with moaning, yelling his name at times and he gives your clit a slap every time you didn’t say “mr. mingyu.”

he finally enters the dildo inside you fully, sitting up so he could roughly thrust it in and out of you, never missing your soft spot with every move. “f-fuck, i’m cumming again.” you yell out, arching your back.

he took this as a chance to tease you, pulling the dildo out of you quickly, seeing your hole tighten when he removed the toy. he also pulls the vibrator off your clit then stands to uncuff you, watching you pant and shake from the pleasure.

mingyu stands above you, picking you up and positioning you to doggy style, engulfing your pussy in his mouth. “you taste so sweet, best pussy i’ve ever eaten.” he was being truthful whether you knew it or not, he enjoyed tasting you on his tongue.

there was a strange feeling in his pants he’s never felt with any of his other dates, he was growing a hard on by your moans. “can you please stick a finger in?” you ask pitifully, turning around to look at him with a dirty smirk he hasn’t seen yet.

mingyu clears his throat and adjusts his pants, trying to get any kind of pressure on his dick he could. “say the magic word.” he gets back in his character, teasing your hole with his finger but not entering it until you say please.

you continue to look at him and push your ass backwards so his finger enters, he was stunned but it was so hot. you continue to move your ass and fuck his finger, not needing his help.

mingyu pulls his finger away and stands up, pressing his bulge to your ass, giving you a hard slap. he slowly grinds against you which he’s never done before, giving you two more slaps, making your ass red.

“you seem hard sir, do you think you should slide your big dick inside me?” you ask, already knowing he didn’t fuck his clients.

mingyu pulls his hips away, throwing you on your back so he can see your face. “you’re such a slut.” he groans, lifting your legs up as high as they could go. “you want me to fuck you this badly?” he asks looking down at your wetness leaking on his sheets.

“yes i want you to fill me up sir.” you whimper, grabbing your sensitive boobs in your hands, squeezing on them hard. even you were surprised by your actions but he uncovered a secret freak inside you didn’t know was there.

mingyu hesitates before unbuckling his belt, there was something about you that made him want to feel your walls around him. even if girls before begged, he never fucked them.

“come to the end of the bed and suck my dick.” he commands and you crawl to his standing body, helping him take off his pants. “i’ve never done this before, so you have to teach me.” you smirk, gripping his big dick his your small hand.

when mingyu hears this he takes your hand that was wrapped around him, spitting on it, “jerk.” you nod, getting more wet at the feeling of his spit on you.

your hand goes up and down on his dick, jerking with a hard grip on him. without being asked, you lean down and spit on his tip, mixing his precum with your spit, going back to jerk him fast.

the sight of you jerking him made his dick grow bigger and you lean down slowly kissing his tip. he throws his head back and moans lowly, the sound making you take him all in your mouth.

you bob your head up and down on his dick, laying your tongue flat on the bottom of it, “you sure you haven’t done this before?” mingyu asks between moans with a laugh, your cheeks turning red.

he grabs the sides of your head, slowly starting to thrust in your mouth, making you gag. he was encouraged by your gags, gradually going faster.

saliva was dripping out of your mouth as mingyu slams harder in your throat, giving you no mercy as he slams. “you like this baby girl? you got me to fuck your whore mouth.” he grunts, starting to sweat at his hairline.

you moan against him, sending vibrations and he gives one last hard slam before pulling out of your mouth, the spit dripping down your chin. “so sexy.” he whispers, laying on his back and jerking himself at the sight of you.

“come ride me.”

“yes sir.” you say hoarsely, straddling his waist and looking down at half of his suit still on. you pull the tie off slowly and grind against him, making him give you an ass slap.

“what did i say?” mingyu asks, bucking up his hips underneath you, slapping you again when you ignore him.

“i want to see your beautiful chest sir.” you pout, unbuttoning the buttons on his shirt purposely slow. he grunts and grabs your waist, letting you grind fast on his aching cock.

after you successfully take off his shirt, you lean down, kissing his neck and chest. your liquids now fully covered his dick with your grinds and he lifts you up, slamming into you without warning. “fuck mingyu!!” you yell and he slaps your ass hard, banging his hips up into you fast.

the fast movements made you tighten around him, and you started bouncing on him in the same rhythm as his thrusts. you grab your boobs and throw your head back, the feeling of your clit rubbing against his lower abdomen making you cum soon.

“i’m close sir, can i cum?” you ask, kissing his neck more and leaving hickeys. mingyu hums with pleasure, both of you keeping your fast pace.

“cum with me.” he commands and you whimper, not knowing when he’d cum. you hold it in as long as you can but start shaking when he teases you by rubbing your clit.

you stop your movements and fall into his neck when he fucks you, the pleasure getting too intense.

he kisses your ear and you can hear his grunts, “cum now.” he whispers, slapping your ass again, your body spasming ontop of him, and let out another yell that came out as a cry.

mingyu groans just as loud, feeling his warm cum shoot inside your pussy, you follow his lead and cum around him. he feels you tighten your walls around him and moans, his dick sensitive from the orgasm.

you lay on his chest, dick still inside you, heavy breathing in his neck. “that was the best sex i’ve ever had.” you whisper in his ear and he nods, rubbing your butt slowly in his hand. “me too baby.”

you blush at him, nuzzling your head in his sweaty neck, “you do this as a job, there’s no way i was the best.” you laugh and he kisses your head softly, “it really was, i dont get to use my dick often.”

you blush more and look up at mingyu’s red and wet face, “my 3 hours is over, thank you for today.”

he grabs your waist so you couldn’t get up and lays your head back in neck. “i think you have a few more hours.” his eyes were closed and he was murmuring so you knew he was tired, as were you.

you giggle softly, “are you going to fall asleep inside me?” he nods, grabbing a blanket and putting it over the two of you. “you can get free services from now on.” he whispers and you knew he would be a long, pleasurable fuck buddy.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

꒰ঌ ໒꒱ angel!r x season one Rafe

To everyone else, you’re the sweetest girl on the outer banks- exuding everything he’s not. When you’re helping a hurt animal on the street, nursing it back to health. Or when you would donate a large sum of money to charities simply because you can. Or when you would use your time to volunteer at children’s shelters, helping the poor little pogues on the cut when no one else will.

The two of you are an unlikely, odd, couple. The gossiping old ladies called you the most “unfitting couple in the obx.”

But their words didn’t matter, because you knew you both fit together like glue. You’re his, and he’s yours. It worked.

Behind closed doors, you and Rafe were also the most passionate couple in the obx.

No one knew how Rafe could do anything to you, and you would thank him. No matter how degrading, nasty, or even insane it sounds.

And Rafe wouldn’t hesitate to do any of it.

Shoving a loaded Glock down your throat while you humped his lap like a damn dog, making you run naked in the woods behind his house while he chased you, spitting on your face and smearing it all over, using you while you slept, finger fucking you in public, fucking you in the ass while he held a knife to your throat, the list can go on.

Though of course no one needed to know that side of you. He’d let you keep up the sweet, little, angel girl act for now, and he could keep the rich, coked up, fuckboy act.

I’m your god

Tattoo artist!rafe x angel reader

[okwonyo]

LESSONS ， 𝗉𝗌𝗁

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐕 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝖺 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗍𝗎𝗍𝗈𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽𝗌

𝟏𝟐𝟑𝟔𝒾──── tutor!sunghoon 𝗑 f!rea ✿ fluff getting together 𓂋 kissing skinship ❞ 𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆 ｡

rbs ！ ✶ 𝗔 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦 for @tzyunaes ◜ ᴗ ◝

“you did well, i’m proud of you.”

it’s long overdue. passing your chemistry exams, after a entire semester of spending your free time at school, to be tutored and tortured.

tortured by the creation of the gods themselves leaning right behind you, overing your shoulder to see your grade, close enough to rest his hot breath against your neck.

you can exhale again when he finally leaves the personal space he seems to like a lot, the personal space that is yours. he sits on the chair next to you, which is not better than his previous position. his presence itself drives you crazy.

sunghoon licks his lips. sending a random cramp in the pit of your stomach. you don’t really know what to do, you open your mouth slightly to say something alas your tutor’s unwavering gaze makes you unable to talk.

“can i kiss you?” your eyes widen. saying that you are surprised is an understatement. and seeing the man’s remaining calm demeanor baffles you even more.

there is much you want to say, many questions he needs to answer. however, as in every lesson, you are unable to formulate a proper sentence. “i–what?”

sunghoon chuckles as he watches your cheeks redden. behind his frameless glasses, his eyes narrow, teasingly.

“i want to kiss you, i never tried to hide it,” he states, in this borderline condescending, undeniably attractive tone he always uses. “i think you want to kiss me too.”

you could pass out from embarrassment alone. you never thought your attraction to him, your tiny crush was well hidden. your unceasing thought and wonders on how his mouth would taste like, however— you believed they were a bit more discreet.

“so, i’m asking, can i kiss you?”

“uh,” you wonder, silently, if you have ever sounded this stupid before, “sure.”

your shaking and breathy answer doesn’t seem to bother him. he looks more endeared than anything else— even making fun of you in his head.

“great,” he says, taking one of your chair’s legs. he pulls you closer to himself in a quick movement and you know, he is somehow flexing his muscles right now.

sunghoon thinks its lovely how easy it is to make you nervous. from the first tutoring session, he knew that his mission would be to, making you understand chemistry apart, seduce you.

he was never subtle about it. he loves to tease you with his weighing gaze, standing close to you but never touching, sliding allusions in his words and watching you physically react to all of his actions.

making you learn chemistry wasn’t the hardest part. you were cute, very cute, and smart: able to understand terribly fast. the hardest part of the job was trying to make you notice how bad he wanted to kiss you.

he passed most all of his time biting his lower lip, nervously bumping his knee, crossing his arms under his chest as he watched you bite into your pen.

when he wasn’t explaining chemistry to you, he was thinking of the obvious one between you and him—while wondering what your lips would taste like.

sunghoon is a pretty bold guy, yet he haven’t earned the courage to do anything but tease you. today, he asked if he could kiss you without planning, controlled by a sense of hurry, thinking it would be his very last chance.

as he leans in, he still wonders: what is the taste of the lipstick you are wearing, what does your soft lips under it feels like, if would you run your finger through his hair, if you would cup his face in your gentle hands, jf would you let him touch you, if would you touch him.

he knew, from the moment his mouth was on yours, that he wouldn't want to stop. it’s a small kiss, a mere and shy contact, but he still sighs when he gets what he wants.

it’s nothing really, yet it sends butterflies right to his stomach.

“ninety four out of hundred on a chemistry test,” his voice is hoarse as he pulls away a tad. “how many kisses is that, hm?”

“…a lot,” you answer.

“oh, yeah?” he breathily laughs. he puts his hand in the back of your head, “i think so too.”

meanwhile he restrained himself the first time, he is not strong enough to control himself the second time. after months of dreaming about this, finally getting it, he doesn’t want to be shy about what he wants to do to you.

he groans into your mouth when his glasses gets in the way. he is forced to pull away from your heavenly lips to take them off and yank them somewhere he can’t care enough of.

through his slightly opened eyelids, he sees you with your eyes closed, chasing for his lips and looking at least as desperate as he is.

his heart is pounding, his hand finding the nape of your neck, he presses you closer to himself, so goddamn eager to kiss you again.

your lipstick tastes like peaches, your fingers craving in his hair sends chills down his long spine, you let him him stroke the side of your thigh as your touch drives him insane.

and if he thinks you are the one trying to send him into a spiral— then he must not know that his hand slide from thigh all the way to your hips.

he pulls your hips, closer, closer, closer. he continues until he is satisfied, until you are right where he wanted, right how he wanted: out of breath and climbing on his lap.

while your tutor is living his dearest dreams, a scenario better than his most precious fantasies, you feel like melting under the melt of his praise.

he always does that. he is always telling you how good you are doing, how proud of you he is for the bare minimum. it already sent waves of warmth in your body, but when you are doing this, it’s different.

“holy shit, baby,” his voice is shaky between a deep kiss. “you are so good at this,” —he licks your lips— “keep going.”

sunghoon’s thick eyebrows furrow as the kiss gets deeper. you grip onto his shoulders for the life of you— feeling your pulse getting higher and your skin heating every passing second.

you move your lips against his, like it was your birthright to be in this position as of now.

perhaps. you don’t know how long he can kiss without breathing but you are sure it’s way much longer than you.

sunghoon whines when you pull away, chasing after your lips with multiple pecks. you have to tilt your head up, a giggle escaping from your breathless chest— he aims for your neck.

“i’ll teach you how to last longer,” he smiles against your neck. then he looks pauses to look at you.

you rest your forehead against his, biting down an obvious smile, “i hope you don't reward all your students like this.”

“only the ones i want.”

you wrap your arms around his neck, leaning in for another kiss. “cute.”

sunghoon pulls you closer to his circle of warmth by your waist. he kisses you so hard that you almost lose your mind, living up to his words, kissing you until there is no other option but pulling away with heavy chests.

chemistry is the best subject ever.

분지 ܃ in the utmost hope jenn will come back to me— and that the hoon girlies will come my way 💌 thank you ima for helping me out with this ! ^_^

© 𝖮𝖪𝖶𝖮𝖭𝖸𝖮 ୨୧ 𝟐𝐎𝟐𝟓 ── taglist ( open )

[pinkiebieberpie]

today we are talking about a biker!bucky who is trying to be a big bad biker, but let's be honest with a white, fluffy cat by his side? being a rough badass is not really an option; he is a cutie but tries to keep his tough mask on;

you two are not really a childhood friends, but you grew up in the same neighbourhood, but your lives couldn't be more different now... bucky being in a biker gang and your well... very normal life;

when you two sometimes meet somewhere in town you always tease him about alpine — "this big, bad biker with a fluffy white ball? you are being adorable, bucky"

"no, i'm not."

"you are a cutie with a cute cat!"

"she's a badass like me! and she's sassy!"

"james... this is a white ball of fur..."

"...okay and this white ball got the softest damn fur you'll ever feel. and she purrs like a engine when you pet her."

god i wish i was the one who's purring.

masterlists

(if anyone wants some headcanons to this moodboard let me know cause i do have some 👀)

[artspats]

Baseline

She sat on the court, legs stretched out, fingers pressing into her calves. The sky was low and gray, the kind that made the air feel heavier. Practice had ended twenty minutes ago, but she stayed, tying and retying her shoelaces, waiting for something.

Art stood near the net, rolling a tennis ball between his palms. His shirt clung to his back, damp from the session, but he wasn’t in a rush to leave either. He watched her, his eyes half-lidded, unreadable.

“You’re zoning out,” he said, walking over. “Tired?”

She shook her head. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

She hesitated, then shrugged. “Nothing.”

He smirked like he didn’t believe her, but he crouched down next to her anyway. The scent of sweat and sunblock clung to him, something oddly familiar, almost comforting.

“You played well today,” he said, tapping the ball against the ground. “Fast hands. Good footwork. We just need to work on your backhand a little more.”

She nodded, picking at the tape on her racket handle.

“You know,” Art continued, stretching his legs out like hers, “you’re at a crucial point in your career. These years? They matter. You don’t want to waste them on… distractions.”

She exhaled through her nose, already knowing where this was going.

“Distractions like what?” she asked, playing dumb.

Art let the ball roll away, brushing his palms off on his shorts. “Like parties. Boys your age” His voice was calm, like he was just stating a fact. “You’re better than that.”

She laughed under her breath. “I don’t think hanging out with people my age is a waste of time.”

Art turned to face her fully. “It is if they’re not on your level. And let’s be honest…” He gave her a look, one eyebrow raised. “They’re not.”

She looked away, jaw tightening. He always did this—made it sound like she was different. Like that was a good thing.

“I just think it’s normal,” she said, quieter now.

“Sure, maybe. But you’re not normal. You have talent. A future.” His hand landed on her knee, casual, just for a second. “And you know I just want the best for you, right?”

She swallowed, nodding.

“Good,” he said, standing up and stretching. “Come in early tomorrow. We’ll run drills before school.”

She nodded again, watching as he walked toward the locker rooms, his confidence easy, effortless.

The tennis ball he’d let go sat still in the dirt beside her, half-buried, like it had been dropped and forgotten.

Part 2: Smartie

Part 3: Needy

Part 4: Greedy

Part 5: Heady

[rafescherie]

✮⋆˙ rafe finding out you like being choked during intimacy.

warnings — 18+. MDNI. pure smut. choking kink. slight praise and degradation + humiliation.

cherie's note — i would let rafe cameron strangle me to death please

it was wrong.

so fucking wrong. and disgusting, at that.

the idea of somebody wrapping their hand around your throat while they focused on the sensation of feeling so good? it was filthy in a way that made your skin burn and your heart race with something way too close to guilt. what kind of girl wanted that? what kind of girl got turned on by the idea of someone's hand wrapped around their neck; of surrendering completely and still begging for more? you couldn't tell rafe that — too scared, too ashamed — but the idea kept coming back.

his hand would be perfect wrapped around your pretty little throat, and you found your thighs squeezing together pathetically at the thought itself.

his cock was buried inside of you, thrusting deep and slow, like he had all the time in the world to ruin you. your legs were trembling, back arching off of the bed — and then, his hand slid up, fingers wrapping around your throat on a whim, without warning. and you gasped. your body betrayed you instantly — tightening around him so hard he cursed under his breath.

"that did it for you?" he groaned out, the length of him slipping effortlessly against the velvet warm of your cunt, "jesus christ, you're worse off than i thought."

you whimpered out at his words, face flushing with embarrassment. with shame. he rocked into you mercilessly, the knot tightening with each touch of pressure against the pulse point of your neck. your eyes flutter shut, rolling to the back of your head methodically as his fat cock nudged against that sweet spot inside of you.

"pussy's choking me," he laughs, cruel and teasing. your skin only served to flush further from guilt, "you're a fucking mess."

his grip on your throat tightened just enough to make the edges of your vision blur, the weight of it grounding you in the filth of the moment. every thrust felt deeper, sharper, like he was trying to fuck the shame out of you — like he enjoyed watching you unravel. "all brainless and fucked out just from a little pressure," he muttered, his breath hot against your cheek.

his hand flexed slightly, dragging a whimper out from your lips that only made his smirk grow. your nails dug into his back, desperate for something to hold onto, but he didn't slow — just kept driving into you, using your body like he owned it, like it was made to take him this way.

it hit you all at once — sharp and overwhelming, like your body had been teetering on the edge for too long. your thighs shook violently, walls clamping down around him like never before as your orgasm tore through you, messy and loud and impossible to hold back. a broken cry ripped from your throat, strangled by the pressure of his hand still wrapped around it, and he didn't let up — not the grip, not the pace, not the way he watched you fall apart like he'd planned it this way from the start. "fuck— there it is," he groaned, voice thick with praise, "that's it, baby. knew you'd cum the second i wrapped my hand around that pretty throat. sick little thing." his words spilled over your skin like gasoline, igniting the last spark of shame left within you as you trembled beneath him, completely ruined.

[barbiiecams]

doubts

drew starkey x younger!reader (like 19/20 sorry not sorry 😭), reader calls drew “papa” *not in a weird way*, smut, in love w the age gap concept cus of @native2princess ! <3

you watched yet another video on the internet of drew down at disney world without you, but with his friend group that all had a few years on you.

he would send pictures of everything that was cute or that reminded him of you, and you really did appreciate it. but it still didn’t swallow the lingering feeling in your gut.

you weren’t even invited. it was obvious why since you couldn’t even buy a drink legally, let alone not even close with half of them, but for some reason it still hurt and had you questioning things even further about everything.

you swore that you guys were drifting apart.

not only did that make you sad, but it also left you scared and questioning everything.

the only thing that made you wonder why you two were drifting like you thought you were was because of the age gap.

was he getting tired of you? was the age gap starting to become a burden? were you just too immature?

and let’s not even get started on how drew acted around his female friends — that were once again a lot older.

all you could do was just cry. it was a dumb reason to cry about, but you don’t wanna lose drew yet you really think you are. he was your first and you hoped he’d be your last, but who knows where you two may end up?

seeing how he acted with his friends currently was already ruining you. now you found yourself down a rabbit hole of searching through old videos of him before you were even dating.

it was crazy, of course you were aware of that. but it did nothing but further increase your worries seeing how he would act around these girls. all older than you and all more outgoing.

so now here you were, stalking your own boyfriend while you sat in your bed, silent tears streaming down your face.

currently, drew was now in paris for the fashion show. he wanted you to come, but it would be too difficult for you. plus school had just ended and both of you knew that you were planning to spend more time with your family this summer.

regardless of that, this feeling was awful. you’ve had old puppy-love heart breaks during highschool with guys you dated just to say you were in a relationship, but this is real. a real committed relationship you’re in with a guy a little over 10 years older than you.

he’s so mature. so are you, but not entirely. you still had a lot more to experience and learn, and he was always so patient.

but maybe now that patience was wearing thin.

you sniffle one more time before closing out all your apps and throwing your phone on the nightstand next to you. wanting to sleep it off and praying you’d wake up feeling better, your insides just were not letting that happen. not to mention you couldn’t fall asleep without at least getting a goodnight text from him.

laying down was no use. as soon as you tried to lay your head down on the pillow and just relax, the overthinking just continued to grow. there was no escape from these thoughts and it was just eating you straight alive.

you huff while turning over, switching sides and seeing if that would help. spoiler: it didn’t.

all you could do now is groan while sitting up. a certain thought ran through your mind that you really didn’t want to go through with, but did you have a choice? you already felt as if the end of things are near, so why let him break your heart (even though you’d be expecting it) when you can just do it the hard part first?

with a sigh, you reached over to grab your phone and open drew’s contact. everything was making you sick. you just stared at the screen, skimming over the conversation you had earlier.

it was the usual. ‘hows your day’, ‘i miss you’, ‘this reminded me of us’, all the cute stuff.

but it just didn’t hit the same. that feeling of him leaving you because of your age wasn’t going anywhere, and it was making you feel insecure on extreme ends

your fingers started typing. there were no real thoughts, just your pure raw emotions. you hit backspace a couple of times, you sat there and thought about the next few words you were going to say, but eventually you got it all put together it pained you type, but it pained you even more contemplating on whether or not you should send it.

‘hey drew. i’ve been missing you a lot recently and i know it’s weird and you’re going to question why i sent this after you read it, but im sorry. i really do feel like you’re leaving me soon and it’s taking a toll on me badly. i don’t want this to end but i can tell that it is and i just know + feel like we’re drifting apart. i feel like it’s because of my age so i really do understand and respect that. we can talk more once you get back because i hate to do this over text but i can’t just bottle my feelings anymore. goodnight 🩷’

a few more seconds of contemplation, you hit send and stared at the screen. you didn’t know how he would respond so you should’ve been shutting off your phone and running away.

but you didn’t. you stared at the screen and waited until he read it.

thankfully, it didn’t take him any longer than three minutes to open your message, and soon after, the dots were bubbling.

drew himself was lost. confused wasn’t even the word for the long paragraph you just sent him. he even started triple texting you.

‘???’

‘what are you talking about baby?’

‘i’m so lost’

you sighed reading his texts. he didn’t get it, realistically you shouldn’t have expected him to. it was out of the blue, and little to your knowledge, he didn’t think for a second anything was wrong between you too.

when you didn’t answer him as soon as you read it, he went back to typing.

‘answer me’

‘i’m really confused and worried. it’d be nice if you stopped leaving me on read’

‘call me now’

you didn’t even have a chance to start typing because you had an incoming call with drew’s name on it. you didn’t wanna pick up, but you knew you had to because if the roles were reversed, oh you’d definitely be throwing a fit.

swallowing quickly, you hit the green answer button to drew’s facetime call but moved your face out of the camera.

he’s walking, most likely back to his hotel with furrowed eyebrows and an expression that you think showed… annoyance?

drew’s the first one to speak up, “y/n, what the hell are you talking about?” he says sounding very confused and very upset as well.

“i feel like we’re drifting apart apart i don’t know.” you replied. your voice isn’t even a third as stern as his. it’s not stern at all nor convincing.

“where is that coming from? what are you talking about it’s our ages?” he questions you again.

you really hoped a fan wouldn’t come up to him. not because it would interrupt the call, but because they would be walking up on him pissed off and getting a taste of his very apparent bad mood.

you sighed, “it’s just how i feel. maybe i’m not mature enough for this.”

his face scrunches with confusion even further. he then looks down to his screen to see the ceiling you were showing.

“why do you all of a sudden feel this way? you are mature. if you weren’t, this relationship wouldn’t be a thing in the first place.”

this was something else you wanted to avoid; him being mad at you. you hated making him upset and now that you were already upset, and he was just getting annoyed with you, it wasn’t helping and it made you feel worse.

“show me your face baby. you know i don’t like talking to walls.” he says once you don’t respond to his actual voice this time.

reluctantly, you put your face in the screen. sitting up and cuddling onto your bed sheets.

“y/n, nothing is wrong. we aren’t drifting apart at all so i don’t know why you feel otherwise. we’re okay and you know this, baby. stop overthinking.” he reassures you.

before you could finally respond with anything else, you heard a few girls calling his name from the other side of his phone. good luck to them!

“i’ll call you back. we’re not done talking.” he says, then swiftly hangs up.

you wanted to puke. you hated being in any type of conflict with people, let alone being in one with drew.

a headache was starting to form, and it forced you to lay back down and sleep. you kept your phone right next to you on your bed, just in case drew woke you up by ringing your phone again.

—

you weren’t sure when the previous night you fell asleep, but you didn’t wake up until 12 the next day. and that was due to your doorbell ringing multiple times at once.

you whined at the fact you had to leave your warm bed, but you slowly made your way down your apartment’s stairs, rubbing your eyes and forcing yourself to wake up.

opening the door ready to curse out whoever had the nerve to wake you up at this hour, it was drew standing at the door with flowers in one hand and his stuff in the other.

now this is what really woke you up.

“how are you here…?” you questioned.

he exhales, “soon as we hung up yesterday i checked out and booked a flight here. we really need to talk in person.

you step to the side to let him in, then he shuts the door behind him and hands you the flowers.

both of you take a seat at the table. “i need you to fully explain what you’re feeling. that paragraph honestly made no sense and as soon as i read the whole thing i knew i had to get down here.” he says.

you press your lips together before speaking. “i’m sorry.”

he makes a face of puzzlement and also motions for you to keep going.

“maybe im not mature enough for this, drew. i don’t know.”

“what makes you think that? what happened or what did i do that has you questioning everything?” he asks, reaching out for your hand.

you sniffle before continuing, “i just feel like im holding you back. you’re buying drinks, going to clubs and hanging out with your friends who are all around your age and im still in school. it’s not working-”

he cuts you off before you can finish that. “those aren’t reasons, baby. it is working. do you feel left out or something?”

“no it’s just,”

there’s a pause before he says something again, “just what? i don’t understand what’s got you so in your head.

“i don’t know how to explain it. i just think you’re drifting from me because of where we’re at in life and i hate it.” the words finally form, and you can feel a little bit of weight being lifted off your chest now that you’ve got it out.

his expression now shows a face of understanding, then he’s standing up and swiftly making his way over to you, lifting you up before securing your legs around him.

you let out a squeal at the action. when he was balanced, he made his way upstairs to your room with you in his arms.

stepping into your decorated room, he throws you down on the bed then hovers over you. “i’m gonna prove to you that you deserve this relationship.”

his lips make their way to your jaw, leaving little lovebites on them, then down to your neck and chest.

your hands fly to his buzzed head. you let out soft sighs at his lips being on your body, a feeling you loved the most.

his hands travel to your pajama shorts then dipped into the waistband of your panties. as hes taking them both off at the same time, he distracts you by now placing his lips on yours, slowly making out with you.

now your hands are taking action, working to get is shirt off to see his toned body once again. when it’s off, one hand is still on his head while the other goes down to his abs, feeling on him.

now he’s starting to get quick, fumbling with his belt and pants, ready to do you into the mattress.

sooner than later, both of your clothes are off and in random sports throughout the room.

his middle and ring finger are inside you, stretching your out as you moan and grind into his hand.

drew’s cock is laying there on your stomach, practically reaching your ribs. this was just another reminder of how deep he really goes when fucking you.

you could barely keep your eyes on him while his fingers worked you. “that feel good?”

you moan out a “yea.” you definitely couldn’t let him go. the way he could make you fall apart with just his fingers is crazy as it is.

“i bet, baby. already so wet. you know what you want huh?” he coos.

this makes you nod. “want your cock, please.” you reach your hand down to where it rested on you, but he moves your hand away.

“i know you do. but i need this pussy stretched and ready for me.” he responds

“i can take it! promise! just give it to me,” you whine.

drew gives in at your begging. he removes his fingers from inside you before sticking them in your mouth.

he grabs his cock before lining it up with your entrance. he slowly pushes in, making you whimper around his fingers. it hurt a little bit, but the pleasure overrode the pain.

“shhh,” he hushes you, putting his cock in all the way and forcing you to take all that he gave you.

you continued to let out sounds because of the pleasure he was giving you. drew was letting out groans of content himself.

“feels so good, baby. so fucking good.” he throws his head back.

his words did nothing but turn you on more. your eyes squeeze shut before you guide his hand out of your mouth and onto your throat, signaling what you want from him.

he smirks before moving his other hand to your throat, choking you slightly but enough that you can still breathe.

“yea you like when i go hard on you, right baby? this pussy just loves when i go rough on her, doesn’t she?” he teases.

“mhm!” you squeak, loving the feeling of just taking all of him so deep and so rough.

he makes your legs cross completely around him before leaning down into your neck.

this was your favorite position. you being on your back, him groaning in your hear and putting hickeys on your neck, it was so much at once and you loved it real bad.

his lips are right next to your ear. “i’m not going anywhere, yeah?”

he lets out another sound before continuing, “you’re not leaving me either. neither of us are going anywhere.

your breath catches in your throat when he says this. maybe this was all you needed. some reassurance, and a good pounding to go with it.

he sits up before pulling out to turn you around. now that you’re flat on your stomach, he slides right back in with a hand on your lower back right before your butt and the other pushing your head down into the pillows.

you screamed out when he started thrusting all over again. it hurt so good, you just wanted to do this forever him.

you tried to move away slightly because he was just going ham on your poor hole. but all it took was you reaching one hand up, gripping the sheets and trying to pull away before he yanked your head back by your hair. he then brought your back up to his chest and held you by your throat.

“stop running, baby.” he growls into your ear.

“it’s so deep tho, papa.” your eyes squeeze shut as your mouth hangs open.

he kisses right below your ear, “you’re fine.”

that bubbly feeling started to form again. you were about to cum, and somehow drew could always tell too.

“know you’re gonna cum, mama. hold that shit.” he tells you as he pushes you back into the sheets.

right now that request just didn’t seem possible. “i can’t!”

he gives your right cheek a firm slap. “you can and you will. don’t make me say it again.”

you guys stay in this position for a while. him just hitting it from the back deep and all you needed to do was lay there and take it like a good girl.

his good girl.

suddenly, he flips you back over, then lays down himself setting you on top. now he’s got his feet planted on the bed, thrusting up into you.

at this angle, you guys can see the belly bulge happening from how deep his cock was. just proving how big he really is again.

“see that baby? that’s me. all up in those guts.” he says to you.

you throw your head back, but he cups the back of your head to bring you down into him, chest to chest.

“y’the only one who gets fucked like this. y’know that? only one who deserves it too,” his arms wrap around your waist now. “only fucking one.”

his lips are practically on your ear as he says this. you’re only able to nod, but he wants to hear your voice.

“tell me you understand that baby, say it.” his thrusts slow down, but there still deep, and he’s angling it to make sure he’s hitting that good spot.

“i…”

another slap hits on to your cheek. “say it, princess.”

“yes! i understand!” you finally moan out.

“yes who, baby?”

“yes papa!” your voice is weak now.

he smirks at your submission and continues to fuck you hard. more than just a few thrusts later, he’s letting out a lot more groans than what he already was.

“shit baby… y’gonna make me cum soon. you gonna let me put it in you, hm?”

“drew…”

his hips are starting to stutter. “know you’re ready to cum too. been holding it in like papa told you too, good girl. fuckk.”

his arms are really really squeezing around your waist, keeping you still so you can’t try and move from his brutal thrusts.

“cum with me baby girl. got a big load for you.” he moans.

“don’t knock me up.” as good as the moment felt right now, you were dead serious about that.

he chuckles, “i won’t baby. know you wanna feel that cum all in your stomach tho.”

you moan one last time before finally cumming around him. you couldn’t hold it back anymore, no matter how much he told you to wait for him.

but your own orgasm sent his off. he felt you come undone around him, and two seconds later you felt his hot sperm fill you up.

drew’s arms moved from around your waist to seriously gripping your hips down, not letting you waist a drop of what he had to give you.

moans and deep breaths were coming from the both of you. that was the most intense sex you guys had for a while, not to mention the first time he’s actually came inside you.

when he finally came down from his high, he slowly pulled out of you and just let you rest on his chest.

“thank you,” you quietly speak up.

he doesn’t respond, but he smiles and kisses your forehead.

minutes after just sitting in silence, he sits up against your headboard and takes your face into your hands.

“baby, when i say youre what i want i mean it. if you weren’t mature enough for me, i wouldn’t still be here.” he says. you don’t actually answer, you want him to keep going.

“i love you so much, sweetheart. nothing about that is going to change and nothing can make it change. i don’t know what you saw or if i did something, but im sorry. okay?”

you nod with a smile. “okay.”

he smiles back at you then pressed his lips against yours, giving you a nice firm kiss. which slowly turned into a makeout.

you guys pull away just to catch your breath, “we gotta get you packed up, sweetheart.”

“for what?” you ask.

“i’m taking you back to paris with me.”

[globaloppaaa]

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 𓎢𓎟𓎡

i can totally see taesan teasing you, simply for his own satisfaction because he loves seeing you flustered. Just something about the way darling slips off his tongue is so satisfying, though you seem annoyed whenever he calls you it you can’t help but silently beg he says it more. The drill is usually the same: You two are somewhere quiet and calm, like over his apartment watching a movie. He’ll slip an arm over your shoulder, gently moving you against his chest. His other hand finds your chin, tilting it upwards so that your lips are mere inches apart. And in his raspy, quiet voice he’ll tell you his hearts’ strongest feelings.

“you know I adore you, darling.”

which is why it takes you by complete surprise when you hear your special name in a completely different setting. Taesan’s friends decide to get together one night, gaming to their hearts content. Naturally you figured he’d want to spend some time alone with the guys, particularly because you were both aware of their habits to tease even the slightest sight of affection from one of you. But when Taesan stops you just as you’re about to head home, tugging at the sleeve of your shirt. He mumbles something you can’t quite hear, and when he repeats himself you finally view the faint blush on his cheeks. “i want you to stay.” How could you ever refuse?

you say your hello’s when the boys arrive, opting to make a separate space for yourself to let them have their fun, but taesan’s quick to catch you withdrawing. He takes your hand gently and guides you to the space beside him, ultimately squeezing jaehyun out of his spot on the couch. jaehyun watches this gesture with a questionable look, before chuckling under his breath. “excuse me for getting in the way of true love.” Normally Taesan would make some whitty remark, teasing him for not having a girlfriend of his own, yet he just relishes in the feeling of being next to you this time, leading you to answer the other boy with a shrug.

After hours of laughter and never-ending conversations, leehan suggests running to the store to grab something to eat. You catch the way your boyfriend hesitates, a lingering hand resting on your thigh, but the peer pressure from his friends gets the best of him as they head towards the door. He looks at you, and you swear he’s almost pouting, before he stands up and leans his face above yours. “I’ll be back soon, okay darling?” Your eyes widen, as he flashes you his most dashing smile. He pecks you on your lips before catching up to his friends, who begin cooing at the poor boy for simply loving you so much.

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[webbluvrsugar]

being Rafe’s little trophy wife is… a hell of a journey.

Marrying this man wasn’t the first thought you had in mind, not by a mile, he was crazy, — that’s what everyone else said, that he was a psychopath with anger issues and that he didn’t care about anyone else but himself — but as soon as you saw that this man was making big figures every year, you couldn’t help but lean into the offer, he needed a wife, wouldn’t hurt to play into the part and live into the luxury life he would offer even if you didn’t know him.

So now there you were, on a date in the dining table of a fancy restaurant he planned and reserved and that somehow, he managed to arrive late to. Sure, you looked a little pathetic with a glass of rosé wine on your hands and waiting for the man to arrive, but when he does, the view is worth the time.

“Sorry doll, meeting ran late.” He sits down in front of you, the waiter looks at you with a surprised expression as if he thought your date wouldn’t show up, you smirk through the corner of your lips.

“It’s fine,” you smile at him, putting down your glass. “I ordered some wine if you don’t mind?” You ask, he scoffs at you as if a bottle of rosé wine would make him go bankrupt.

“Nahh, it’s fine,” he adjusts in his chair, slightly manspreading as he places his hands on the table before looking away and calling the waiter with a simple nod. “Have you thought about what you’re eating?” The waiter places the menus down.

“Uhm.. no, I was waiting for you.” You take the menu into your fingers, opening it a hand to fiddle through the pages, he does the same.

“Waiting, huh? So polite, aren’t you?” He’s almost toying with you, even if it’s just a meaningless tease, he still does it, makes you chuckle, he’s been in a few dates like this, but he’s actually interested in knowing you.

“Got to keep up the appearances.” You smile again, taking a sip of your wine, Rafe likes you, that’s a start.

This date is one of the best you’ve been in, it goes smoothly, you both have chemistry with each other, and after you’re tipsy from a few glasses of wine — and him too from his whiskey — he asks you if you want to come back to his place.

Of course you agree.

“Ohhh — fuck.” You whimper as he keeps ramming into you, hips thrusting with fervour into you as he shoves your head into he sheets, large hand firm and smothering you down, his other hand holding onto your hips.

“Shit, you’ll be such a good little trophy wife, yeah?” He smirks, you can practically feel that smirk on you. “A good housewife,” he lets go of your hips and delivers a sharp smack to your ass. “And even a good mom.”

You moan below him, hand clenching on the sheets, almost ripping through them as he keeps moving his hips.

“Don’t even need to speak,” he groans, his hand pulls you by your hair to make your back meet his chest, his lips find your ear.

“I know you will.”