flowerkidyjh

[flowerkidyjh]

      hoshi + guided masturbation

— your hook-up suddenly calls you in the middle of the night begging for some dirty talk.

WARNINGS: smut, +18, "im doing it. are you?" (just kidding), phone sex, guided masturbation, masturbation (f. & m.), mentions of body fluids (cum), dirty talk, power play, fingering, overstimulation

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

your phone rings, loud and out of place in the quiet of your room. your eyes flick from the half-finished essay on your screen to the screen of your phone, your hand already moving to silence it before you even check who it is. soonyoung. you squint at the clock—9 pm.

“what the fuck…” you mumble, frowning at the time. soonyoung never calls this late. not without a heads-up. not unless he’s... well, unless he’s horny. and you’d made it very clear to him that you need at least a day’s warning if he’s planning on one of those long, drawn-out nights where neither of you leaves the bed until the sun’s about to come up. your work schedule won’t survive an impromptu fuckathon on a weeknight. soonyoung knows this, damn well.

still, curiosity gets the better of you. maybe he’s just being Soonyoung, a chaotic dumbass who forgets the concept of time and consequences. or maybe he’s drunk.

you slide your finger across the screen, accepting the video call. but before you can say a single word, the sound hits you.

a rough, throaty moan cracks through the speaker.

your eyes go wide, hands immediately moving to yank your glasses off your face like it’s gonna help you see the screen better. the camera shows soonyoung sprawled out on his bed, head thrown back, lips parted as another groan slips from him. his hand is out of frame, but from the way his chest is heaving, and the sounds—god, those wet, slick sounds—you don’t have to guess what he’s doing.

“jesus christ—soonyoung?” your voice comes out sharper than you mean, but fuck. you weren’t ready for that.

his head rolls to the side, lazy and desperate at the same time. when his eyes finally focus on the screen, there’s this wild, glazed look in them. his hand comes into view for a second—just long enough for you to catch a glimpse of his cock, hard and flushed, glistening in his grip.

“fuck... you picked up,” he breathes, his voice raspy as hell, like he’s been at this for a while, just waiting for you. his lips twitch into a smirk, but it falters quickly as another moan rips from his throat.

“soonyoung, what the fuck,” you hiss, but it’s not exactly a complaint. more like disbelief. your stomach tightens, heat crawling up your neck as you watch him. you should hang up. you really should.

but then he shifts the camera, giving you a full view—his cock, slick and twitching in his hand as he strokes himself lazily, letting out those rough, needy moans that have your pulse spiking.

“i couldn’t wait,” he gasps, voice strained, like every word is taking effort. “wanted to hear you, see you… talk to me.”

you swallow, your mouth suddenly dry. there’s a part of you that wants to tell him to stop, that this is ridiculous. but fuck, the way his voice sounds, the way he’s panting, his face scrunched up in pleasure as his hand works over his cock—it's doing something to you. and you can hear it, every slick, wet sound of his hand moving, making your legs press together under the desk.

“you’re so fucking needy,” you murmur, your voice dropping without you even meaning to. “can’t you handle yourself for one night?”

he groans at that, his head falling back against the pillow, exposing his throat, and you swear you see his cock twitch harder in his hand. “i’m trying, but—shit—you just... you look so fucking good right now.” he shifts the camera again, showing you his face, his lips parted and swollen like he’s been biting them, eyes hooded as he looks at you through the screen. “please, just talk to me. say something.”

“what do you want me to say, huh?” you lean back in your chair, your hand sliding down your thigh, fingers tracing the hem of your shorts without even thinking. “you’re already making a mess of yourself.”

he whines, actually fucking whines, his hips bucking up into his hand, and the sound is so desperate it makes your breath hitch. “tell me you like it,” he pants, his voice trembling. “please... fuck, i’m close.”

your eyes flick back to the screen, watching the way his hand moves faster now, rougher, his cock slick with precum and his skin flushed deep red. you can see the tension in his muscles, his stomach tightening as he chases his release, and the sounds coming out of him—needy and broken—are doing things to you that you don’t want to admit.

“god, soonyoung...” you whisper, leaning closer to the screen, biting your lip. “you’re so fucking desperate, it’s pathetic.”

he gasps at that, his hand jerking faster, and you can hear it, can hear the way his wet cock is slipping through his fist, can see the way his chest rises and falls with each ragged breath. his eyes squeeze shut, his mouth hanging open in a silent moan.

“i’m gonna cum,” he breathes, his voice breaking, and you can tell he’s close, his hips stuttering, his hand working faster, desperate for release.

you smirk, leaning back, satisfied. “then fucking do it.”

his moan is loud, broken, as he finally cums, his body jerking and convulsing, his hand still working over his cock as ropes of cum spill over his stomach.

“continue.” the word falls from your lips like an order.

soonyoung's eyes fly open, wide and a little shocked, his chest still heaving from the orgasm. his hand freezes for a split second, cock twitching, still sensitive as fuck. “h-huh?” he stammers, almost like he didn’t hear you right.

but you don’t repeat yourself. instead, you raise an eyebrow, letting the silence hang heavy between you both, the command unmistakable. his jaw tightens, and after a heartbeat, he starts moving his hand again, groaning as the overstimulation hits him hard. his body jerks, hips shifting under his hand, the muscles in his thighs tensing.

“fuck—” he hisses through gritted teeth, eyes squeezing shut as his strokes slow, cautious, testing the limits of how much more he can take.

you tilt your head, voice dropping. “what, you’re slowing down already?” you tease, and his hand falters. “i didn’t say you could stop.”

his brows knit together, lips curling up into a tired smirk between heavy breaths. “what’re you gonna do if i stop, huh?” the words are slurred, teasing, but you know him. he’s testing you, pushing to see how far you’ll go.

you lean closer to the screen. “you won’t stop, soonyoung. not unless you want me to hang up and leave you like this.”

his eyes snap open at that, pupils blown wide, desperation flickering in them as he pumps his cock again, this time faster. his moan is desperate, and you can see the way his face twists with each stroke, and can imagine the way his hips twitch involuntarily, or how his cock leaks more precum down his fist. every sound he makes is a sweet, broken plea for you to keep going.

“press the slit,” you murmur, and soonyoung whimpers, fingers trembling as he follows your command. he presses down, hard, his entire body shuddering at the sensitivity, making him cry out. “hold it.”

“s-shit—” his voice cracks, eyes squeezing shut again as he obeys, the overstimulation causing his whole body to jerk. his cock twitches violently in his grip, his hand slick with his cum, and you can hear every squelch, every messy sound of him struggling to keep going.

“faster,” you command. soonyoung whines but obeys, hand moving rapidly over his cock now, the wet sounds obscene through the phone. his eyes are heavy-lidded, almost completely closed, and his jaw goes slack as another moan escapes him, broken and needy.

but then he catches something—a small hitch in your breath, the way your lips part, a flash of your face scrunching up on his screen. his eyes flutter open, still struggling to focus as he hears the faintest moan slip from your throat.

“are you... fuck... touching yourself too?” he asks, his voice hoarse, almost too wrecked to even form words.

you don’t answer him right away. instead, you shift in your seat, biting your lip as your fingers circle your clit faster. “keep going,” you say, voice breathy but trying to be firm. “don’t get distracted.”

he groans, his head falling back against the pillow, hand jerking his cock relentlessly now, his entire body tense and shuddering with overstimulation. “shit—feels too good,” he pants, his hips bucking up into his fist, chasing the feeling even though his cock is still so painfully sensitive.

you let out a low moan yourself, fingers working faster against your clit, your thighs trembling as the tension builds in your core. “you wanna cum again, huh?”

“yes, yes,” he breathes, eyes squeezing shut, his moans turning higher-pitched as he nears the edge again. he shows you his cock again with a combo of the view of his neck. his hand is almost a blur now, moving over his soaked cock, and he whimpers when you command, “press harder.”

his body jerks violently, his back arching off the bed as his fingers press hard against the slit of his cock, and the pained pleasure makes him nearly sob.

you bite your lip, your own pleasure bubbling up as your fingers rub tight circles around your throbbing clit. “good boy, keep going...”

soonyoung’s eyes crack open, barely focusing on the screen, but then he sees you, sees the way your face is flushed, your lips parted in a silent moan, how your eyes roll faintly, your body shifting with every touch you give yourself.

“fuck,” he whimpers, his voice breaking, body trembling from how close he is. “please, i need—” his words are cut off by another loud moan as his hand squeezes around his cock, desperate, messy, trying to hold out just a little longer for you.

your own breath is shaky now, and you can barely keep your composure. “you gonna cum again for me, baby?”

his eyes are half-closed, his moans coming faster, louder, and his body’s trembling violently “please,” he begs, and you can hear how wrecked he is, how desperate.

you smirk, your own fingers speeding up as you edge closer to your release. “then cum.”

you watch him arch off the bed, his body seizing up with the force of his second orgasm, the phone slipping from his trembling hand. the screen shifts, showing nothing but his ceiling now, but you don’t need the view to know what’s happening. the ragged, broken sounds of his moans fill your room, echoing through your phone, and it’s more than enough.

your own breath hitches as you press your fingers harder against your clit, the pressure building unbearably fast. your moans spill out louder now, barely restrained, filling the silence he leaves. your hand grips your phone tight, your face shifting to the corner of the camera view as you let the fantasy take over. you imagine him there, his fingers instead of yours, working inside of you, thrusting deep and rough the way he knows you like. the mere thought makes your thighs clench, your body trembling as the tension snaps.

you cum hard, moaning loud into the phone, your back arching slightly off the chair as your fingers work faster, circling and pressing against your clit while the rest of your hand slips lower, fingers plunging inside of you. the wet sound of your fingers plugging and unplugging from your dripping heat is unmistakable, loud enough that you’re sure he can hear every slick, messy detail through the phone. and you know he’s listening, even if he’s too fucked out to speak right now.

you’re still coming down, breath heavy and shaky, when you hear the faint shuffle of movement. soonyoung finally reaches for his phone, bringing the camera back into view, his face flushed and shiny with sweat. his eyes are half-lidded, exhausted but still hungry as he catches sight of you in the corner of the screen—your face contorted with pleasure, lips parted as you let out another soft moan, your fingers still working lazily inside yourself.

he groans at the sight, his voice hoarse. “fuck… you’re so hot like this.” his hand twitches like he wants to reach out through the screen, to touch you himself, but he’s too spent, too weak from the overstimulation to do anything but watch. “god, i wish i could feel you right now.”

you smirk, your fingers slowing but still moving inside you, just to make sure he can hear every slick, obscene sound. “you’re lucky i even let you hear me,” you tease, voice breathless.

his eyes roll back for a second, a whimper escaping him. “shit... i love when you talk like that.”

you lean closer to the screen, your clean hand running through your hair, tugging lightly to ground yourself. “i know,” you murmur, voice low, taunting. “now clean yourself up. tomorrow at my place?”

“bet.”

[flowerkidyjh]

       hoshi + wet dream(z)

— “teacher, please, don't make me stand up” hoshi thinks when he just realized he had a wet dream about you, his roomate, at class.

WARNINGS: +18, smut, inspired by ''wet dreamz'' by j.cole (just a hint of it), oral (f. & m. receiving), dry humping, cock riding, mentions of handjobs and jerk off.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

soonyoung’s dead to the world, head down, cheek smushed against his arm, that dumbass hoodie string sticking to his lips. honestly, you’re surprised he hasn’t drooled yet. professor kim’s yelling about some kid in the front row not having their project finished on time,

but soonyoung? yeah, man’s out cold. he probably crashed after staying up too late again, messing around, doing who knows what. typical. you try to take notes while glancing at him every few minutes, but then something shifts—his leg jerks under the desk, his face scrunching up like he’s in serious trouble.

and that’s when you notice his fingers flex, the furrowed eyebrows, the faintest shift of breath slipping through his lips like he’s...no, no way. your eyes narrow, and you kick the side of his foot, just to check. the dude grumbles in his sleep, biting his lip hard.

oh god, this idiot’s having a wet dream. right here. in class. you’re both gonna get expelled.

meanwhile, in soonyoung’s head? oh, it's something else. it’s you, of course. you’re wearing that tight little top, the one with the low cut that gives him a peek every time you lean over his bed to wake him up for his dance recitals. and you’re smiling at him, all innocent and sweet, but your hand is somewhere down his stomach, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of his sweats, tugging him closer, stroking his cock, making him moan your name in this barely-there voice.

and just like that, you tap him on the shoulder, your voice cutting through his dream like a slap to the face, “soonyoung, you good? you looked like you were having a nightmare or something.” trying to keep it lowkey so the whole class doesn’t start looking over. your hand's still resting on his shoulder when you see his eyes snap open, like he’s been hit with a lightning bolt.

nightmare? nah, he wishes. he blinks up at you, disoriented as hell, blinking twice to focus. the way your boobs are hanging in front of him in that low-cut shirt? shit. it’s like his dream didn’t even end. he can barely breathe, eyes glued to you as you lean in, not even noticing the way his gaze drops right to your chest.

he shifts again, pressing his thighs together under the desk, praying to whatever god is out there that professor kim doesn't make him stand up, because, fuck—he’s so hard it’s practically poking through his jeans. if he stands up right now? boner’s definitely gonna slap someone in the face. maybe the fella sitting in front of him.

he panics, trying to will it down, but nah, not when he remembers the way your tits jiggle when you run to catch the bus with him, or how you’ve always been so nice to him, helping him clean up his absolute wreck of a dorm room like you actually care. you’re so fucking nice. and hot. being sweet like that makes you even hotter.

“dude, what the hell?” you frown, and he feels guilty for all of a second, ‘cause you’re just looking out for him, being a good roommate and all, and here he is, thinking about how badly he wants to—

“uh, no—no, i’m fine,” he stammers, swallowing hard, forcing himself to look anywhere but at your cleavage. jesus, how are you real? you’re too fucking hot for your own good. “just—uh—tired, y’know?” his voice cracks, and it’s a miracle you don’t ask why he’s shifting so awkwardly in his seat, arms crossed tight like he’s hiding something.

you blink, clearly not convinced but too busy to care. “okay, well, maybe you should get some sleep tonight instead of staying up watching dumb youtube videos.”

he laughs nervously, shifting in his chair, again, trying not to let his boner ruin both of your lives. “yeah. yeah, totally.”

but honestly, he’s praying the class ends soon, ‘cause if professor kim makes him stand up, his whole life's over.

the class ends, and the signal bell’s barely even faded before soonyoung’s out of his seat. like, out. he snatches his backpack and casually—well, tries to be casual—slides it in front of him, covering the situation in his pants like his life depends on it. which, yeah, it kinda does. you watch as he bolts for the exit, practically crashing into the doorframe on his way out. you’re left blinking, a little confused.

“where tf are you going? we still have p.e,” you type, texting him quickly as you pack up your own stuff.

a few seconds later, your phone buzzes.

soonyoung: dorm.

what the fuck? you stare at the screen, baffled. you know this man loves dodgeball more than life itself—hell, he’s usually the one pelting people with those foam balls like it’s the olympics. but now? he’s bailing on p.e.?

you shoot off another text. “??? bro, dodgeball’s about to start, what’s your deal?”

his response comes in almost instantly, a little too fast.

soonyoung: not coming. sick.

right. you raise an eyebrow, but whatever. his loss. maybe he really is coming down with something, ‘cause skipping p.e. is like skipping oxygen for this guy. but, as you head down to the gym, you can’t help but wonder if something’s off. especially the way he bolted earlier.

halfway through dodgeball, it clicks—oh shit. it’s gotta be you. he’s been weird since you woke him up in class, and now, you’re running around in your sports bra and high-waisted shorts, the same ones you always wear. that might explain it. he’s probably freaking out over that damn wet dream, too embarrassed to face you.

good. let him sweat it out for a bit. serves him right for ditching.

by the time you make it back to the dorm, you’re drenched in sweat, breathing a little heavy from running around like a maniac all period. the heat from dodgeball is still clinging to your skin, and all you want is a cold shower. you toss your bag onto the couch and kick off your shoes, stretching out your arms as you step into the kitchen.

soonyoung’s there, standing awkwardly by the counter with a glass of water, his eyes flicking up to meet yours for like, a second before darting away. something’s definitely up. he’s acting weird.

“yo,” you call out, wiping a hand over your forehead, “where the hell did you go? you missed dodgeball, man. you feeling alright?”

he shrugs, not looking at you. his face is all tight, like he’s focusing way too hard on drinking his water. “yeah, just… didn’t feel like it.”

“didn’t feel like it?” you echo, narrowing your eyes at him. “you love dodgeball.”

he just grunts, and you catch him glancing at you, real quick, before his gaze shoots right back to the floor. you follow his eyes and—oh. oh. right. your sports top’s soaked through, sticking to your skin, and you can literally feel his eyes tracing every damn inch of it. it’s not like you’re trying to be a tease, but something about the way he’s avoiding you makes you want to push him a little. just to see how much more uncomfortable he can get.

“you sure you’re okay?” you ask, stepping closer, watching his ears turn red. “you’ve been acting weird since class. did something happen?”

he shakes his head so fast you think he’s about to give himself whiplash. “no, nothing happened. i’m fine.”

yeah, right. you chuckle to yourself, brushing past him toward the hallway, but not before you notice the way his eyes drop again, glued to the sweat clinging to your back, the way your skin’s gleaming in the low kitchen light.

“whatever, weirdo. i’m taking a shower.”

you leave him standing there, all fidgety and red-faced, as you disappear into the bathroom. you close the door behind you and smirk, wondering just how long he’s going to keep up this act.

you step out of the bathroom, towel slung over your shoulders, hair damp and sticking to your neck. the warmth from the shower did little to wash away the tension in your head, the lingering feeling that something was off. soonyoung hadn’t said more than three words since you got back to the dorm, and it’s weird. too weird. normally, he’s all over you, making dumb jokes, bugging you about something, throwing himself onto your bed like it’s his second home—with wet hair to freak you out. only for him now be holed up in his room, glued to his phone, avoiding you like the plague.

and for some reason, you hate it. the silence. the way he’s brushing you off. you’d rather have him drenched in rainwater, messing up your sheets like always than whatever the hell this was.

hair dripping slightly onto your t-shirt, you pad over to his room. the door’s half-open, and there he is—soonyoung, sprawled on his bed, phone in hand, scrolling like he’s actually interested in whatever’s on the screen.

you don’t say anything at first, just step into the room and sit beside him, sulking as you grab onto his arm. your fingers squeeze lightly, and you glance at him, expecting some smartass remark or at least something. but all you get is a quick look from him, eyes darting from you to the phone. nothing more. then he turns back to the screen like you’re not even there.

“seriously?” you mumble, rolling your eyes. his silence is starting to get to you now, and your frustration boils over. fuck this. you reach over and snatch the phone right out of his hand, holding it up in the air, out of his reach.

“what the hell—” soonyoung tsks, sounding more annoyed than anything. annoyed, yeah right. he sits up quickly, leaning in close as he reaches for it, but you keep it out of his grasp, grinning despite yourself.

“tsk. give it back,” he grumbles, his hand wrapping around your wrist, but you refuse to budge. his eyes flash up to yours. “seriously, y/n. stop.”

you tilt your head, eyes locking onto his, something playful and challenging bubbling up in your chest. “not until you stop being a weirdo. what’s your problem? you’ve been acting like i’ve got the plague since class.”

he tugs at your arm again, trying to reach the phone, but you just hold it higher, raising your eyebrows at him. your other hand grabs onto his shoulder to steady yourself, and you’re both so close now that you can feel his breath on your neck.

you want him to say it first. to admit whatever the hell’s been going on in his head.

“come on, soonyoung, just talk to me.” your voice softens a little, though there’s still a teasing edge to it. “you’re not really pissed, are you? what, did i embarrass you in class or something?”

he huffs, falling back against the bed again, hands covering his face in frustration. he mumbles something, but it’s too muffled to understand.

“what was that?” you press, your hand still gripping the phone. you lean in closer, hovering over him, trying to peek through his fingers.

he groans, louder this time, and lets his hands drop to his sides, staring up at the ceiling like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. “just… forget it, okay? you’re making it worse.”

“worse? worse how?” you shift, sitting cross-legged on the bed now, leaning over him with your phone still clutched in your hand. your knee brushes against his hip, and you see his jaw tighten for a second. “soonyoung, come on, talk to me. why are you acting so fucking weird?”

he lets out a long breath, rubbing his palms over his face like he’s trying to scrub the answer out of himself. his lips press together, eyes squeezing shut before he finally mutters, “i didn’t want you to see… that.”

“see what?” your voice drops lower, curious now, your hand letting the phone slip down beside you. you’re so close to him now that your hair is starting to drip on his shoulder, but neither of you moves away. you watch the muscle in his neck tense as he swallows hard, lips parting slightly.

“you,” he finally breathes out, eyes still fixed on the ceiling. his cheeks are flushed now, the embarrassment clear in every line of his body, but he doesn’t look away from the ceiling, not even once. “i—fuck, i was dreaming about you. okay? in class. and then you woke me up, and i—shit, i couldn’t stop thinking about it. about… you.”

you smirk a little, shaking your head. “so… wait, you’ve been avoiding me because of a dream?”

he groans, hands covering his face again. “it wasn’t just a dream, okay? it was—god, this is so fucking embarrassing. you were… you know.”

“no, i don’t know,” you tease, shifting your weight slightly so you’re leaning in even closer. “why don’t you tell me?”

he glances at you then.

“you were all over me,” he mutters finally, his voice low, “in this tight shirt, and you wouldn’t stop touching me. it was fucking killing me, okay? i woke up and—god, i just couldn’t look at you. i’ve never seen you like that before, and it… fuck, it messed with my head.”

you raise an eyebrow, not quite expecting that level of honesty. but something in you can’t resist pushing him a little more. “so that’s it? you were just… turned on, and now you’re too embarrassed to even be around me?”

he groans again, this time louder, pressing his hands into his eyes. “yes! fuck. yes. happy now?”

“actually?” you grin, leaning back slightly. “yeah, kinda.”

he looks at you, “you’re the worst.”

“yep.” you sit back up, holding his phone just out of reach. “but i’m also not giving you your phone back until you stop acting like i’ve got cooties or something.”

he rolls his eyes, sitting up again, this time without the fake annoyance. there’s a look on his face you can’t quite read, somewhere between embarrassment and frustration, and it makes your stomach flip. maybe there’s more to this than just a dream.

“you’re really not gonna let this go, are you?” he asks, voice softer now.

“nope,” you say, smiling. “not a chance.”

he sighs, shaking his head. “fine. just… don’t make this any weirder than it already is, okay?”

you glance down at his lips, and something inside you shifts. you tilt your head slightly, eyes locking with his as you whisper, “trust me, i won’t.”

and before he can react, you lean in, pressing your lips against his. it’s soft at first, a hesitant brush of mouths, but then you feel him melt into it, his lips parting as his breath hitches. the kiss deepens, and soon enough, you’re straddling him, your thighs pressing into his hips, and his hands—hesitant at first—grasp onto your waist, unsure but needy.

the second you feel his grip tighten, you take control. your hands snake around his neck, pulling him closer as you grind down against him, making you feel the hard length of his cock, even through the fabric of his sweats. his breath catches, a quiet groan escaping from his throat as your hips rock against his.

soonyoung’s head falls back against the pillow, eyes half-lidded as his fingers sink into your skin, he doesn’t know what to do with himself—he’s trying to keep up, but you’re driving him crazy. his hips jerk up to meet yours, but it’s too much, too fast. he’s never been this turned on from just kissing before, and it’s almost awkward how quick his body responds to you.

“slow—fuck—slow down,” he gasps, hands slipping to your hips, trying to hold you still, but you only smirk, grinding down harder.

“sensitive already?” you tease, your breath hot against his ear, your fingers trailing down his chest, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

“yeah,” he breathes, his voice shaky. “fuck—sensitive. really sensitive.”

you pause, frowning a little as you tilt your head to look at him. “why?”

he doesn’t answer right away, his hands still gripping your waist, trying to keep you from moving. he just looks at you, his eyes full of something that feels like shame, waiting for you to piece it together.

and then it hits you. oh.

“did you…?” you ask softly, your voice dropping a little as you lean in, your lips brushing against his jaw. “did you have to touch yourself after the dream?”

soonyoung swallows hard, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment before he nods, barely. “yeah,” he mutters, almost like he’s admitting some deep, dark secret. “i couldn’t… i couldn’t stop thinking about it. about you.”

for a second, you just stare at him, processing the confession. he was jerking off, thinking about you—and now here you are, straddling him, grinding against him. “shit,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him, your fingers tracing lightly over his chest. “you’ve been thinking about me like that?”

“how could i not? y/n-nie” he sulks, his hands trembling slightly as they slip under your shirt, his fingers brushing against the damp skin of your lower back.

you smirk, leaning down to kiss him again, this time slower, deeper, letting your tongue slip into his mouth as your hips rock slowly, teasing him. his hands tighten on your back, pulling you closer, but you can feel him trembling beneath you, his body so tense.

“you want me to stop?” you ask against his lips, voice low and teasing. “because i don’t think you do.”

he shakes his head, the movement jerky, his breath coming in quick gasps as you continue to grind against him. his fingers slip into your hair, damp from the shower, tugging gently as he lets out a soft, desperate sound.

“no—don’t stop.”

and that’s all you need.

you push yourself off him, just enough to slide your shorts down, tossing them aside before settling back down on his hips. the feeling of your bare skin against his sweats makes you shudder, and you see the way his eyes go wide, dark and blown out with need as you shift, grinding your bare pussy against the bulge in his pants.

soonyoung groans, his head tipping back against the pillow as his hands grip your thighs, trying to hold you steady. but you don’t give him a second to recover. you grind down hard, dragging your slick cunt over the fabric of his sweats, and he’s almost delirious from the sensation.

“fuck—fuck—y/n—”

you smirk, leaning down to kiss him again, your lips brushing against his as your hand trails down his chest, tugging at the waistband of his pants. “you’ve been thinking about this, hm?”

“yeah,” he gasps, his hips jerking up to meet yours as you slip your hand under his waistband, fingers brushing against his cock. “god, yeah.”

but you don’t give him what he wants. not yet. instead, you slide down his body, trailing kisses over his chest, his stomach, your fingers tracing the waistband of his sweats before tugging them down. you don’t even bother taking them off completely, just pulling them down enough to free his cock.

you wrap your hand around him, stroking slowly as you lean down, your breath hot against his skin. he’s sensitive—too sensitive—and he’s almost squirming under your touch, but you keep going, taking your time, watching his face as you work him up even more.

“you’re so fucking hard,” you murmur, your lips brushing against the base of his cock, and he lets out a choked sound, his hips bucking up involuntarily.

you don’t stop. you slide your hand up and down his length, your thumb brushing over the tip, slick with precum, and then you lean down, your tongue darting out to lick along the underside of his cock.

you slide down his body again, this time lowering yourself between his legs, your mouth hovering just above his cock. you can see the way his whole body trembles, his hips jerking up slightly as you take him into your mouth. you don’t rush—no, you take your time, swirling your tongue around the tip before sliding your mouth down, taking him as deep as you can.

soonyoung lets out a broken sound, his hands flying to your hair, gripping tightly as you work him over, your mouth wet and slick as you suck him off. you can feel him trembling beneath you, his whole body tense, but you don’t let up. you take him deeper, your throat tightening around him as you swallow, your tongue flicking over the tip every time you pull back.

“fuck—y/n—please—”

he’s close, you can tell.

his fingers twist in your hair, tugging just enough to pull you off him, your lips slick and spit-slicked. his chest heaves, eyes glazed, but there's something different about the way he looks at you now.

“wait, wait” he breathes out. “please.”

and before you can even think to argue, he’s moving, flipping you onto your back with a suddenness that makes your head spin. his hands are already on your thighs, parting them with this desperate, greedy energy like he’s been dying to do this. you’re still catching your breath from everything before, but the second you feel his warm breath ghosting over your core, it’s like everything sharpens again.

he's focused, his eyes locked on your pussy like it’s the only thing in the world that matters right now. his hands grip your thighs, pushing them wider apart as he leans down, his tongue darting out to lick along your slit, the slickness from how worked up you are already makes his job easy, and he groans at the taste, the sound vibrating against your skin in a way that has your toes curling.

“fuck,” he mutters, before he dives in fully. his tongue presses flat against your pussy, lapping up every bit of wetness before it circles around your clit, teasing but never giving you enough. you feel your hips buck up, seeking more friction, but his hands hold you down, keeping you exactly where he wants you.

“soonyoung,” you breathe out, your voice shaky, “fuck—don’t tease.”

he doesn’t say anything, but his mouth works faster now, tongue flicking over your clit before he sucks it into his mouth, just enough pressure to have your back arching off the bed. but it’s not just his mouth that’s driving you crazy—it’s the way his fingers slid to work at the same time, sliding up and down your inner thigh, teasing, but never quite touching where you need him most.

“shit,” you hiss, your hands finding their way into his hair, tugging hard enough to make him groan against you. “more—fuck, soonyoung—more.”

he lifts his head just enough to look up at you, his lips shiny, slick with your wetness, and the sight alone nearly makes you cum. “more?” he echoes, but he’s already slipping one finger inside you, slow and deep, crooking it just right to hit that spot.

“fuck—yes—there—” your head angles back, your fingers curling tighter in his hair, and he takes that as his cue to add a second finger, pumping them in and out slowly while his mouth goes back to your clit, his tongue swirling around it.

and then he stops, thinking, before diving in again. instead of just keeping his mouth on your clit, he presses his tongue flat against it, then flicks his wrist, his fingers twisting inside you, almost like he’s trying to find a new angle, something that’ll drive you absolutely crazy. and it does. you’re not even sure how he’s managing to do it—his mouth, his fingers, everything working in perfect sync to build that pressure deep inside you—but it’s fucking working, and you feel like you’re losing your mind.

“holy shit,” you gasp, your hips grinding up into his mouth, chasing the friction. “holy fuck, soonyoung—what are you—”

he doesn’t stop. he doesn’t fucking stop, and you feel the tension in your belly building, higher and higher, until it’s almost crazy to hold it. his mouth is relentless, his fingers curling and twisting inside you, and you can’t even form words anymore—just a mess of moans and gasps as you get closer and closer to the edge.

your orgasm punches you, crashing over you so hard that your vision goes white for a second, your body tightening and shaking as you cum undone beneath him. you feel the way his fingers slow down, coaxing you through it, while his tongue keeps flicking over your clit, softer now, gentler, but still enough to draw out every last bit of pleasure.

you’re breathless, your body limp against the mattress, but soonyoung doesn’t stop. he stays between your thighs, his fingers slowly pulling out of you, but his mouth is still there, kissing and licking you clean, like he can’t get enough of your taste.

“fuck baby,” you breathe out, your chest heaving as you try to come down from the high.

he finally looks up at you, his lips swollen and shiny, and he doesn't even wipe it out. “taste even better than i imagined.”

you let out a shaky laugh, still trying to catch your breath. “yeah? you’ve been thinking about that a lot?”

“more than you know,” he murmurs, before he leans in again, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “but now i can do the rest in peace.”

you lock eyes with him, your lips brushing against his, “not before i ride that dick.”

the way soonyoung’s eyes widen, his breath catching in his throat, almost makes you laugh. he looks like he’s about to choke on his own spit, his face flushing red as he processes what you just said. “wh-what?”

“you heard me.” you slide your hand down his chest, feeling the way his muscles twitch under your touch, “been thinking about it for a while now. riding you. sitting on it. licking it. you want that?”

he swallows hard, his tongue darting out to wet his lips—a habit of him, and you can tell his brain is short-circuiting. the way his hips shift beneath you, the way his fingers tighten their grip on your thighs, he’s already imagining it—has been imagining it.

fuck, probably for a while.

“you—y/n…” his voice is shaky, almost like he can’t believe you’re saying this out loud. “i—fuck, i thought about it—but like… i didn’t think you…”

you raise an eyebrow, leaning down so your lips are barely an inch away from his ear, your breath hot against his skin. “didn’t think i’d want it too? didn’t think i’d think about how i’d bounce on that dick? how i’d feel you filling me up, stretching me out? yeah, soonyoung, i’ve been thinking.”

he lets out this choked sound, his hand slipping from your thigh to wrap around your hip, like he’s trying to ground himself in reality. “fuck—you can’t just say shit like that…”

“why not?” you roll your hips down against his, feeling the hardness straining through his pants. “thought you liked me being honest?”

soonyoung’s eyes shut tight for a second, like he’s trying to get a grip, but you can feel the way his cock twitches under you, betraying him. and honestly, it just makes you want to push him further.

“been thinking about how it’d feel,” you whisper, your lips ghosting over his jaw. “how your cock would slide inside me, how deep you’d get if i sat on it, how fucking good you’d feel—hmm”

you smile, leaning back to look at him, loving the way his pupils are blown wide with lust, the way his chest is rising and falling so fast it’s like he’s running out of breath. you reach down to tug at the waistband of his pants.

he lifts his hips without thinking, helping you pull his pants down enough to free his cock, the sight of it making your mouth water. he’s bigger than you imagined—hard and thick, the tip already leaking.

“holy shit,” you mutter, wrapping your hand around it, giving it a slow stroke that has him hissing through his teeth. “so this is what you’ve been hiding from me, huh?”

soonyoung can barely speak, just nodding like his brain is short-circuiting all over again.

you shift your hips, lining him up with your entrance, slick and warm from how fucking wet you are already. and then, slowly, you sink down on him, taking him inch by inch, watching as his face contorts/

“oh fuck,” he groans, his head falling back against the pillows. “fuck, fuck, fuck—so tight—so fucking good—”

you can feel every inch of him, stretching you, filling you up completely, and it’s so good, delicious, you pause for a second, letting yourself adjust, your hands splayed out on his chest as you look down at him, smirking at how fucked he already looks.

“you good?” you ask, breathless, and he just nods frantically, his eyes wide and desperate as he looks up at you.

“yes, yes, yes!” he stammers, his voice cracking.

“well,” you grin, starting to rock your hips slowly, “just wait till i really start.”

he lets out a broken moan, his hands flying to your waist, but he doesn’t try to stop you—just lets you set the pace as you start riding him, just to tease him, before gradually speeding up, rolling your hips down against him in a way that has both of you gasping.

“so—hmm—so fucking perfect,” he mumbles, his fingers digging into your skin as he tries to hold on, but you can tell he’s losing it. his breathing’s all over the place, and his hips keep bucking up, trying to meet your movements, desperate for more.

nothing could’ve prepared him for this—not in his wildest, dirtiest, late-night fantasies. the way you suddenly prop yourself up on one knee, the other leg still pressed into the mattress, your whole body lifting up just slightly before you drop back down on him—it’s fucking insane.

the first time you do it, he swears he blacks out for a second. his entire world narrows down to the way you’re bouncing on his cock, the obscene wet sound of your slick every time you slam back down, and the way your tits are moving in rhythm with your body—fuck, it’s like he’s stuck in a trance.

“oh shit—shit,” he chokes out, his hands scrambling to grab onto your thighs, your waist—anything—but he can barely hold on. you’re riding him like you’ve been waiting for this moment, like you know exactly what the fuck you’re doing, and he’s just trying not to fucking implode.

the thing is—there’s no hesitation in you. no shyness, no slowing down to check if he’s handling it okay. you’re just going for it, like you knew this was going to ruin him, like you wanted to see his fucking end. your nails dig into his chest, using him as leverage as you move, your body fucking perfect, hips rolling and grinding.

“y/n you're gonna—” he can barely form a sentence, his breath coming out in ragged, desperate gasps. every time you drop down, your pussy squeezes around him, tight and hot and perfect, and it’s too fucking much. he feels like he’s teetering on the edge of something dangerous, like one more bounce and he’s done for.

“what's wrong, soonyoung?” you tease.

and fuck, he knows you're joking, knows you’re playing, but the way you say it just kills him. he lets out a strangled groan, his hips bucking up involuntarily, and you gasp as you feel the shift, your body jerking forward, hands gripping his shoulders for balance.

“ah!—” you bite your lip, eyes fluttering closed for a second, and the sound you make—that surprised moan—goes straight to his fucking brain.

soonyoung’s hands fly to your waist, his grip tightening, trying to hold you in place, trying to slow you down, because fuck, if you keep this up, he’s not gonna last—there’s no way. but it’s like you’re on a mission to break him. you grind down on him, hard and slow, then lift yourself back up only to slam back down again, your tits bouncing in a way that’s impossible for him to look away from.

“fuck," he grits out, head falling back against the pillows, his entire body going rigid as he tries to keep it together. “y/n—fuck—i can't hold it”

but you’re not listening. you’re in your own world now, riding him like it’s second nature, like this is what you’ve been waiting for all along. and fuck, he can feel how wet you are, can hear the slick sound of your pussy every time you drop back down on his cock.

“oh my god," he groans, his voice cracking as he feels you tightening around him, “you're—fuck, you're so—”

“so what?” you ask breathlessly, your lips curling into a wicked smile as you look down at him. your hands slip up to his chest, pushing him down against the mattress, your nails dragging along his skin, and he fucking shudders beneath you.

“so fucking perfect,” he finishes, his voice strained as he watches you through half-lidded eyes. he feels like he’s on fire, like every nerve in his body is screaming at him to hold on, but you’re making it fucking impossible. you’re going to fucking kill him.

you lift yourself up again, your back arching, and for a second, soonyoung thinks he might fucking pass out from how fucking good you look. your hair falls in front of your face, sticking to your skin from sweat, and your tits bounce with every movement, the low cut of your shirt leaving almost nothing to the imagination.

he watches, completely hypnotized, as you plant your feet on the mattress again, one knee still bent, the other leg propping you up—and then you jump on him again.

he chokes out, his head jerking up from the pillows as his body goes rigid beneath you. the way you’re moving now, bouncing on his cock, your ass slamming against his hips.

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants, the words barely coherent as his hips buck up into you involuntarily, chasing the heat, the tightness, the fucking heaven of your body.

but you don’t slow down. if anything, you speed up, your pace becoming almost frantic as you grind down on him, hard and fast, your nails digging into his chest as you chase your own orgasm. and fuck, he’s right there with you.

“shit, soonyoung—” you gasp, your voice cracking, “feels so fucking good—”

he umbles something incoherent making you laugh, breathless and ragged, and the sound sends a jolt straight to his cock. you whisper, leaning down to kiss him hard.

the moment you tell him to come for you, it’s like his whole body loses it. soonyoung’s grip on your hips falls, eyes roll back, head slamming against the pillow.

his whole body tenses up, the heat in his stomach bursting into flames, and the orgasm hits. he feels it rush through him, all the way down to his toes, the release so intense it almost hurts. his cock twitches deep inside you, and he’s spilling into you, his body convulsing, he can’t stop moving, his hips jerking up into you as he tries to ride out the high.

you feel him coming inside you, making your walls tighten around him, squeezing him as you throw your head back, gasping, your thighs shaking as you grind down on him.

he watches you, his eyes barely open, completely mesmerized by the sight of you cumming on top of him, your mouth open, your body trembling.

your hips move slower now, grinding down on him. you collapse on top of him, your body going limp against his chest, both of you drenched in sweat.

soonyoung let out a ragged breath, his arms wrapped around your body, his fingers tracing shy patterns on your skin. it felt like a gift after the best time of his life.

[flowerkidyjh]

It appeared on my twitter, that tiktok of the 95 line and hoshi and I swear I can't get out of my mind the way Hoshi mouthed "fuck like a p*rnstar". I feel dizzy 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

this video rents free in my mind, with that...

part 1 | part 2 (coming soon)

pornstar!hoshi who’s built a reputation as the guy who’s charming AND talented. he’s fully committed to—not just for the cameras, but because he’s having the time of his life.

pornstar!hoshi who’s playful but knows how to be professional on set. he cracks jokes while the lighting gets adjusted, his smile disarming everyone around him. “does this angle make my abs look good, or should I flex a little more?” he teases, winking at the camera crew. but the second they call action, he’s on. his expressions, his movements—it’s all so natural that you can’t help but admire him, even when you’re the one underneath him.

pornstar!hoshi who’s supposed to be acting, but the moment he’s buried inside you, all of that goes out the window. the cameras are rolling, the director is calling soft cues, but he doesn’t hear any of it. all he can focus on is you. the way your back arches, the way your lips part on a gasp that sounds so real it makes his head spin. he’s moving, sure, but it’s not for the cameras—he NEEDS to see you cumming for real.

pornstar!hoshi who treats his co-stars with the utmost respect, always checking in between takes. “you good?” he’d whisper in your ear, his hand resting lightly on your thigh as he made sure you were comfortable. “need water? a break?”

pornstar!hoshi who has this uncanny ability to make everything look so effortless. the way he moves on camera, the way he adjusts to your rhythm, the way he looks at you as if no one else is even there—even though there are six people holding boom mics and lights around you.

“fuck, y/n,” he groans during a particularly heated scene, his voice low and rough enough to make you moan louder. it’s not just for show—it’s genuine.

pornstar!hoshi who’s known for his hips—not just how he moves them, but how he controls them. he’ll start slow, teasing, just to make his partner wetter, and then speed up in a way that has you clutching at his shoulders, your mind going blank. “there it is,” he’d murmur, only you could hear it. “does it feels good huh? such a perfect pussy.”

pornstar!hoshi who isn’t afraid to improvise, pulling off moves that make directors and crew stop and whisper, “how the fuck does he do that?” he’s the guy who can make a simple grind look like art and who knows exactly how to make you arch, moan, forget that youre supposed to be acting—both on and off-camera.

pornstar!hoshi behind the scenes is somehow even more dangerous. why? he’s soft, attentive, and domestic in a way that takes you by surprise. he’ll sit beside you during breaks, sharing snacks and laughing about how awkward some angles feel.

“did you see how they wanted me to hold you earlier?” he says, mock pouting as he mimics an exaggerated pose. “i looked like a pretzel.”

“You always look like a pretzel,” you tease, stealing one of his chips.

when the other take starts, no difference, real fuck to real eyes. the makeup artist is standing off to the side, brush frozen in her hand, glances at the lighting tech, watching hoshi fully sweat, who’s wide-eyed and whispering, “uh… is this still part of the scene?”

it’s not, and everyone knows it. hoshi’s thrusts is too personal, the way his fingers circle your clit with too much enthusiasm, care even, like he’s memorized every little thing that makes you squeak or roll your hips harder against him. the room is quiet except for the wet, obscene sounds of him fucking into you and the soft, desperate noises spilling from your lips.

pornstar!hoshi who’s dizzy from the sight of you. your face is flushed, your chest rising and falling with every poor breath, and the way you gasp his name—so full of need—has him gone.

“come on, baby,” he murmurs urgently, his fingers speeding up on your clit as his cock angles just right, brushing that spot inside you that makes you roll your eyes. “you gonna cum for me? huh? let me feel it. let everyone fucking see it.”

your hand shoots out, grasping his wrist as you sob, “hoshi, I—fuck, I can’t—” but the words die on your lips, replaced by a moan so loud and needy that his hips stutter. he leans down, his forehead pressing against yours, his forehead and hair starting to get wet.

“you can,” he whispers, his voice breaking like he’s barely holding himself together. “you’re gonna. i need you to. please, y/n.” his body working overtime to bring you just to see you cumming because he needs to see it, needs to feel it.

“look at me,” he says, his voice cracking as his free hand tilts your chin up, forcing your eyes to meet his. “look at me when you cum. let me see you.”

and when you finally do, your body tightening around him, his vision blurs. “that’s it, good girl, good girl—hm—fuckkk!” he groans.

the camera focuses tightly on where pornstar!hoshi is buried inside you, each thrust making you twitch as overstimulation sets in. you’re trembling now, gasping out broken noises that makes everyone confused its pleasure or exhaustion, your body convulsing around him. his hips falter for just a second before he hisses sharply, his head tipping back, a pained frown creasing his face.

he’s cumming, pumping into you like he’s helpless against the feeling of your wet cunt wrapping his tightly. even he looks surprised, glancing down at where you’re wrapped around him like he can’t believe it. when he finally slows, he pulls out just enough for the camera to capture the cum spilling from you, thick and unreal.

the director calls for a close-up, but hoshi’s already moving, his hand brushing against your thigh in a subtle, tender caress that’s out of sight from the cameras. his thumb rubs a slow circle into your skin, grounding you as the scene comes to a close.

“cut!” the director calls out. “that’s a wrap!”

hoshi doesn’t react immediately. he leans down, his lips finding yours in a kiss that catches you off guard. his tongue slides against yours, wet and warm, moving with a craving that feels almost private.

your eyes widen for a moment, but you give in, your fingers clutching weakly at his arm. when the director announces again that the shoot is officially over, hoshi pulls back, his lips brushing yours one last time before he closes his eyes. he plants a quick peck on your lips before shifting back to help you sit up.

as you adjust yourself on the edge of the bed, his assistant rushes over with a robe, but hoshi waves them off and takes it himself. instead of covering his own body, he wraps it around you, his hands careful not to disturb you too much.

“there,” he murmurs, tying the sash loosely around your waist. “better?”

you nod, sipping on the juice box that someone from the crew had handed you, looking strangely unbothered by the fact that you’d been riding him like your life depended on it just minutes ago.

hoshi, now half-dressed, stands nearby talking to his assistant, his hand absently twirling a strand of your hair. the motion is lazy, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

you can’t quite make out what they’re discussing—something about scheduling and timing—but when his assistant walks off, you glance up at him curiously.

“what was that about?” you ask, your voice hoarse from all the moaning earlier.

hoshi smirks, running a hand through his messy hair. “nothing big. just checking my schedule.” he pauses, leaning down a little closer to you. “i heard it’s your first time in town, though.”

“yeah?” you reply, raising an eyebrow.

“yeah,” he says, his voice dropping slightly. “so… i was wondering if i could take you out. show you the town... like… on a date.”

you blink at him, caught off guard. “a date?”

“yeah,” he repeats, his grin softening into something almost shy. “off-camera. no scripts, no director yelling cut. just you and me.”

you sip your juice, feigning nonchalance even though your heart’s doing cartwheels. “i guess i could fit you into my schedule,” you tease.

hoshi chuckles, his hand brushing against your cheek before he straightens up. “good. because I wasn’t gonna take no for an answer.”

[flowerkidyjh]

driving lessons for dummies

❝ i can't parallel park, but i know all the lyrics to 'driver's license' by olivia rodrigo now. ❞

PAIRING ▸ kwon soonyoung x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ fluff, humor, smut, strangers to lovers au, college au

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, weed consumption, mc has the worst luck imaginable, soonyoung is down horrendous, there is a minor car crash, very minor description of blood, hurt/comfort, almost car sex, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), grinding, oral (fem. receiving), praise, lots of teasing, overstimulation, pet names (both sexy and unsexy), friend group shenanigans

SUMMARY ▸ you've finally passed your written test and gotten your permit after six failed attempts. eager to get your license while attempting to avoid overpriced driving lessons, you enlist the help of kwon soonyoung, who only requires a STIIZY pod as payment.

PLAYLIST ▸ new romantics by taylor swift • see you again by tyler, the creator, kali uchis 

WORD COUNT ▸ 16,834 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ this is representation for all the girlies out there who can't drive. not me but

ONE OF THE MOST COMMON STEREOTYPES PERPETUATED AGAINST WOMEN WAS THAT THEY WERE DEEMED TERRIBLE DRIVERS. 

That, or they just flat-out couldn’t drive to save their lives. 

This sexist notion dated back to when the automobile was created, when driving was physically demanding work and men insisted they handled operating the vehicles themselves. Now, though, plenty of women drove just fine, but misogyny was the only thing keeping the stereotype relevant. 

After all, the only reason why women were considered “bad drivers” was because a man decided they were.

Screw all the women who revolutionized the automobile industry, right? Despite them being highly discouraged to take on the labor required of men, it was Bertha Benz who drove the furthest in a motorized carriage than anyone else. It was Anne French who was the first woman to receive a driver’s license. It was Marget Wilcox who invented the car heater, Mary Anderson who created windshield wipers, and Hedy Lamar who designed the wireless transmission technology that made the innovation of the GPS possible.

No matter how high that glass ceiling was, even if a woman demolished and obliterated it to pieces, there would always be a man out there who would push her right back down. 

Unfortunately, you were nowhere near smashing that glass ceiling because you had failed your permit test six times. 

Yes, it was embarrassing, but you were determined to get your license. At your age, it was getting ridiculous that you had consistently failed your permit test this many times. Plus, you were getting tired of asking all of your friends for rides. You envisioned picking them up in your new car with your shiny new license, grinning smugly at the shocked looks on their faces.

“I don’t think God wants you on the road,” Wen Junhui, your best friend since middle school, said as he dropped you off at the DMV. “If you fail a seventh time, I would personally just use public transportation for the rest of my life.” 

“If a sixteen-year-old can pass it without studying, then I can pass it,” you insisted. “Plus, I read the entire manual last night.”

“Yeah, except the sixteen-year-old passed it on their first or second try, and this is your seventh.” 

“Well, seventh time’s the charm, right?” 

“Right,” he replied, doubtful. He stopped the car in front of the DMV to let you out. “Well, good luck. I’m gonna go get gas and I’ll come back for you.”

“Thanks, Jun!” you chirped. “I swear I’ll pass it this time.”

“Sure.”

“Have some faith in me, please.”

When Junhui drove away, you steeled your nerves to mentally prepare yourself—not for the test but for interacting with the DMV employees. You weren’t a fan of being verbally abused by them, especially after having them roll their eyes at you the last six times you had to tell them you failed. 

But today would be different. 

Thankfully, the DMV wasn’t too busy today. You only had to wait twenty minutes until they called your number. After handing them the proper paperwork, you were directed to the computers to take the permit test. 

Since you were an adult, you only needed to get 30 questions correct out of 36. You had learned your lesson by now, so you actually studied the handbook this time. It took a while to admit to yourself that you weren’t blessed with common sense. 

First question. Wrong. 

Second question. Wrong. 

Third question. Wrong. 

What was happening?

By the time you had gotten five questions wrong in a row, your hands were shaking. The pressure started to set back in, and you were terrified about failing this exam a seventh time. Junhui would be so disappointed if you told him you failed again. 

You felt the back of your shirt cling to your skin once the sixth question was incorrect. This was ridiculous; you had studied, but these questions were strangely specific. It was like someone at the DMV had it out for you. 

Maybe Junhui was right. Maybe God didn’t want you on the road. 

You felt like your brain had entered auto-pilot to protect yourself from the discouraging loss of your permit yet again. You clicked through the rest of the questions mindlessly, hardly thinking about anything until— 

You passed! 

The white screen flashed in your face for about a minute before you could register it properly. All you could do was blink and stare until you pinched your wrist to make sure you weren’t seeing things. 

Had you really gotten the rest of the 30 questions right after your consecutive failed attempts? You were so worked up over the six you missed that the rest felt like a blur. Maybe the problem was that you had been overthinking the test this entire time. 

“I did it,” you breathed out to the woman at the counter, still in disbelief. “I passed.” 

“Congratulations,” she replied with little enthusiasm. She turned to grab papers from her printer, stapled them together, and handed you your brand new permit. “Have a nice day now.” 

“Thank you so much,” you replied, slightly distracted as you inspected your learner’s permit with wide eyes.

You had been waiting for this day for so long, and here you were, holding the permit you had spent years trying to obtain. You could only imagine how thrilled your parents and friends would be once they found out. 

Speaking of friends, when you checked your phone, you saw that Junhui had texted you five minutes ago that he was parked outside. He probably expected you to walk out with a gloomy expression and slumped shoulders, but you had a skip in your step this time. You finally had good news for your best friend. 

“Jun!” you yelled before you even opened the door to the passenger’s seat. “Jun, Jun, Jun, Jun!”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” he said sympathetically, but something about his automatic response definitely felt practiced, “you’ll get it next time.”

“No, Jun, I passed!”

His eyes went wide. “You did?!” 

“I did!” You squealed and practically jumped into the seat. Sinking back, a wide grin stretched across your face. “I finally did it.” 

“Yo, congrats.” Junhui grinned. “I guess the seventh time really is the charm, huh?” He started his car to pull out of the parking lot. “Well, now you just have to pass the driving test.” 

Your face fell.

You had been thinking about the permit test for so long that you forgot there was an actual driving component, too. 

First of all, you had never driven a vehicle in your life, not even illegally with friends. Second of all, you had terrible depth perception, which was probably not a great flaw to have if you wanted to drive. Thirdly, everything you prepared for the permit test had completely ejected from your brain. Your road sense was back to utterly clueless. 

“I’m gonna fail,” you said, defeated. “Jesus Christ, Jun, I didn’t even think about the actual driving test!”

“Relax, driving’s easy once you get the hang of it,” he replied. “What you should really be worrying about is how expensive those lessons are.” 

“How much are they?” 

“Uh, like, close to a few hundred.” 

“Total?” 

“No, per lesson.” 

“Per lesson?!” you cried. “Just for someone to tell me where to turn and brake? I can’t afford that!” 

“I’m guessing most of it is because they’re willingly sitting in a car with someone who doesn’t know shit about driving,” he explained, “but, yeah, it’s a crazy price. You do need to get that license before your permit expires, though, and you should probably get it done while you’re still here for college so you don’t run over the elementary schoolers back home.” 

You buried your face in your hands and let out a loud groan. “How am I gonna dish out hundreds of dollars? I don’t have that kind of money to spend when I have rent to pay off.” 

The corner of Junhui’s mouth lifted, more so exasperated than amused when he said, “I think I might know a guy.” 

Kwon Soonyoung. 

Junhui sent you his number after he dropped you off at your apartment. Apparently, Soonyoung was one of his good friends who also happened to have a side gig where he gave out driving lessons at a discounted price. Of course, the downside was that Soonyoung wasn’t exactly certified to teach people how to drive, but he was allegedly a good driver.

His lessons were normally for high schoolers, and he charged their parents around a hundred. For adults over the age of 21, though, he had a special offer that you couldn’t resist. 

You texted him to ask if he had any open spots for you. He took a few days to reply, but you eventually got a two-hour slot for the next week. You weren’t sure how effective his lessons would be, but you figured you would give it a shot since he was your age and giving out classes for cheap. 

When the day of your lessons rolled around, you were slightly anxious while you were waiting for him to arrive. You needed Junhui to reassure you for hours last night, promising that no, Soonyoung was not going to kidnap and murder you. He was a student at your university, actually, and he was a public health major who never had a murderous thought in his life.

soonyoung (driving instructor): i’m outside your house 

Okay, if he wasn’t a murderer, then the least he could do was not text you like one.  

After replying with an omw that autocorrected to On my way! and left you feeling very distressed that your communication sounded overly-enthusiastic, you worked up the courage to walk outside to his Honda Accord. 

“Hi,” you greeted shyly when you opened the door. “You’re Soonyoung, right?” 

Honestly, you didn’t care if he was Soonyoung or not. The man sitting in the driver’s seat was probably one of the most attractive people you had ever laid eyes on. Even if he wasn’t Kwon Soonyoung, you would happily let him kidnap you. Maybe you’d even blush a little because he picked you of all people to kidnap. 

He turned to look at you, seeming a little surprised that you opened the door but smiling nevertheless. “Yeah, that’s me. You’re Y/N?” 

When you nodded, he got out of the driver’s seat and motioned for you to take it. You skirted around the car to sit inside while Soonyoung took the passenger’s seat. 

You also got a glance of his off-brand, beige Fear of God Essentials sweater that read M.I.L.F. Hunter instead. Classy. 

“So, you came to me because you didn’t wanna give up your semester’s worth of college tuition for driving lessons,” Soonyoung said with an overwhelming air of confidence. 

“Yeah, pretty much.” You huffed. “Here, I heard this was your payment.”

You handed him a paper bag, not bothering to take out the receipt from the dispensary. Inside was the King Louis XIII STIIZY pod. One gram. 

“Ah, good. You know your stuff.” 

Soonyoung hummed as he examined the box, and you were just wondering when he would get to business and start showing you the controls in his car. You were slightly overwhelmed by his impressively relaxed demeanor. Maybe it would have been better if you settled for an uptight woman in her sixties. Pretty boys were always trouble. 

“You made the right choice coming to me. I’m a much better driver than those hags from the driving schools around here,” he continued. It was like he could read your mind; it was almost terrifying. “Plus, way less likely that I’ll get a heart attack in the passenger’s seat.” 

He was a total weirdo, but he was hot, so you supposed it canceled out in some obscure, mathematical sense. 

“That’s… good to hear, I think,” you replied. “So, are you, like, good at this?”

“Are you kidding? I’m basically the Lebron of driving.”

“I see.” You nodded along, unsure. “I don’t watch football, so…” 

“He plays basketball, but close enough.”

After spending about thirty minutes explaining all of the controls—from hand signals, to the dashboard, to the indicator—Soonyoung decided it was time for you to start driving on your own. You didn’t expect to move this quickly; actually, you didn’t think you’d even start driving until your second lesson. Thankfully, you gathered most of what Soonyoung had taught you, so you mustered up the courage to press your foot on the brakes and move the gear shift into drive. 

You looked over at Soonyoung expectantly, waiting for him to give you the green light to start driving. The boy only raised a brow at you, wondering why you hadn’t started driving yet. 

“Today would be nice,” he remarked.

“Uh, should I start now?”

“Sorry, I don’t have a starting pistol for you or anything.” He made a finger gun with his hand and pretended to fire. “On your mark, get set—”

“Okay, going,” you replied quickly, flushing with embarrassment. You pressed down on the accelerator and gasped as the car lurched forward. “Sorry!”

“Slowly!” Soonyoung cried out, holding onto the ‘oh shit’ handle, which you found highly unnecessary and felt somewhat offended about. “Press down slowly—gentle.”

The next hour of your lessons was a learning curve, to say the least. In your defense, it was your very first time driving, so you didn’t know you were actually supposed to look behind you before you switched lanes. Although Soonyoung kept reminding you, his instructions kept slipping your mind because you were focusing on several things at once. 

You sucked.

You were probably honked at around eight times and flipped off twice. It was a humbling experience, really. There was only so much a DMV victim could take, so you eventually had to pull over and try not to cry while Soonyoung consoled you. 

“C’mon, you probably didn’t even do anything wrong. It’s just their road rage,” he said, trying to duck his head to get a better look at you while you had your hands covering your face. “Plus, all those assholes were driving way over the speed limit. You were the responsible one back there.”

You sniffled, sucking in a shuddering breath before you gathered your composure. It wasn’t like you to be so vulnerable in front of a stranger like this, but it was probably the nerves of your first time driving coupled with the nerves of driving (and potentially damaging) someone else’s car. 

“You’re right.” You wiped at your damp cheek. “Fuck them. They couldn’t pass a driving test if they tried.”

“Well, technically, they already have.” 

“Not helping.”

He smirked. “Are you good to keep driving? Or do you wanna wrap this session up for today?” 

“Let’s keep going.” You set the car in drive again, but you looked over at Soonyoung before you did anything else. “Thanks, by the way. I’m guessing most of your students don’t usually pull over to cry during their lesson.” 

He shrugged. “Wouldn’t say it’s happened before, but it’s not a bad thing.”

It was a good thing that you were able to hide your blush from Soonyoung. With the clearly embarrassing impression you were making on him, it would have been mortifying if he found out that he was also making you flustered. 

For the next thirty minutes, you slowly started to get more comfortable behind the wheel. Soonyoung was thankfully not overbearing as most instructors normally were, so you didn’t end up flinching every time he spoke. 

He made light conversation to make you feel at ease, which you appreciated greatly. At first, you just nodded or hummed in response, as you were too afraid to do anything but stare at the road ahead, but you eventually steeled your nerves and replied with actual words. Soonyoung was a natural conversationalist, so you didn’t have to worry about your awkward pauses or stumbling over your words. He led the conversation, sharing random tidbits of his life that you wouldn’t expect to hear from someone the first time you met them. 

Everything seemed to be going perfectly normal until Soonyoung started queuing songs to play. 

The problem wasn’t the music. The problem was that Soonyoung had stopped teaching you to drive, allowing you to fend for your life while he sat back and relaxed. You weren’t sure if normal people were able to loosen up so easily while being driven by a complete amateur. 

Soonyoung must’ve been from a different planet, you decided. Some planet out there that deemed him the Lebron of driving. 

“Uh,” you started, “aren’t you gonna tell me where to go?” 

Soonyoung opened his mouth, as if he was going to ask what you meant, but then his demeanor completely shifted. 

“Pull over to the curb,” he instructed, “now.”

“What?” Your pulse raced, and you were scared that you had fucked up somehow. You checked your mirrors to make sure you hadn’t cut anyone off or anything, but there was no one behind you. Swallowing thickly, you pulled over to the curb as best as you could and parked the car, shooting your driving instructor a nervous glance. “Did I do something wr—”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Soonyoung whispered, silencing you with a wave of his hand. “This is the best part.”

Your jaw clenched as Olivia Rodrigo’s vocals were drowned out by Soonyoung’s off-key singing. This was why he wanted you to pull over? 

“I knew we weren’t perfect but I’ve never felt this way for no one!” he belted out. “C’mon, sing with me—oh, and I just can’t imagine how you could be so okay now that I’m gone!”

You folded your arms across your chest. With a reluctant sigh, you gave in and started singing along with Soonyoung. 

You weren’t exactly ready for your driving test, but after two more lessons with Soonyoung, you felt more confident about being on the road. Sure, you almost ran over a pedestrian once and drove on the wrong side of the road the other day, but at least you were capable of handling a vehicle mostly by yourself. 

There were times where you wondered if your driving lessons would be more productive with a proper instructor, not Soonyoung. He surely knew how to drive (save for when he went over the speed limit and only slowed down when he saw a cop car), but he was more focused on messing around instead of actually teaching you. You were pretty sure that he saved his proper instruction for high school students with parents, and you were just someone he liked to mess around with. 

That didn’t stop you from scheduling another lesson with him, though. It was going to be another trip to the dispensary for you.

“How’re the driving lessons going?” Junhui asked, still nose-deep in his anatomy textbook. 

The two of you were preparing for your upcoming midterms in a study room, but all you could think about was the little notification on your phone screen telling you that Soonyoung requested to follow you on Instagram. How long were you supposed to wait until you accepted his request? Would it be weird if you followed him back right away?

“I can’t parallel park, but I know all the lyrics to ‘Driver’s License’ by Olivia Rodrigo now,” you answered. “I’ve also been honked at thirteen times.”

You counted. Mostly because each honk kept you up at night, staring up at your popcorn ceiling, wondering why everyone (a driver who probably didn’t even remember your face) hated you. 

“Ah,” Junhui mused, smiling a little to himself, “so it’s going well.” 

“I wouldn’t say that,” you mumbled. “But he’s nice. He doesn’t make me feel like crying. I think my dad would make me cry.”

Your phone buzzed while Junhui started going off on a tangent about how your dad was, indeed, a scary man. (There was an incident during parent’s weekend in freshman year where your father walked into your dorm room to see Junhui sitting on your bed. Completely misunderstanding the situation, your poor friend got lectured for almost an hour.) Soonyoung’s contact name flashed across your screen, and you were itching to read his text. 

Once you and Junhui settled back into studying, you turned on your phone to check your messages.

soonyoung (driving instructor): i see you in the first floor study room soonyoung (driving instructor): come to the second floor study room for a good time

Terrifying. But you were intrigued. 

After excusing yourself for a moment, making some lame excuse about needing to use the bathroom, you slipped out of your study room to head upstairs. You realized you had never actually seen Soonyoung on campus before, so a strange feeling of excitement consumed you, making your body feel light and your chest feel giddy. 

Outside one of the study rooms, you heard echoes of laughter and conversation, which made you feel instantly nervous. You were invited, though, so you steeled your nerves and opened the door cautiously. 

“Hi,” you greeted quietly, glancing over at the three strangers before your eyes landed on Soonyoung, who grinned once he saw you. 

The four of them weren’t exactly studying. Two of them were fiddling with the flatscreen fixed to the wall, trying to connect a Nintendo Switch to it; one of them was sliding joy-cons into controllers; and Soonyoung, who had his legs kicked up on the table previously, was standing up to walk over to you. 

“You came!” His tone made it seem like he was doubtful that you’d actually show up, so you were glad to prove him wrong. “Oh, yeah, this is Seungcheol and Mingyu”—he gestured toward the two who were setting up the TV, and then he pointed at the guy with the joy-cons—“and this is Seungkwan.”

“Hey,” the three of them chorused in broken unison. 

“Wanna play Smash Bros with us?” Soonyoung asked. “Perchance.”

“You can’t just say ‘perchance,’ dude,” one of the guys setting up the TV said. 

“I think it’s applicable, Mingyu,” the other guy said, whom you now deduced was Seungcheol. “Conceivably.”

“There’s no reason for either of you to use the words ‘perchance’ or ‘conceivably’ at all,” Seungkwan chimed in. 

“Ignore them,” Soonyoung said, holding the door open wider for you before you even gave him an answer. “They’re just idiots.” 

“You’re the biggest idiot here!” Seungcheol protested. He turned to you and explained, “He’s, like, the final boss idiot.” 

Mingyu snickered. “Final idiot.”

You found yourself giggling a little, distracted by their banter as you walked inside the room and sat down in one of the empty chairs. Soonyoung slid into the one next to you, even though he was sitting next to Seungkwan earlier. You were glad that none of his friends made you feel like your presence was strange or unwelcome, but you still couldn’t help but feel awkward. 

While Soonyoung was asking Seungcheol if he had finished connecting his Switch to the TV, you pulled out your phone to text Junhui. 

y/n: i’m playing smash bros??? with soonyoung on the second floor y/n: wanna join?

jun: my anatomy midterm is in 3 days, 2 hours, and 26 minutes and all i know rn is that tissues are to wipe my tears after i fail this exam, negative feedback is all im getting back from my professor, and brain cells r what im deficient in  

y/n: ok damn i’ll take that as a no

jun: i’ll be in here for the next 3 days whenever u decide to come back 

y/n: it’ll take an hour tops y/n: pls don’t camp here for 3 whole days 

“Jun’s not coming,” you announced. 

You heard a chorus of groans. 

Great. They were all Wen Junhui fanboys. 

After Mingyu and Seungcheol finished setting up the Nintendo Switch, you watched Soonyoung and Seungkwan play the first match. Seungkwan chose Villager (which was sort of fitting for him, actually) and Soonyoung chose Donkey Kong. You honestly had no idea how Smash Bros worked, so you were completely lost while you watched their characters fly around and knock each other off the platform. 

Soonyoung was screaming at one point, threatening Seungkwan with several promises to knock him out, which never happened. Seungkwan, taking a calmer approach, focused on using several commands while Soonyoung was already jumping out of his chair and on the floor. Mingyu and Seungcheol were on the sidelines, yelling out strategies for them at random and laughing occasionally. 

The match ended with Seungkwan being victorious. Soonyoung had gotten so riled up during the game, but he took his defeat like a champ, congratulating his friend and laughing off his loss. 

You were just amused at how quickly he switched up. 

“You want a turn?” Soonyoung asked you, handing you his controller. 

You hesitated. “Uh, I’m not really good at these kinds of games.”

“I’ll help you.”

You were up against Mingyu. He was a formidable opponent at first glance, but you hoped he wasn’t as competitive as the others. Maybe he would show you mercy because it was your first time playing. 

You held the controller with stiffly-bent arms, holding it up like you were reading a map. Soonyoung didn’t laugh at you, to your relief, but he gently pushed your hands down and showed you what all of the controls were. 

You chose the pink blob named Kirby. You weren’t a gamer by any means, so you had no idea what purpose the pink blob served other than being cute. No one judged you for your selection, though, which you assumed was a good sign. 

“Don’t go easy on me,” you mumbled to Mingyu, who grinned in response. 

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

Your heart raced when the countdown started. It felt like the longest three seconds of your life, and you were starting to regret choosing Kirby, who looked harmless in comparison to Mingyu’s character: Samus. You kept telling yourself that it was okay if you lost; you knew how to handle failure since you were pretty bad at virtually everything. 

Soonyoung was cheering for your victory as soon as the match started. He was an absolute angel for doing so, but you were afraid you were going to disappoint him. 

In Mingyu’s defense, you did tell him not to go easy on you. Unfortunately, the guy really wasn’t holding back at all. In the blink of an eye, you were already astral projecting off the screen. 

“Oh,” was all you could say. 

Maybe you should have swallowed down your pride and asked Mingyu to go easy on you.

Seungcheol playfully punched his friend’s shoulder. “C’mon, dude, it’s her first time.”

“Yeah, why’re you being a dick?” Seungkwan joined in, seeming more excited over having an excuse to target Mingyu than to actually defend you.

“She told me not to go easy on her!” he exclaimed, but no one allowed the poor boy to stand up for himself. With a pout, he turned to you and said, “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize.” You laughed. “I’m just bad at this.”

“Here, I’ll help you for the next round.” Soonyoung scooted closer to you until his knee brushed against yours. You couldn’t help but feel a little hot all of a sudden, but you made no effort to move away. 

The next round started with you dropping from the revival platform. You felt like your brain went into autopilot. You just heard Soonyoung talking in your ear while his fingers kept brushing against yours, telling you which controls were best for fighting Samus. Everything was going in one ear and out the other; you were so flustered that you could hardly think straight. 

You snapped back into reality when you heard three of them screaming, and you looked over with wide eyes to see Mingyu looking shell-shocked himself. 

You won. 

Soonyoung smiled. “See? You’re a natural.”

“No, it was all you,” you replied, shaking your head. It really was all thanks to Soonyoung because you had no idea what the hell you did. “It was probably just beginner’s luck.”

But, even so, a smile tugged at your lips, and you felt elated from your triumph. You thought back to Soonyoung’s hands brushing against yours, nearly swamping yours in comparison, and your chest felt a little warm. 

A little too warm. 

You put a pause on driving for a week and a half, informing Soonyoung that you had to focus on midterms before you could think about your driving lessons. Both caused you extreme distress, so you needed to cut one out temporarily.

Junhui really did camp out in the library for three entire days. You brought him food every day and forced him to go back to his apartment to take a shower. When you watched over his study room for him, Soonyoung would swing by and ask how you were doing. 

Brief interactions, but they were nice. 

You managed to get through your midterms without a single cry session in a bathroom stall. It was honestly a bigger success than your first Smash Bros win. 

Soonyoung and you grew a little closer. Two weeks ago, if someone told you that you would be FaceTiming your driving instructor every night before bed, you wouldn’t believe them for a second. Mostly because you assumed you would get a driving instructor who was pushing retirement age, and video calling someone that old at night sounded a little concerning and borderline adulterous.

You learned a lot about him. His go-to breakfast or midnight snack was Frosted Flakes, and he felt a little empty inside if there wasn’t a box of the cereal in his cabinet. He was loud most of the time, but he often got shy or quiet in loud settings; it was highly dependent on the crowd he was with. His love language was sending you pictures of cute animals and saying it was you two. (You also didn’t like calling this a “love language” because that implied there was something deeper than platonic feelings, which you were too afraid to come to terms with.)

“You have to start driving again now that your midterms are over,” Soonyoung said over the phone one night. He was sulking while you were doing your skincare routine, keeping your phone propped up on your desk. “You’re gonna start forgetting what you learned, and then we’re gonna be back to square one.”

He was (slightly) high tonight and you were the first person he called.

You were pretty sure that had to mean something. Unfortunately, you were too guarded to connect the pieces that were laid out perfectly for you.

“You just miss me, huh?” you joked. 

“Yeah, I guess I do.”

Nothing could have prepared you for that response. 

You felt your cheeks burn, and you had to physically turn around to hide whatever expression was betraying you. You pretended to examine something behind you, but there was clearly nothing there, so you just looked like an idiot. 

You didn’t know what you were feeling. There was a clear difference in your emotions when you spoke to Soonyoung versus when you spoke to his friends. 

You didn’t want to compare Soonyoung to Junhui, who you knew since middle school, but you knew that you didn’t feel anything funny in your chest when you interacted with Seungcheol, Seungkwan, or Mingyu. They were great to be around, of course, but it was only Soonyoung who made you walk with a little skip in your step.

You hadn’t had a proper crush in years. Now, you felt like you were overthinking everything and analyzing every little interaction that could possibly be meaningless. 

It had only been a few weeks, but you supposed there was no exact timeline for these sorts of things—whatever this thing was. 

Whatever it was, though, you were in danger.

“Tomorrow, then,” you said once you regained a sliver of your composure. “Pick me up after your classes.”

“Sure.” He rested his chin in his palm, staring at you with an amused expression. “I’ll bring flowers.”

Possible Ways To Respond: 1. “You’re too sweet! Thank you.” 2. “Flowers? What’s the occasion?” 3. “Wow, you really know how to make a girl feel special, huh?” 

You went with a secret fourth option.

“Please don’t. I’m allergic.”

True to his word, Soonyoung picked you up after his classes the next day. 

You were pretty sure your lessons had gone over the regular quota, so you stopped by at the dispensary earlier to pick up another pod for Soonyoung. He didn’t look as though he was expecting anything when you got in the driver’s seat, though. In fact, he was perplexed when you handed him the paper bag. 

“What’s this?” he asked, growing sheepish. 

“Your payment,” you replied. “Also, I sort of lied about being allergic to flowers. I’m not allergic to flowers. I don’t know why I said that. I’m allergic to penicillin, though, but I don’t think that sounds remotely close to ‘flowers.’ Maybe I got confused? I don’t know.”

If this was an otome game, you had surely picked the bad relationship ending. Soonyoung’s face fell a little—just enough for you to notice—and you immediately felt guilt swallowing you whole. You meant for your words to sound lighthearted, but maybe they didn’t come across that way. 

But, at the same time, you didn’t know where you stood. Wouldn’t it have been unfair to not repay Soonyoung for the lessons? Was it unreasonable that you weren’t actually expecting him to bring you flowers for no reason?

Soonyoung recovered quickly, though, his smiling eyes crinkling at the corners. “So I can bring you flowers.”

“Hypothetically, you could.”

“But you don’t have to pay me anymore.” He looked into the paper bag, examining the STIIZY pod before scoffing. “If I keep stocking up on these, people are gonna think I’m a stoner.” 

“Well, I have to pay you for the lessons somehow,” you said. “So, if you don’t want the pods anymore, then I’ll have to start sending you money. I mean, what about gas?”

“You don’t have to worry about my gas tank.” He chuckled at your words and sat back to get comfortable. “What you should worry about is not hitting the curb.”

You flushed hotly. “Right.”

The first hour went smoothly. Soonyoung was impressed that you were gradually getting more and more comfortable behind the wheel, and he even congratulated you for changing lanes without muttering prayers under your breath. You were beginning to feel less overwhelmed with everything you were supposed to focus on, and you were certain that you were so close to everything clicking at once. 

That was, until a car crashed right into you on a local road. 

Thankfully, you and the other driver weren’t going too fast, but the force was sure to leave a dent in Soonyoung’s car. The collision wasn’t hard, by any means, but the impact jerked your body forward so that your mouth hit the steering wheel. The sting of pain radiated throughout your gums seconds later, and you winced and cradled your jaw. 

You immediately bubbled with rage as you pulled over to the curb, knowing that you had the right of way and he was supposed to stop and wait for you to pass, but you were still stiff with shock. Soonyoung’s eyes were fierce, looking back at the driver as if he was about to cuss him out, but then he turned his attention to you.

Before you could feel immense, crushing guilt over crashing Soonyoung’s car, you whipped your head around to make sure he wasn’t hurt. You wouldn’t be surprised if he completely ghosted you after this. You were probably the worst student he had ever come across, which was saying a lot considering most of his students were high school teenagers. 

“Y/N, are you okay? Are you hurt?” he asked, sounding as frantic as his hands were. You felt his palm against your cheek and his other hand atop your head, making sure you weren’t hurt anywhere. 

“Are you okay?” you blurted out. Your breathing was erratic, and you hardly registered the metallic taste of blood in your mouth. “Oh god. Your car. Oh god, I—” 

“It’s okay, Y/N, it’s not your fault,” he said. “You had the right of—” 

When he turned to look at you again, he just stared, eyes wide and jaw hanging open—almost comically. It almost looked like he was more bewildered by you than the fact that his car was rammed into by another car. 

He was wordless for far too long that you had to ask, “Everything okay?” 

Maybe that was a stupid question. Clearly, everything wasn’t okay, and it had everything to do with the fact that you two had gotten into a car crash.

“I think you loth a tooth,” he lisped—a seemingly joking remark, but his expression was dead serious.

For a split second, a laugh bubbled up in your mouth. You thought Soonyoung must have been messing with you, but it was ridiculous that he could joke around in such a situation. It was when you touched your lip and pulled your hand back to see blood, though, that cold reality washed over you.

Your eyes went wide as saucers as you turned to examine your teeth in the rear-view mirror. 

The worst possible thing that could happen to a woman was happening to you right now. 

Your front left tooth was gone. 

“I-it’s not that bad,” Soonyoung tried, although he sounded unconvinced himself. “It’s cute! It’s like, uh, that dragon—from, uh… How to Train Your Dragon.” 

Your eyes were burning and your throat was closing up, but tonguing the bloodied gap between your teeth sent you over the edge. You had tears streaming down your cheeks and you were gripping the wheel so hard that your knuckles turned pale.

“Toothleth?” you cried, which led to a few choked sobs when you realized that you had a lisp now. Then, you were full-on crying into your hands because sure, you could get over being the reason why Soonyoung’s car had a dent in it, but you were pretty sure there was no replacing a missing tooth. The more you cried, though, the worse you felt as you tasted the blood and heard the faint whistles coming from the gap in your teeth. “I’m tho thupid!” 

Soonyoung was clearly short-circuiting, but you could tell he was desperate to calm you down by the way he was rubbing your back in soothing circles. “Y/N, you’re not stupid. It's okay, we just—”

“Thoonyoung!”

Soonyoung slapped his hand over his mouth to suppress his laughter. He was trying to take you seriously, but the little bursts of laughter that bubbled up in his throat were betraying him. 

You swallowed down your sob and continued, “Ith not okay! I loth my tooth!” 

“Okay, no more talking,” he ordered. “I know you’re very hurt right now, but you’re gonna feel even worse if I start laughing at your lisp, so don’t make this harder for me.” 

You scowled at him, but you kept your mouth shut because Soonyoung was right; you were not in the proper headspace to be laughed at right now. 

“Okay, I’m gonna go outside and talk to the driver who ran into us,” he explained slowly. “I want you to calm your breathing and find your missing tooth. We can drive to the dentist right after, okay?” 

You sniffled and nodded, craning your neck to watch Soonyoung get out of the car to talk to the driver. Then, you sucked in a sharp breath and examined the floor to find your loose tooth. Lo and behold, it was laying next to the gas pedal. You cringed as you picked it up, frowning at how bloody it was in your palm. There were a few napkins in Soonyoung’s glove compartment, so you wrapped your tooth in one and kept it in your pocket.

You heard some yelling from the other driver—something about having kids in the back and how you were going way too fast—and it all just made you feel worse. You felt horrible that Soonyoung had to deal with the repercussions, and after they exchanged insurances and the guy drove off, you got out of the car to see the damage. 

Surely enough, there was a decent-sized dent in the side of his car. It was right where the back door opened, and you burst into tears at the sight of it. Soonyoung wouldn’t have to deal with all of this if he wasn’t teaching you to drive.  

Still, he wrapped his arms around your shaking body and pulled you in close. He rested his chin on top of your head and sighed. 

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “The insurance will cover the damage. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

“What about my tooth?”

“Okay, maybe there’s one thing to worry about.”

You leaned into his touch when you felt his hand carding through your hair. His motions were slow and gentle, as if he was trying hard to make sure you didn’t notice the gesture. You did, though, and you appreciated it. 

You started, “I’m—”

“Don’t say you’re sorry,” he interrupted. You thought he was going to say something cheesy about how you had nothing to apologize for, but he continued, “You’re gonna say thorry, and I’m not gonna be able to take you seriously.”

With your face buried in his chest, you reached your hand out to punch his shoulder. 

Still, despite his snarky comment and the emotional distress you were experiencing over your missing tooth, a big smile crossed your face and his embrace left a warm, fluttery feeling in your stomach. 

Your heart was beating so fast that you almost thought it would stop. 

“Ew,” was Wen Junhui’s first reaction upon seeing your swollen lip. You could only see the top half of his face over FaceTime, but you were sure he had a look of disgust on. “You look terrible.”

“Thanks,” you replied dryly, holding an ice pack to your cheek. 

Before Soonyoung drove you to a dentist, he scolded you for leaving your tooth wrapped up in a tissue. Apparently, your tooth was going to be fucked if it dried up, so his solution was to leave it in his half-empty water bottle that was left sitting in his car. You weren’t quite sure about this, but the dentist informed you that Soonyoung saved your front tooth. 

If he was with you in the room, you probably could’ve kissed him then and there—bloody mouth and all.

Thankfully, since you didn’t fracture or break any part of the tooth, the dentists were able to replant it into your gums without any complications. They told you it was a good thing you went straight to the dentist instead of waiting. Your front tooth would’ve been a lost cause if you waited another hour. 

It was really all thanks to Soonyoung. 

The procedure was quick and you were told that your avulsed tooth would be back to normal in about a week. The news filled you with relief because you were so sure you were going to be toothless for the rest of your life. 

Not that it was a bad thing. While Soonyoung was driving you to the dentist prior to the replantation, you had come to terms with the fact that you would be missing a front tooth for the rest of your life. You would grow old and tell your children the harrowing tale of how you got your driver’s license and sacrificed your front tooth for it. 

It couldn’t be all that horrible. Maybe you would grow an affinity for whistling.

Thankfully, that was all just your overthinking and your tooth was probably fine now. In seven days, everything was supposed to go back to normal, so you had your fingers crossed for a full recovery. 

“Of course that would happen to you.” Junhui laughed at your misery. “Shit like this only happens to you.”

“Yeah, I get it. I’m the pinnacle of terrible luck.”

“So, what happened after? Did you make out with Soonyoung or something?” 

“No!” you exclaimed. Your cheeks started to burn just at the thought. “How do you expect me to make out with someone when I look like this? Soonyoung drove me home like a gentleman. He’s not into me like that.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes. “I don’t think I’ll be seeing him for a while, anyway. I don’t wanna start driving again until my tooth is fine.”

“Then maybe you can go on a different kind of ride with him instead.”

“You need to stop.”

You didn’t see Soonyoung much over the next week. He told you that he had a few papers to finish before his schedule would clear up, so you were only able to text him occasionally and see him in passing, exchanging a greeting before one of you had to go. 

You saw his friends a lot, though. They were always in the study room next to the one you and Junhui liked to use, so you would stop by their room often to see what they were up to. They were usually either messing around or using the whiteboard for everything but its intended purpose, so you enjoyed taking study breaks with them. Junhui was the type to not take breaks because he was locked in on his work once he got in the zone, so Soonyoung’s friends were a breath of fresh air. 

Your Current Opinions on Soonyoung’s Friends:

Mingyu: Kind. Approached you whenever he saw you. Pleasant conversations. Swiped up on your Snapchat stories sometimes. Was unfortunately the only person you forgot to block from your story once when you posted a semi-thirst trap just for Soonyoung’s eyes.

Seungcheol: Friendly whenever he talked to you. A little awkward because you once saw him taking selfies at the gym instead of working out. 

Seungkwan: Not super buddy-buddy but sweet enough. Liked making fun of Soonyoung with you. He brought you McDonald’s once and you imagined a future with him momentarily.

Word also got around that your front tooth had been knocked out clean. Seungcheol let it slip when he accidentally referred to you as ‘Toothless’ the other day. You made a mental note to kill Soonyoung later.

The next time you ran into your driving instructor on campus was outside one of your lecture halls. You walked out in the middle of class to fill up your hydroflask. It was especially hot today, and you were seconds away from heat exhaustion. Soonyoung’s brows lifted in pleasant surprise once he saw you, and he missed his elevator to walk up to you.

“Whoa.” You paused for a moment, unblinking. “I keep forgetting you go here.”

“I’m the hall monitor.”

“This is college. We don’t have hall monitors.”

“Self-elected,” was his response. “Speaking of, I don’t see your bathroom pass.”

“I’m not going to the bathroom. I’m filling up my water. Anyway, why would I—”

“Just this once, I’ll let you off with a warning,” he interjected, pulling out a card from the pocket of his jeans. He handed it to you, and you accepted it after a moment of hesitation. “There’s your bathroom pass. Don’t let me catch you loitering around here again.” 

With that, Soonyoung walked off, leaving you utterly confused. 

You flipped the business card around to see his name and number printed neatly in the middle, and you frowned in response. There was some other fine text on the back, but you didn’t take the time to read it properly as you were still baffled. 

“I already have your number!” you called after him, but you just heard your driving instructor laugh to himself in response as he disappeared behind the elevator doors.

Later, after your classes ended, you went back to your study room with Junhui. He had been in the library since morning, deciding to skip his classes to prepare for his second round of midterms that he still had a few weeks for. 

You told him about your encounter with Soonyoung, noting how strange it was that he casually had business cards on hand. Junhui asked to see the card, so you handed it over to him. 

Upon closer inspection, Junhui raised his eyebrows, impressed. “Hall monitor rizz.”

“How was that rizz? He told me it was a bathroom pass and left.”

“Well, I’d consider it rizz since he’s asking you out on a date.”

Heat rose to your cheeks. “You think he’s asking me out on a date?” 

“No, I know he’s asking you out on a date.” Junhui flipped Soonyoung’s business card around to show you the fine print: Schedule our first date with the number provided on the other side of this card. The corner of his mouth lifted. “Says it right here. He’s just shy, Y/N.”

“Shy? Him? He doesn’t look like the shy type.”

“He’s shy,” he affirmed, “around you, at least. I mean, you’d get shy around the person you liked, wouldn’t you?” 

“I guess, but…” you trailed off, shaking your head. “No, this is normal, right? Dates are normal. We’re just two normal adults going on a normal date. Nothing weird about that, right? I shouldn’t feel so weird about this. Do I sound weird? Am I weird?”

You didn’t realize you had gotten up and started pacing until you turned to see Junhui looking at you with concern hanging in his brows. You sucked in a sharp breath and sank back into your seat, burying your face in your hands. 

“I’m in way over my head,” you mumbled. 

“You’re nervous ‘cause you have a crush on him,” he replied. “Nothing weird about that.”

“I have a crush on him,” you echoed, more so to yourself than to Junhui. 

Although you were partly in denial, still tossing and turning the prospect of crushing on Soonyoung around in your head, Junhui took your words as confirmation. He hummed knowingly and turned back to his textbook, leaving you to ruminate for the next thirty minutes in silence before you excused yourself. 

You were currently speed walking to your usual bus stop, hoping you would be able to stop thinking about Soonyoung and the business card tucked into your pocket. However, you couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility of you developing a tiny crush on him. 

You hadn’t had a proper crush in ages. The last time you had strong feelings for someone was in high school, which promptly ended following your first date—after an eight month talking stage. You proposed going to the fair, which seemed fine until you threw up on the ferris wheel and received an ‘I don’t think this is going to work out’ text later that night. 

And why were you so flustered over this, anyway? After all, you had been anticipating the day Soonyoung would make the first move. Plus, you were an adult; overthinking your feelings like this was so high school. 

Whatever. You had nothing to lose.

You pulled out your phone to text Soonyoung, a small smile crossing your face once you caught sight of his profile picture again. It was a picture of him with all his hair flying every which way in the wind and his mouth open to yell some profanity. 

y/n: date. y/n: this week any day 

soonyoung (driving instructor): WHOA!!!!!!

y/n: what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day

soonyoung (driving instructor): tomorrow night

y/n: okay

soonyoung (driving instructor): okay

y/n: okay.

soonyoung (driving instructor): okay. soonyoung (driving instructor): can’t wait

y/n: me neither

soonyoung (driving instructor): pick you up at 8

y/n: i’ll be ready

soonyoung (driving instructor): i’ll be even more ready

Your heart didn’t stop pounding for the rest of the day.

To be a woman was to perform. 

You were currently performing an illegal U-turn. 

Soonyoung held onto the ‘oh shit’ handle fixed to the ceiling, his face contorted in absolute fear as he repeated, “Wrong lane, wrong lane, wrong lane, wrong lane, wrong lane—”

“Sorry!” you exclaimed, swerving back into your correct lane after checking your mirrors. You swallowed thickly before saying, “I’ve got it under control now, I think.”

Of course, you had been nervous the entire day and a half leading up to your date with Soonyoung, but how you felt right now had completely reigned over every emotion you were feeling before. 

Throughout the day, you had butterflies in your stomach and a little skip to your step, but now you were terrified of things you had never even worried about before. The reason you took a U-turn in the first place was because Soonyoung told you that you missed the parking lot entrance, causing you to panic in the middle of the road (which, on your part, was not very smart.) 

In short, Soonyoung should not have let you take the wheel, and you should not have gotten this worked up over him planning to take you to the local fair. 

What were the odds that you were back in the place where you had an awful last date? You could almost feel the bile rising up your throat.

Soonyoung’s voice was unnaturally high-pitched when he asked, “A-are you sure you’re ready to schedule that driving test?” 

“Yes! I’m ready,” you said, “but, to make things clear, my driving today is not representative of my driving any other day.”

Somehow, you and Soonyoung wound up making it to the fairgrounds’ parking lot in one piece. You deflated upon hearing the sigh of relief escape Soonyoung’s lips once the car was in park, but it was well deserved. You were surprised he even let you drive in the first place. 

The fairgrounds were packed with people—mostly students—so there were several couples going around with their fingers interlocked. You were now hyper-aware of your fingertips, wondering if you’d get the chance to brush them against Soonyoung’s and slowly slide your hand into his. 

He ended up paying for your ticket, and you didn’t have much room to argue about it because the employee was already taking his card before you even noticed. You told Soonyoung you would pay for something else—food, rides, raffle tickets—but he ended up covering everything for you. Of course, you were sure Junhui would have scolded you because turning down a guy paying for you was apparently equivalent to turning down the guy himself. So, you swallowed your pride and let Soonyoung take the lead. 

You went on a few rides with Soonyoung, shared a churro, and you took a picture in front of the ferris wheel. You were having a great time, actually, and almost all of your nerves had all but melted away. All that was left to deem this a perfect date was to actually ride the ferris wheel, which was exactly what you were absolutely terrified of. 

“Not good with heights?” Soonyoung asked as you two were getting into the seat, pulling down the lap bar for you two. 

You wondered if you looked as ghastly as you felt. “Not so much.”

You weren’t good with a lot of things, to be fair.

Smooth talker Soonyoung took that as his opportunity to slip his hand into yours, lacing your fingers together with a shy smile on his face. “You can close your eyes if it gets scary, or just keep looking at me.”

Honestly, that sounded scarier than the possibility of plummeting to your death from the top of the ferris wheel. You weren’t sure your heart could handle staring at Soonyoung, especially with how flustered his gaze made you feel. 

“Hey, could I ask you something?” you asked, nearly shying away when Soonyoung fixed his gaze on you. “When did you start liking me? I mean, I had no idea.”

“Uh…” The ride started moving backward as Soonyoung hummed in thought. “Probably that first time you were in my car?”

Your eyes went wide. “You mean our very first lesson?”

“Yeah, I thought you were cute—a little weird, but cute.” He grinned. “I think it was when you fell asleep over FaceTime that one night when I started catching feelings.”

Your cheeks burned. You weren’t sure if you could pinpoint a specific moment like he did; you just remembered your heart started beating faster when you saw him one day, and the rest was history. It was almost incredible how blindsided you were by his feelings, even though he had integrated himself into your daily life so naturally.

“And then you posted that one picture on your story once,” he continued, voice growing shy once he realized what he admitted out loud, “and that was when I knew I was really in too deep.”

You blanched with embarrassment. He must have been talking about the thirst trap because that was the only time you ever posted yourself so confidently. How were you going to explain that you blocked everyone else from your Snapchat story just for him to see that?

A nervous laugh bubbled from your lips. “About that—”

Before you could get any other words out, though, you became painfully aware of your surroundings. Your seat started swinging with the strong winds, and you realized that you were at the very top. If you leaned over enough, you were pretty sure your seat would tip over and drop you and Soonyoung right out. The very thought paralyzed you to the core. 

Just as Soonyoung was in the middle of asking if you were okay, the ferris wheel started moving faster, and you yelped and clung onto him as you two went down. You were fine with the slow pace with breaks in between, but now that you were moving at full speed in one go, it was downright terrifying. 

Soonyoung seemed to find it hilarious, though. He laughed and wrapped an arm around you while you were the very picture of fear. You buried your face into his chest and dug your nails in so hard that you were afraid he would feel them through his sweater. 

Finally, it came to a stop. The ride operator started letting people out one seat at a time, but you and Soonyoung had ended up at the very top again. You raised your head to sit upright again, letting out an exasperated breath, but Soonyoung drew you closer. He was still laughing, and it made you blush uncontrollably. 

“Just so you know, I’m good with any other ride!” you tried to defend yourself. “Well, actually, save for roller coasters and drop towers… oh, and—”

“Y/N,” Soonyoung cut you off with a smile, his voice hardly a murmur. Before, you could barely hear him over the excited cries and shouts in the fair, but now your attention had zeroed in on him. You felt disoriented as he placed his warm hand on your cheek, tilting his head and leaning in. “C’mere.”

You were too shy to admit it, but you had fantasized about making out with Soonyoung before. Of course, you never knew what type of kisser he was, so you just settled for whatever fantasy played out in your head.

Now, though, with his lips pressed against yours, you felt something hot and needy stir up inside you as he tugged you impossibly close to his body. Your stomach fluttered when you let slip a whimper, which Soonyoung didn’t let go unnoticed. He pulled back for a moment, his gaze darkening, promising to return to that later, and he returned to kissing you. 

When you were almost near the ground, you and Soonyoung pulled away. There were definitely far too many children and parents around for you two to be kissing like that, but now you were anticipating how things would be once you two were alone. 

“You two have fun?” the ride operator, who appeared to be an older teenager, asked with a teasing lilt to his voice. 

All you could do was nod and duck your head in embarrassment while Soonyoung beamed brighter than the flashing lights. 

You spent some more time with Soonyoung on a few more (tamer) rides before you two decided to call it a day. Your feet were getting sore, so he courteously offered to drive the both of you home. However, you had an itching feeling that he just didn’t want you behind the wheel again. 

“Wanna get something to eat?” he asked once you both were inside the car, and he turned his head around as he reversed. “There’s a good froyo place down the street.”

“Yeah, let’s do that,” you agreed quickly. Deep down, you were hoping this date wouldn’t end just yet.

Soonyoung played Olivia Rodrigo’s new album as he drove, rolling the window down so that the wind tousled his hair. You thought he looked cute that way, and you had to keep your hand under your thigh to keep it from reaching over and running it through his locks. 

When he parked in front of the froyo place, it appeared completely dark inside. It was also evidently clear that the only cars parked in the lot were the overflow crowd of people from the fair who couldn’t get a parking spot at the fairgrounds. 

“Did we miss it?” He frowned, pausing to look up the store hours on his iPhone. “Man. I didn’t want our date to end like this.”

“I don’t want it to end, either.”

Soonyoung looked over at you, studying your expression carefully before asking, “Do you wanna chill in the back for a while, then?”

You knew what that meant. And you had specifically worn your matching lingerie set just for this moment. 

You unlatched your seatbelt, and Soonyoung followed suit right after. “Yeah, I’m down.” 

“Wait, there’s something I need to do first,” Soonyoung said in a soft voice, looking down at you with gentle eyes. 

For a moment, your heart jumped to your throat. The way he was looking at you sent butterflies to your stomach, and you couldn’t even imagine what he was going to do next. Something about his tone was so sincere that you were sure he was going to kiss you, especially when he started leaning down. 

You let your eyes flutter shut, waiting for his soft lips to meet yours. Your heartbeat felt like a drum in your ears. 

But nothing happened. No kiss. Nothing. 

You opened your eyes to see what Soonyoung was doing. When you saw him hunched over, fiddling with something near his ankles, your face deadpanned—not a flicker of amusement. 

Soonyoung had put his Crocs in sports mode. 

First of all, wearing Crocs on the first date was absurd.

Second of all, putting your Crocs in sports mode on the first date was absolutely preposterous. 

Yet, it was the perfect thing Soonyoung had done to put your nerves completely at ease. You ended up bursting into laughter at the very sight, making his head shoot up while his eyebrows were drawn together, perplexed. However, he happened to hit his head on the steering wheel as he did so, which only made you laugh even harder. 

Your sudden surge of confidence spurred you to crawl over the gear stick and straddle his lap. Shocked, Soonyoung gripped your thighs and straightened up. Before his lip could curl up in amusement, you wrapped your arms around his neck and slotted your lips with his. 

He broke for air for a moment, breathing out, “Well, hi.”

“Hi.” Your nose gently bumped against his. “Having second thoughts?” 

“No!” he exclaimed, rubbing his hands up and down your sides. “I just didn’t wanna start anything because I wasn’t sure if you were ready.” He threw a glance over his shoulder before looking out the window. “Plus, this place isn’t exactly private.” 

You looked out the window while Soonyoung’s warm hands returned to your thighs. It was true that there were empty cars around, but there weren’t any people in sight. It was still early in the night, so you were sure people would stay at the fairgrounds until midnight. 

“Hey,” Soonyoung started again, “what was that you were gonna say on the ferris wheel? Before we, uh, made out.” 

“Oh.” Shame bubbled in your chest when you realized what he was talking about. “Nothing important.”

“Tell me.”

Moonlight shone in from the window, illuminating the side of Soonyoung’s face and his neck, showing off his prominent collarbones. His low voice reached your core in a way you had never experienced before. You flushed with embarrassment because you were certain Soonyoung could feel how you clenched. 

You looked out the window, as if you could mentally escape through it. Find a way to get out of the situation you were in. 

“Fine.” He huffed lightly before placing a hand behind your neck and drawing you closer. “I’ll just get it out of you, then.”

Notably flustered, you gasped when Soonyoung’s lips latched onto the side of your neck, biting and sucking the tender skin. You croaked out some lame lie about forgetting what you were trying to say, but Soonyoung persisted. He ravaged the column of your neck like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. 

You scooted up on his lap, sitting right on top of his growing bulge, which roused a throaty groan from him. You could feel Soonyoung twitch under you, and it was all that was needed for you to start grinding your hips slowly on his lap. And then he started guiding your hips down onto him. Your breath hitched when you felt his fingers dig into the grooves of your hips to take control of your motions. 

“Tell me,” he beseeched, and you shivered when you could feel his smile against your jawline.

You let out a whine. “It’s embarrassing.” 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, distracted as he looked up at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. His hands never left your hips as he watched you grind down on his lap. Soonyoung’s eyes were unfocused for a moment before clarity bled back into him. “It was about the Snapchat story, right? That one picture you posted.” 

“I don’t remember what that was,” you attempted to lie smoothly, but you were pretty sure your expression betrayed you once Soonyoung slid a hand under your shirt to cup your chest. 

“Yeah, you do. The one where you were wearing those thigh-high stockings.” You saw a flash of darkness in his eyes. “Can’t believe everyone got to see you like that.”

“I wouldn’t say everyone,” you muttered. 

“Hm?”

His thumb, after his hand managed to creep under your bra, found purchase on your nipple, rolling and circling around the supple flesh as he pleased. You only managed to let out a cry before Soonyoung was pressing you further, ordering you to answer him before he made you fall apart. 

You were so caught up in your own pleasure, practically chest-to-chest with Soonyoung, that you hardly noticed the knock on the window until Soonyoung jolted upright and straightened his back. 

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, voice still thick with lust that was ebbing away. Thankfully, you both were still mostly clothed, but Soonyoung had his pants nearly down and you had your shirt riding up past your waist.

The officer stopped knocking to give Soonyoung the opportunity to roll the window down after he was decent. It was evidently an uncomfortable situation for both parties. You turned your head to the side, screwing your eyes shut and hoping you would blink out of existence if you tried hard enough. You never thought you would have a cop at your window before even getting your license. 

“Hi,” he greeted sheepishly once the window was down. “Sorry, we’ll get going now.”

“Yeah, uh…” The officer trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck with a long-winded sigh. “I’ll let you off with a warning this time, but keep it in the bedroom, please.”

“Thanks…” Soonyoung trailed off, looking for some sort of identification tag. 

“Officer Hong,” he answered flatly. 

“Thanks, Officer Hong.”

“Don’t let me catch you two again.”

“Oh, probably not me, but once she gets her license then it’s over for—ow!” Soonyoung yelped when you pinched him in the side, effectively shutting him up. He immediately apologized, “Sorry, Officer Hong, it won’t happen again.”

The encounter with the police officer was awkward, yes, but somehow, Soonyoung was unfazed once you two had gotten off with the warning. He coolly looked up at you and asked if he could come over to your place tonight. You agreed, of course.

The drive home was perfectly fine. Soonyoung made sure you weren’t too startled by the officer and asked how you liked the fair. You thought it was all pleasant conversation that would continue once you were in your living room, but Soonyoung pinned you up against your front door as soon as you were inside. 

His strong arms caged you in his hold, and you could only helplessly look up at him and warble out some pathetic question, asking if he wanted water or snacks. He turned the offer down, obviously. 

Since you two had already gotten this far, you figured you might as well let Soonyoung in on your little secret. Although it was slightly humiliating to admit, you realized tonight that far more embarrassing things had happened to you. 

“You really wanna know, don’t you?” When he nodded in response, you sighed and explained, “What I posted on my story… I blocked everyone else so that only you’d see it.”

Well, him and Mingyu, but the latter was purely accidental. 

Hearing your words flipped a switch in Soonyoung and he completely froze up, as if he had stopped functioning altogether.

“Well, technically, you and Mingyu,” you rambled on, “but that’s only because I forgot to block him from my story. You know, I have, like, two hundred people on Snapchat, so I figured I’d accidentally skip over someone, anyway. But I don’t think he even paid any attention to it. I feel like he’d—”

He cut you off by sealing his lips over yours, and all the noise in your head simmered down. All the fluff filling up your brain billowed and sank back down. You remembered when you were a middle schooler, giggling and replaying the scenes in movies that were exactly like this. Now that you were actually living in it, though, you couldn’t get enough of Soonyoung. 

He broke away for a breather, lips hanging barely an inch from yours and your foreheads touching. His heavily-lidded eyes found yours, gazing at you longingly through his lashes. 

“No offense,” he started with a smirk, “but I don’t really care about Mingyu right now.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but you shut it as soon as you realized that you had nothing intelligent to contribute. You recognized that most of your mindless ramblings probably killed the mood—for you, at least.

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, then your jaw, then the side of your neck. As he moved down to your chest, Soonyoung’s kisses grew sloppier and open-mouthed. He tugged at your shirt, and you helped him remove it with ease, snapping your bra off in the process and letting it fall to the floor. His hungry gaze upon seeing you bare before him made you ache for more. Soonyoung let out a groan and let his tongue drag over your nipple, circling and flicking around the sensitive skin until you were moaning shamelessly.

With his head ducked so that his lips could ravage your chest, Soonyoung bent down just a little bit more to wrap his arms around your thighs. He scooped you up in his arms swiftly, making you yelp, and he walked you to your bedroom after you whispered where your room was. He was so strong that you hardly had to hold onto him, but his strength was a double-edged sword because he had you pinned down on your bed in seconds. 

A grin crossed Soonyoung’s face as his lips returned to your chest. This time, his lips made their way down your body, to your stomach. You curled your hand in his hair, tugged hard because you wanted more, but Soonyoung was relentless with his teasing. He pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses that made you squirm under him and ache for more. They were slow and torturous, and you only grew more needy as he made his way down. 

“Can I take these off?” he asked, fingers slipping into the waistband of your pants. 

“Only if you take your clothes off, too.”

You heard him chuckle before you felt cold air starting to hit your bare skin. Soonyoung unzipped your pants and tugged them down your legs until they were bunched up at your ankles, which you struggled to kick off until he bent down to move the fabric off your heel. You shuddered when he snapped the band of your underwear, hooking his fingers at the sides and twisting the fabric. He sure was enjoying toying with you, and you weren’t sure you could handle any more teasing. After what felt like forever, Soonyoung pulled the last of your undergarments down and marveled at your bare body.

“You’re unbelievable,” he all but growled, running his hands down your sides, to your hips, and past your thighs. “I can’t believe I get to have you like this.”

You sat up, looking up at him with a pout, which only seemed to drive Soonyoung to the brink of madness. 

“You’re still clothed,” you observed.

“Yes.”

“Take it off.” You folded your arms across your chest. “I can’t be the only one naked.”

“Whatever you say, princess,” he replied with a laugh. You supposed he could see your expression falter, nearly letting some pathetic sound fall from your lips, so Soonyoung cooed at you and ran his thumb over your lower lip. “Oh, you like that? Like it when I call you princess?”

You did like it. You liked it too much for your own good, and it was almost humiliating.

Soonyoung towered over you as he peeled off his shirt, grabbing it from the nape of his neck and slipping it off in seconds. Your eyes ran over his beautiful expanse of skin, from every defined muscle in his abdomen to the little goosebumps that pricked his arms. You reached out to run your fingers down his abs, letting them trace each groove and dip in muscle. Soonyoung shivered at your very touch, but he allowed you to make your way down to undo his belt and pants. 

Your fingers were fumbling, but you managed to remove the latch after several failed attempts. He guided you with his steadier hands, but you were determined to do it yourself. Finally, you pulled his belt free and pushed his pants down his legs. 

He seemed to be slightly embarrassed, but Soonyoung was already rock hard. His cock sprang up so that the tip pushed past the waistband of his boxers. 

“Don’t worry about that,” he grumbled, sinking to his knees and placing his hands on your thighs. “I’ll take care of you first.”

He grabbed your knees and pushed them apart, staring at your soaked cunt like it was everything he ever wanted. Soft kisses peppered the inside of your thighs, working up to the apex of your legs. You felt the cold air hit your core and shivered, but then it was hot all over again once Soonyoung licked one long, slow stripe that made you writhe and cry out in bliss. He had to press your hips down to keep you from moving too much. 

But his movements were so slow and torturous. You were going insane by how much Soonyoung was teasing you with his kitten licks and lazy drags of tongue. Tears welled up in your eyes by the time you had been edged away from another impending orgasm, with him letting his dissolve as soon as the heat bloomed under your skin. 

Kissing your cunt. Plunging his tongue into your core. Licking at your walls until they trembled and shook with the warning of release. You were agonized by how good Soonyoung was making you feel.

“Please,” you begged, your voice breathless as your body felt lightweight, “let me cum, please.”

“Hm.” He seemed to consider it for a moment before saying, “Tell me three things you like about me, and I’ll let you cum.”

You laughed, but it died on your tongue as soon as you realized there was no amusement on his face.

“You’re kidding, right?” You swallowed hard, knowing you had your answer already. “Oh, you’re not kidding.”

He was making you work for your orgasm. This was mortifying; you never expected Soonyoung to be so cruel, and you never expected it to be so hot.

“Three things, baby,” he said. “Start with number one.”

“One,” you started, your voice shaky as Soonyoung returned to snaking his tongue past your folds, “I like how you treat me so well and look after me, like—oh, right there—yeah, like that.”

“Two,” you continued, more so in a whimper because Soonyoung was skillfully using his tongue to reach places you never thought to stimulate before. “I, ah—I like the way you look at me and when you tell me I’m beautiful.” You sucked in your teeth when you felt him press his tongue flat against your clit. “Soonyoung, please.”

“One more,” he murmured.

“T-three,” you breathed out, and by this point, your legs were already shaking. Your brain was turning to mush and you couldn’t help but clench at Soonyoung lapping at your soaked cunt. The tremor in your voice was unmistakable when you admitted, “I love how you’re so much better at this than I ever could’ve imagined.”

He breathed out a laugh against your cunt. “Am I really?” He tightened his grip on your hips to suck on your clit, making your back arch and your chest feel light. “You think about me that often, princess?”

“Mmhm,” you confirmed with your eyes screwed shut. “Thought about you whenever I was—”

“Don’t finish that,” he warned, though it almost sounded like he was pleading with you, “or I’ll go crazy.”

Your nerves felt like they had tangled themselves into several knots that kept tightening in your stomach. You shuddered and moaned with each motion of Soonyoung’s tongue that brought you closer to your release. He was merciless with the way he dipped his tongue in your core, rubbing your clit with his thumb in slow circles.

Your walls tightened one last time before you were finally blinded by your white-hot orgasm, and you hardly even realized that hot tears were streaming down your cheeks. Soonyoung was eating you out unabated, not even giving you a break between each wave of pleasure that hit you. After your climax subsided and coherency gradually bled back into you, Soonyoung finally pulled back and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

You grabbed his arm before he could say anything. Soonyoung looked you in the eyes for a moment, alarmed, but the worry knitting his brows together melted away once you pulled him down for a proper kiss.

With your arms wrapped around his neck and his knee between your legs, Soonyoung eventually found himself lowering his body until your chests were pressed together. He kept himself up by his elbows and pulled away to look at you. He brushed your hair out of your face and leaned in for another kiss.

As you two became a tangled mess of limbs, wrapped up in each other and far too occupied to care about anything but making out, you moved your hand down Soonyoung’s abs to wrap your hand around his cock. He groaned against your lips and rocked his hips against your touch. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” he murmured, his voice low and thick with lust. After reaching back to tug his boxers down, freeing his cock from the restricting fabric, Soonyoung looked down at you with desire glazing over his eyes. “May I?”

“Please do,” you answered.

You cried out when he started rubbing the head of his cock against your cunt, teasing your folds like he did before. You were aching already despite your previous orgasm, and you thought you were going to die on the spot from how needy you were.

“Turn onto your stomach,” he ordered. You were confused for a moment, but you ended up being manhandled by Soonyoung, anyway. He flipped you over and positioned himself at your entrance, keeping one hand on the back of your neck. “Good girl.”

The side of your face was pressed into the sheets, and your hands were desperately reaching for anything that gave you proper leverage. You ended up grabbing onto the pillows just as Soonyoung started pushing his cock inside you. You swallowed down the gasp that dared threaten to escape, and Soonyoung pressed kisses to your face and made sure you weren’t crying from how big he was.

With more filth and praises whispered into your ear, you were clenching and unclenching around him, making Soonyoung groan whenever he felt you tighten. It took a while for him to ease his way into you, but once Soonyoung had finally nestled inside of you, it was as if a switch flipped in him.

He was thrusting as soon as you gave him the green light. You were blindsided by how intense he was, hardly having any control over your own body as you held onto the sheets for dear life. Soonyoung held your hips with a bruising grip as he fucked into you.

Hot.

Everything felt hot and sticky. Your sweat-matted hair clung to the back of your neck, and you felt like your sheets were uncomfortably damp. Despite it all, though, you couldn’t get enough. You needed more, wanted more. Soonyoung was relentless, even when your box springs creaked and the frame rattled against the wall. 

You felt his cock twitch inside of you. “Fuck. You’re taking me so well.”

Still overly-sensitive from your previous orgasm, it didn’t take long for you to reach your limit a second time. Soonyoung pounded into you with fervor, and even he was quickly falling apart. 

“That’s it,” he got out, teeth gritted. “That’s my girl.”

You pulled him down for a deep kiss, muffling both of your moans once you were clenching uncontrollably around him. You were falling from your peak and Soonyoung fucked you through your orgasm, even though he was on the verge of one himself. 

He pulled out right before he was about to cum, and you could only hear his groans before you realized he had gotten off, too. For a moment, you thought Soonyoung abandoned you on the bed. His voice sounded distant all of a sudden, and you were too tuckered out to move. 

Then, he returned with a towel and several tissues for you. You turned onto your back again to make out his silhouette entering the room and taking a seat next to you. Your eyes were shut as Soonyoung cleaned you up, and you only opened them once he pushed your hair back and kissed your cheek. 

“Wanna go again?” he asked with a grin. You were impressed by how quickly he was able to recover. You, on the other hand, needed a few minutes to recuperate. “The night’s still young.”

“Yeah, sure, if you use a condom this time,” you breathed out, turning over onto your side. “Just give me five.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, letting your chest rise and fall until its rhythm steadied. Your breathing was even again, but when you opened your eyes, you saw neon green glowing in the middle of the room. 

“Soonyoung.” You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. You were not getting dicked down by manga censorship. “Why is your dick glowing?” 

“I prefer glow-in-the-dark condoms.” 

Typically, when two individuals had feelings for each other, it would often bloom into a relationship.

It was quite clear that you had feelings for Soonyoung and he had feelings for you, so, naturally, one would expect the two of you to start dating. However, it felt like you both were testing the waters around each other instead—dipping your toes into the dating pool. You two were exclusive, but not exactly together. 

You were perfectly content with taking things slow, but that didn’t necessarily mean Soonyoung didn’t end up over you almost every other night. The sex was great, of course. Mind-blowing, even. 

Seungcheol, Mingyu, and Seungkwan seemed to catch on quickly. There was no mistaking what was going on after you went over to their apartment to play Catan, and then you and Soonyoung disappeared into his room afterward. The next morning, when you walked downstairs in Soonyoung’s shirt to eat breakfast with everyone, you could pick up on their unspoken realization that you were hooking up with their roommate. 

Seungkwan even made an offhand comment about you and Soonyoung being a thing—whatever that was supposed to mean. 

You debriefed Junhui on the entire situation, of course. He seemed less surprised about you sleeping with Soonyoung, though, and more interested in the outcome of your driving test (which, you had to admit, you were terribly worried about). 

The night before your dreaded behind-the-wheel exam, you received a call from Soonyoung.

You weren’t sure what to expect when you picked up the call. You knew that he’d been planning on getting high with his housemates today, so you weren’t exactly sure if this phone call was going to be private or not. You were half-expecting Seungcheol to answer for him instead. 

“Hey,” Soonyoung greeted, voice slightly muffled. With the way the audio sounded, you suspected that he wasn’t holding onto his phone at the moment.

“Are you busy?” you asked. 

“No, just trying to get the pod you gave me out of its packaging.” You heard a few strained grunts from him before he exclaimed, “I got it!”

“I’m proud of you.”

“That’s what I’ll be telling you after you ace that driving test,” he said. He paused for a moment (which you guessed was him taking a hit). “You ready for it, by the way?”

“Not really.” You sucked in a sharp breath. “The good news is that taking years to pass the permit test has helped me memorize all the rules of the road; the bad news is that I have severe anxiety and probably won’t be able to utilize anything I’ve learned.”

“You’ll be fine, Y/N. You drove just fine with me, didn’t you?”

“But that’s you! How am I gonna drive properly with some scary old guy who probably hasn't ever smiled in his life?”

“Just relax. Remember to slow down on your turns and check your blind spots when you’re changing lanes.”

Your voice grew shy when you admitted, “This is gonna sound weird, but I kind of miss our driving lessons.”

“Even when you lost your tooth?”

You grimaced. “Even then.” 

Soonyoung laughed along with you for a moment before he simmered. The silence on the other side of the line didn’t feel uncomfortable, but you felt like each nerve end of yours was on fire. 

“I didn’t want it to end either, Y/N,” Soonyoung said after a while, his voice dropping an octave. 

“Really?”

“I don’t wanna be in a world where we aren’t in a car together, whether I’m telling you to stop driving under the speed limit or we’re crashing into that Honda Civic that knocked your front tooth out,” he started, and you scratched the back of your head. Yeah, he was definitely high. “And, maybe… maybe the missing front tooth was really the catalyst for all the memories we made along the way. Maybe, in another universe, that tooth never fell out—or existed. Maybe the concept of that occurrence manifested into this universe as a—”

“Okay, it was cute at first,” you interrupted, “but you’re definitely in that other universe right now.”

You had never been this much of a nervous wreck.

Actually, scratch that. You were probably this much of a nervous wreck at least thrice a week. You functioned on being anxious several times a day, so this was honestly not a new feeling. The only problem was that you had never driven with anyone other than Soonyoung, so you were slightly on edge as you turned into the DMV.

“Please return my car in one piece,” Soonyoung said, holding onto the ‘oh shit’ handle as you went over a speed bump, which you found highly unnecessary. He pointed to the starting point for the driving test. “I’ll wait for you outside the building over there.”

“Sounds good.”

“And remember: if you’re gonna fail the test, make sure you fail it big time. Don’t fail it by going ten over the speed limit, or something boring like that.”

“That’s terrible advice, Soonyoung.”

“I’m playing. You’re gonna be just fine.”

“Thanks, I’m just so—oh my god!” 

You stepped on the breaks immediately, gripping the wheel tight as the car lurched forward. The man who was crossing in front of you doubled over onto the hood of the car before standing upright again. You rolled your window down to yell an apology, but the man paid you no attention and kept walking with a scowl on his face. 

“I almost killed him!” you cried, slapping a hand over your mouth. 

“Well…” Soonyoung didn’t seem to know how to reassure you as he was still immobilized with fear himself. He managed a shaky grin. “On the bright side, he’s alive and you’re not facing a lawsuit.”

You swallowed hard. There was no way this exam was going to go well. 

After handing in the necessary paperwork inside the DMV, they approved you to go outside for your driving test. Since Soonyoung was letting you use his car while he waited outside, he sat with you until your examiner came by. He did everything he could to calm you down, but, ultimately, it was up to you to pass. 

While Soonyoung was giving his seat up for your examiner, you closed your eyes and tried to take deep breaths to mentally prepare. 

“Ma’am, can you turn on your left turn signal?” the examiner asked from your window. 

When you turned to look at him, you felt something inside you shrivel up and die. 

The man you almost ran over was your examiner. 

In your daze, you managed to follow his instructions as he asked you to point out various things, such as the windshield wipers, defroster, and foot brake. All the while you were already preparing yourself for failure because there was absolutely no way this man was going to let you pass after almost becoming your victim. 

Once the pre-drive safety check was over, he circled around the car to sit in the passenger’s seat, looking down at his clipboard for a moment. You held your tongue, hands clasped together in your lap. Were you supposed to apologize? Would he even care about your apology? It wouldn’t hurt to say sorry, right?

You started in a meek voice, “Oh, about what happened earlier, I’m so—”

“I’m Jeonghan, and I’m gonna be scoring your behind-the-wheel test today,” he cut you off with an air of indifference, looking back down at his clipboard. “Whenever you start the car is when the test begins.”

“Right—yes, okay.” You swallowed thickly and gripped the wheel, looking behind you to make sure no one was coming. Since there were a few cars driving by, you decided to wait for a moment. “A-are you having a good day?”

“I was.”

You wanted to crawl in a hole and drop dead. 

After the road was clear, you turned out of the DMV and started driving down the road, checking your speed and mirrors every so often. You had always been comfortably driving with Soonyoung, who would just help you reroute if you missed a turn. Now, though, if you missed anything Jeonghan said, you were going to fail (and probably die). 

“Take the right coming up here,” he instructed.

You remembered your turn signal and to look back over your shoulder. Soonyoung had taught you well, but you were afraid that his gentle instructions would only take you so far. Jeonghan was the most intimidating person you had come across (mostly because you almost killed him), and you should not have been trusted to drive someone you were terribly scared of. 

After you made the turn, you sighed in relief at the long stretch of road ahead. You attempted to cover it up by clearing your throat and making small talk with Jeonghan. 

“It’s pretty cold today, isn’t it?” you asked. Stupid question. You had no idea how cold it was. Soonyoung’s car felt like a sauna because you cranked up the heater, or maybe the heat was from how nervous you were. 

Jeonghan promptly ignored you. “Change lanes and take the next left.” 

Albeit your state of disarray, you followed what he said. You decided to give up on small talk altogether, coming to the conclusion that Jeonghan just hated you and didn’t want to converse with the person who almost murdered him in cold blood. 

You were pretty confident that the rest of your driving test went horribly. You almost went ten under the speed limit to make sure you didn’t run over anyone else in the school zone, you shrieked when the railroad lights turned on and you had to wait for the train to pass by, and you looked both ways about five times when you were at a stop sign. 

Jeonghan told you to park the car once you reached the DMV, so you pulled into an empty parking space. You were praying that he wasn’t still grading you because you were most definitely occupying two parking spaces right now. 

“Okay, so,” he started, looking at his clipboard before turning to you with a deadpan stare, “you drive too slow.”

Oh. That was intentional because you didn’t want to deal with another hit and run, but you stayed quiet and nodded. 

“And,” he continued, “you overthink too much when you’re behind the wheel. Don’t hesitate before you stop or make turns, or you’re just gonna run into trouble that way. You can’t be paranoid about driving, otherwise it’s gonna be hard for you to be on the road.”

You pressed your lips together in a tight line. This was it. He was going to fail you. There was no way you were going to pass when you were being criticized for your entire performance. You didn’t blame Jeonghan, though; you probably wouldn’t pass the person who almost ran you over, either. 

“Well, you were cutting it really close,” he said, circling some parts of your examination sheet, “but you passed.”

Your eyes grew wide.

You passed.

You passed.

You turned to Jeonghan and cried out, “I passed?!”

“You know your car, you know the rules of the road, and you did all your maneuvers just fine,” he continued. “You slowed down in the school zone to make sure you didn’t hit any kids, and you were careful about your turns and stops. Just remember not to be too careful, though, or you might run into someone.”

For the first time, you heard a small snicker of amusement come from him. 

“I—I’m so sorry about that,” you blurted out. “I thought you were gonna fail me for hitting you with the car.”

“Like I said, the test begins when you start the car.” He handed you your papers and got out of your car. Before closing the door, he turned to you with his clipboard tucked under his arm. “You should go tell the DMV you passed and get your temporary license before I mark you down for this parking job.”

You gulped, unbuckling your seatbelt in a rush. “Will do.”

Jeonghan stalked off to grade another new driver, you supposed. When you got out of the car, your eyes immediately scanned the perimeter to search for Soonyoung, and there he was, waving you over from the sidewalk with a bright grin on his face. 

Before you could even make your way over and break the news to him, he yelled out with his hands cupped around his mouth, “That’s my girl!”

You blushed, stopping in your tracks and staring at him for so long that it took a car honking at you to propel you back into motion. You scrambled over to Soonyoung, eyes wide as saucers and still frazzled from the emotional turmoil you went through with Jeonghan.

He wrapped an arm around you. “You know, no matter the result, I’m proud of you for trying. There’s always next time, you know?”

“Soonyoung—”

“Did everything else go well, though? Other than you almost killing him, obviously.”

“Soonyoung, I—”

“It was probably just bad luck, honestly. I mean, it was a recoverable bump, not even a full-on crash! You were going so slow that anyone could walk that off.”

“Soonyoung!” you yelled, thrusting your score sheet into his hands. “I passed!”

His eyes widened. “You passed?!”

“I passed!” you squealed. “I have to tell Junhui! I mean, he totally thought I was gonna fail my first two or six tries!”

Soonyoung crushed you into a hug, which would’ve been more endearing if your ribs weren’t being squeezed so hard. “Holy shit, Y/N, I’m so proud of you.”

You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck and drawing him closer. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Be my girlfriend,” he spoke against your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin, and you immediately froze.

Kwon Soonyoung wanted to be your boyfriend. Even with everything that had happened—from the STIIZY pods, to the car crash, to the glow-in-the-dark condom—you still felt relief flooding your veins at the thought of Soonyoung liking you as much as you liked him. It almost felt like you were in a dream.

After what felt like an eternity, you finally remembered how to breathe.

You pulled back to look at him, and even though it was the middle of the day, it felt like all the stars were out to make Soonyoung shine brighter than usual.

“Be my girlfriend,” he repeated, softer this time, and his eyes were gentle as his hands reached for yours. Your lips immediately tugged down and your eyes were welling up with tears. “No, no, no, Y/N, don’t start crying at the DMV.”

You wiped at the corner of your eye. “I can’t help it. I always cry at the DMV.” He smiled down at you fondly, waiting for you to gather your composure. You mustered up the strength to lift your head and nod eagerly. “I accept.”

He was your boyfriend now. The word felt strange on your tongue, but it also filled you with inexplicable happiness. And when you saw how Soonyoung’s eyes crinkled at the corners, you thought you could definitely get used to this. 

“You’re so cute.” He laughed, pulling you into his embrace once again. “How about we go get something to eat after you tell them your score?”

You grinned. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

While Soonyoung was waiting in the car for you (and probably readjusting your terrible parking job before he got yelled at), you walked into the DMV and stood in the same line you were in months ago for your permit test. You remembered the anxious feeling of possibly failing your written test a seventh time, but now you felt a huge weight being lifted off your shoulders. 

“I did it,” you gushed to the woman at the counter, handing her your score sheet. “I passed.” 

“Congratulations!” she chirped, examining the papers before turning to type something on her computer. She turned to grab your temporary license from the printer and handed it to you. “Here you go. Your real one should come in the mail in a few weeks.”

“Thank you so much,” you replied, inspecting your new license with bright eyes. 

You failed your permit test six times, only passing on your seventh attempt. While other children were getting their licenses at the age of sixteen, you were still trying to pass the written test in your twenties. And, yes, you had severe driving anxiety, but you crossed that hurdle yourself and finally passed your driving test on your first try. 

So, that glass ceiling? Consider it smashed.

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ thank you so so much for reading if you've made it this far !! :') i've been wanting to write for hoshi for so long and this was just so fun <3 also BIG shoutout to everyone who asked to be on the tag list because although i couldn't respond to everyone (mostly because i figured i would end up tagging everyone twice 🧎‍♀️ ), i mega appreciate your interest ♡ hope everyone's having a wonderful day/night !!

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[flowerkidyjh]

WARNINGS: smut, penetrative sex, nasty messy sex so—mentions of body fluids (cum), hair pulling, cock riding, really horny reader, hoshi rolling his hips like a slut, it doesnt have an order, it's just a long drabble of how hoshi fucks.

hoshi's hip (sex) game is the topic of the night, and this a post 100% dedicated to it (and how he fucks basically). i swear, there's not a SINGLE fic of mine that doesnt mention hoshi circling his hips or going balls sack deep. DUH. he’s a dancer—body carved by god or whoever tf is up there crafting perfect models for shit like this.

but looks like all of his dancer journey have gone straight into how he fucks. and yeah, you should’ve said something earlier, should’ve prepared your damn soul for the hip game this man is packing. but nah, you were dumb. reckless. thought it’d just be another roll in the sheets.

it was not.

he’s got you laid out like a fucking masterpiece, your legs trembling before he’s even inside. his hands r steady as hell, holding your hips like they’re choreography. “you good?” he asks trying to sound cute, heartly being careful but with that stupidly hot, cocky grin curling his lips, like he already knows the answer. he does.

and when he slides in, it's game over. it’s not just the stretch (which is already enough to have your back arching like you’re tryna touch the ceiling). it’s the way he moves. hoshi doesn’t thrust. he rolls his hips, and i JUST KNOW! that it goes straight to the sweeet spot. he knows will ruin you. you’re done. wiped out.

“you feel that?” smug motherfucker. and yeah, you do. his tip’s got your g'spot on lockdown, like he mapped that shit out beforehand. every roll has his glutes flexing, you didn’t think you’d ever appreciated someone’s ass mid-fuck until hoshi, the power in them driving him deeper, balls-deep and then some. it’s like he’s tryna rewrite your anatomy.

“fuck me—” it’s the only thing you can manage because every other thought in your brain has been evicted.

“yeah, that’s what i thought.” he punctuates his words with a sharp snap of his hips. he’s got one hand gripping your thigh, the other tangling in your hair. if it’s long, he’s wrapping it around his wrist, pulling your head back just enough to meet his gaze.

“look at me,” he commands, and his hips don’t. fucking. stooooop, grinding into you like he’s on heat. “c’mon, babe. lemme hear you.”

but all you can manage is this strangled suffocated moan because his pulse is fucking otherworldly. he knows it, too. his smirk deepens, his eyes dark with that predatory gleam of someone who knows he’s completely destroying you.

legs, trembling. breath, nonexistent. moans, choked af, caught in your throat because his tip is right there. massaging your cervix, hitting that spot like it owes him rent. hips circling so smoothly it feels like he’s winding you tighter and tighter, like you’re about to snap.

and when you do—because obviously you do—he doesn’t slow down. no, he leans into it, letting you ride that high while his pace stays maddeningly perfect. every roll, every grind, like he’s got this whole thing down to a science.

hoshi knows exactly what he’s doing. and he loves it. loves the way your body reacts to him, the way your thighs tremble and your back arches, the way your moans break apart like you can’t take it anymore. “told you, didn’t i?” he says, grinning as he watches you unravel. “best fuck in the world.”

you knew you were screwed the moment hoshi smiled at you during that dinner. not the polite kind of smile tho—it was the type that tugged at the corner of his mouth, the one that promised chaos (very hoshi of him). you’d spent the whole night thinking, damn, he’s so sweet, so charming, falling for his jokes and the way his laugh made everything else blur. and then, that same mouth was pressed against your neck not even two hours later, and now you’re realizing that “sweet” is the last fucking word you’d ever use for him.

it’s not even just him, it’s the fact that he drags you down with him. one second, you’re gasping like some innocent disney princess; the next, you’ve got your knees digging into the mattress, heels propped up, grinding down on his cock like you’re trying to carve his name into your pussy.

“ohmygodyouresofuckingbig” you gasp, your voice wild, your hand braced against the headboard so you don’t fucking launch into orbit. his hands resting on your hips, loose as hell, like he’s just chilling, letting you take what you want.

he laughs at the sight, his chest glistening from sweat, abs flexing every time you drop down. his head tips back against the pillow, a hand running through his messy hair as he watches you like you’re putting on the show of a lifetime. “weren’t you just the sweetest little thing at dinner? now you’re grinding on me like you think i’m about to leave.”

your reply isn’t even a word. it’s a throaty, drawn-out moan, one that sounds ripped straight from a porno, because hoshi’s cock feels like it was engineered to ruin you. every time your hips roll down, you feel him, thick and impossibly deep, stretching you making your brain short-circuit. “shit, baby,” he groans when you clench around him, his hands tightening ever so slightly. “you’re so—fuck—tight.”

you’re too far gone to even be embarrassed. filthy sounds of your bodies moving together are louder than any shame you could’ve had, and when his tip drags right against your sweet spot, you lose it.

“fuck, hoshi,” you babble, your voice cracking as you try to form coherent thoughts. “so deep, you’re so—god, you’re—you’re ruining me!”

his laugh rumbles beneath you. “ruining you?” he mocks. “baby, you’re doing all the work. look at you. riding me like you’re afraid my cock’s gonna disappear.”

you barely register his words. but when he takes one hand and tangles it in your hair again, pulling just enough to tilt your head back, you’re done for. absolutely done. “oh my god, oh my fucking god,” you cry out, your thighs burning from the effort, but you don’t stop. can’t stop. he’s too deep, too good, his cock hitting your g-spot with every grind, every roll, and it’s got you unraveling at the seams.

“listen to you,” he keeps talking, even though he's more moaning than saying anything. “such a good girl at dinner, saying please and thank you. now you’re on my cock, moaning like you’re getting paid for it.”

“you—fuck—you’re so—fucking big,” you manage to gasp, your hand sliding down his chest, fingers curling into his slick skin as if that’ll keep you steady. “so deep, hosh, i can’t—i’m gonna—oh my god.”

his hips shifting up just a fraction to meet yours. that tiny movement sends stars shooting across your vision, and agian, he fucking knows it. “yeah?” he murmurs, his voice dropping lower. “you gonna cum for me, baby? gonna cream my cock, hm?” his words shouldn’t hit as hard as they do, but your body reacts before your brain can catch up. your thighs tremble, your moans turning into these high-pitched, incoherent whines as you chase that high, grinding down harder, faster.

“that’s it,” he groans, his grip on your hair tightening just enough to make your screams go silent. “fuck, you’re so good. so fucking good. take it, baby. take everything.”

and when you finally snap, your head tipping back, your moans breaking into sharp, breathless cries, he lets you ride it out. doesn’t rush, doesn’t push, just watches with this half-lidded, satisfied grin as you completely lose your dignity on his cock.

AND.

he loves the mess. thrives in it, even.

it starts when he’s got his fingers buried in you, watching the way your slick coats them with every pump. his other hand’s braced against your thigh, holding you open, keeping you spread so he can watch the way you clench and drip around him.

“listen to that,” grin on his face pure sin as his fingers curl. the wet, obscene sounds of your cum fill the air, and he’s eating it up, moaning slutty like it’s his favorite fucking song. “so messy, baby. you like that, huh? making such a pretty little mess on my hand.” he doesn’t stop until you’re shaking, until there’s a wet spot on the sheets beneath you, proof of just how far he went.

“fuck, look at that,” he groans, dragging his coated fingers along your inner thigh, leaving wet trails that make you shudder. when he slides into you, it’s like he’s in a trance. slow just enough to feel the way your walls squeeze around him, wet and hot and perfect. but then he pulls out almost entirely, glancing down to watch the way your cum clings to him, coating every inch of his cock in a slick, glistening sheen.

he does it again. until he’s buried deep, then pulls out just to watch. the slick sound of it drives him insane, makes him groan low in his throat as he watches strings of your sluick stretch between you before dripping down onto the sheets. every thrust is accompanied by the wet, obscene sound of your slick, loud enough to echo in the room, loud enough to make him grin (maybe thats why he likes to roll his hips deep inside you, because makes the sound louder??) “every time i move, i can hear you, baby. you hear that? that’s all you.”

but it’s never enough for him, hoshi’s gotta see it. so he slows down, pulls out entirely, and fuck, the sight alone is enough to make him lose it. your arousal glistens on his cock, dripping in thick, shining lines, pooling onto the bed beneath you. he runs a hand along his length, spreading it, smearing it, just so he can watch how messy you’ve made him.

and then he’s back inside, the glide impossibly smooth, wet and filthy, and he’s groaning like it’s the best thing he’s ever felt.

[flowerkidyjh]

✧ warm

✧ kwon soonyoung x reader ✧ summary: you are so warm beneath the blankets and, like a moth drawn to a flame, soonyoung was helpless to resist your body. ✧ wc is approx. 2.6 k ✧ tags: established relationship, smut, sleepy sex. ✧ warnings: minors do not interact. top!hoshi, bottom!reader. drowning/suffocating at a metaphor. groping someone while they sleep but no actual sleep smut. unprotected sex, penetrative sex, fingering, oral. body worship n gentle sex. simp!hoshi, tit-lover!hoshi.

you were warm.

soonyoung couldn't help but press ever closer, framing your body in his. he had one of his legs thrown over both of yours, an arm over your waist. and you were so warm, your body heat trapped beneath the blanket, especially compared to the cold winter air that bit at his bare skin as he shifted, exposing the bare skin of his shoulder.

he pressed his face into your neck, eyes fluttering shut as your warm scent flooded his system. you smelled like sleep, like you, like that distinct smell you got when you didn't shower the night before and slept in his arms after a night of love-making.

and soonyoung loved it.

he breathed you in, his hand sliding over your stomach. he mapped out your skin with his hand, feeling the smoothness of your body. soonyoung didn't really get the chance to do this when you were awake. you would get giggly, get bashful; he'd get horny and distracted.

so he took advantage; hand wandering over your warm body, just feeling you as he breathed in against your neck.

his hand ran up your stomach, fingertips skimming the curve of your tit. he paused for a moment, hesitating, knowing what would come if he touched your tit.

but he couldn't help it.

(one of these days soonyoung would get better at impulse control, he swore --

but today was not that day.

you were far too tempting a creature for him to even begin to think of resisting.)

soonyoung's hand traveled up to your tit. he groped at you lightly, thumb sliding over your nipple, pads of his fingers gently pressing at the meat of your tit. he wasn't touching with intent, wasn't doing anything other than just admiring the body of the person who owned him so completely.

(you'd argue against that statement. you didn't own him, you'd refute; he was his own being. soonyoung knew better. he was so completely, utterly, totally yours. he breathed to be yours, he existed to be yours. what was the point in being kwon soonyoung if he couldn't be yours?)

his fingers slid underneath your tit. soonyoung paused. you were slightly sweaty here, from the combination of his body heat with yours being trapped underneath the covers. but you were warm. you were so warm here, underneath your tit, and soonyoung just couldn't help himself.

head empty and cock swelling, soonyoung moved against you. he lowered himself, body completely covered by the blanket. soonyoung pressed his face against the curve of your tits, nosing along the curve of them, eyes fluttering shut as he basked in their warmth.

he slid his hand completely under your tit, fingers sinking into its warmth.

soonyoung laid like that for a handful of minutes, face resting on your tits and hand underneath one of them.

but he grew restless.

so he snuggled closer. he moved his hands from beneath your tits, framing your body. he pressed his face into the valley between your tits, pressing his nose against your warm skin. he was surrounded like this, completely surrounded in you.

soonyoung wished -- childishly -- that he could be a worm. and you would be the earth around him, surrounding him and he'd be entrapped in your being.

no. no, that wouldn't do --

he'd be a flower, soonyoung decided. and you the sun. you were too beautiful, too you to be dirt. he'd be a flower, you the sun, and he'd bask in your warmth.

soonyoung grinned against your skin.

feeling as though his heart was swelling to encompass his entire being, soonyoung moved his face to the right and nosed into the meat of your tit once again. this time he let himself be carried away. soonyoung began pressing kisses to your skin, his lips slightly chapped from the constant kissing of last night.

he didn't care. chapped lips meant nothing when it came to worshipping you.

soonyoung let his lips travel over your breast, his kisses soft. he began to move his body, bracing himself against the bed so he could reach more of your body. soonyoung crouched, blanket bracketing him. goosebumps pebbled on your skin, traveling over the curve of your tits, and soonyoung couldn't have that.

so he moved back down, curling his body. his mouth went back to your tits, his thick thighs framing your hips. soonyoung could feel his cock begin to throb, felt need begin to spark in his gut.

he ran his tongue against your breast, tasting the salt of your sweat. soonyoung pressed a loud and wet kiss to your tit before moving to your nipple, where he then couldn't help but lave his tongue against it.

while soonyoung's mouth worked against your breast, taking care to not be too aggressive as to wake you, his hand began to travel. he sought your warmth once more. this time his hand went to your thighs, smoothing over your skin. and then he tucked his hand between your thighs, not quite wedging it against your cunt but just enough to feel its warmth.

you're so fucking warm. so fucking warm and beautiful, so pliant beneath him. and he wanted. he wanted you carnally, wanted your hot cunt wrapped tight around his dick and milking it. wanted his face buried in your tits while he fucked into you, claiming your body again and again.

he had marked your body last night. soonyoung had left his finger marks on your hips, left bruises in the shape of his mouth on your thighs and neck. he had exhausted you -- even nights where he didn't divulge in his fantasies left you tired due to his seemingly endless stamina.

but soonyoung just couldn't help it. couldn't help himself but want and lust for more and more of you, yearn for that warmth that only your body could give.

so, sweetly and quietly, soonyoung moved his face up your body. he made sure to leave a trail of kisses. once he got to your neck he began sucking, and that was when you finally seemed to begin to wake. you let out soft moans, gentle little noises of pleasure.

he pressed his face into your neck, nose tucked into the hinge of your jaw. you were warm here, too.

"soonyoung," you breathed his name. immediately he couldn't help but begin pressing quick kisses to your skin, giddy as you woke beneath him. you tilted your face, allowing him more access to your neck, but did nothing otherwise.

soonyoung pulled back, watching you. your lashes fluttered against your cheeks, your cute tongue -- the same tongue that had laved against the head of his cock only last night -- poking out to swipe against your bottom lip.

"what're you doing?" your words are muffled slightly from sleep, eyes opening just enough for soonyoung to see your irises.

"loving you," he returned, giving you a grin. to accentuate his words soonyoung pressed a loud kiss to the base of your throat. "what are you doing, baby?"

"sleeping," you mumbled. your eyes opened wider, and soonyoung couldn't help but coo. you were so precious. he could see the universe in your eyes, could see his entire world. "isn't it too early for this?"

soonyoung cocked his head. "it's never too early for loving you, baby."

you scoffed lightly, eyes rolling shut once again.

soonyoung took this as your acceptance. so he moved from your face, letting his body sink further back into the blanket. he kept his mouth on you, face still pressed into your warmth. soonyoung kissed his way to the valley of your breasts, gave each tit attention in the form of kisses and bites and suckles. you moaned beneath him, hands moving from your sides to grab at his shoulders.

finally between your thighs, where he belonged in his humble opinion, soonyoung couldn't help his delight. he pressed his face to your stomach and breathed against you. he was close enough to your cunt that he could smell it.

he moved his free hand to join the one wedged between your thighs. soonyoung hooked his hands underneath your knees and raised them, throwing them over his shoulders.

his hands went back to your cunt. you had one arm thrown over your face, hiding your eyes; you had your lip trapped beneath your teeth.

warm, he thought as he bent closer to the bed. one of his hands slid deeper. he brushed the pads of his fingers along your pussy, just lingering in its warmth.

he moved his fingers up your pussy, circling around your mound. he didn't slip them into your wet heat yet.

you were growing restless beneath him. you squeezed his head between your thighs -- something that made the heat in his gut even worse, made it swell into something like an inferno he wanted to let consume him. "soonyoung," you begged, voice a whine.

soonyoung laughed, wordlessly obeying. he finally slipped his fingers into your cunt. it was wet, practically soaked, and warm. hot.

he let his fingers travel along your crevices aimlessly. let his forefinger glide against your little clit, poke at your hole. he was a musician tuning their instrument, preparing for the orchestra.

soonyoung's name left your mouth again in a whine.

"sorry," he laughed, and the pout you sent his way made him giggle further. soonyoung turned his head, pressing a kiss to your leg. "forgive me, baby?"

"depends," you said.

soonyoung grinned. he would have to make sure to play extra well to get your forgiveness.

so soonyoung moved to lay flat on the bed, face close to your cunt. he was drowning in your smell now, drowning in your warmth.

his mouth found your clit naturally. you tensed beneath him as his lips wrapped around it, suckling. his fingers went to your hole; a gush of wet greeted him, and it was far too easy for him to sink two of his fingers in.

you let out a short moan as his thick fingers breached you. you must have been sore still from the night before, soonyoung realized. so he took care to work you gently, tongue lapping at your clit and slobbering as his fingers crooked ever-deeper.

he sucked and laved his tongue over your clit and fuck, if it wasn't his favorite thing to do. surrounded by your warmth, chin drenched in your juices. if this wasn't his favorite place to be then --

soonyoung withdrew his fingers. the sound of them leaving your pussy was loud and wet. you grimaced, hips bucking up in an eager search. soonyoung made a surprised noise, face still buried in your pussy, your cunt drenching his face further.

"baby!" he scolded you, though his heart wasn't truly in it. he wrapped his arm around your middle, keeping you still. soonyoung pressed the tips of three of his fingers against your hole. you may still be open a bit from last night but soonyoung wanted to make sure you weren't going to be in any pain from him.

there were some times the two of you sought pain. times when you begged for him to hurry, searched for that sting of his fat cock sinking into you. the sharp slap of his hips against your ass, merciless.

this was not that time.

so soonyoung worked his fingers slowly, gently. he was soaked all over. your cunt was wet and warm and he was eagerly drowning in it.

he could tell you were about to orgasm. your cunt tightened and loosened around his fingers quickly. your thighs were flexing against his head, and you were at the point where you were no longer able to try and keep yourself from suffocating him. so he let himself suffocate between your thighs, let himself drown in your cunt as he worked you towards an orgasm.

it wasn't explosive; wasn't a wave crashing against a cliff. instead it was the gentle waves lapping at the beach, pulling you under.

he watched as your chest heaved, as you tried to catch your breath. your nipples were pebbled from the cold air of the room. soonyoung didn't slide his fingers from your pussy until you were blinking down at him, tongue running over your bottom lip before catching it between your teeth.

"you're so beautiful," soonyoung gushed. he brought his fingers, the ones preciously in your pussy, up to his mouth. he suckled at them, letting his eyes flutter shut as he savored your cunt's bitter juice.

soonyoung made his way back up your body. your shoulders were slightly chilled from the bedroom air. soonyoung hated it. you shouldn't ever be cold.

so he kept his body close to yours as he took his hot, aching cock in hand. he kept himself from wrapping his hand around his dick and jerking it in search of relief. his dick was for you, for your pleasure; his spunk was meant for you, for your pussy. to waste it was a sin.

soonyoung slowly breached your body. he had to go slow. he had to stop. his instinct was to buck into you and take you, to mount you. soonyoung was a greedy man; he never pretended otherwise. he wanted to take and take and take you.

instead he covered your body with his, slowly sinking his cock into your cunt. fuck you were warm and tight and wet. his fat cock dragged along your walls as he pulled out, and it took everything within him to not snap his hips forward and bury his dick inside.

instead soonyoung rolled his hips, cock breaching you gently. the stretch of his cock had you bearing your neck to the ceiling, hands sliding into his hair and clenching the strands between your fingers.

he wanted you to pull. wanted you to yank.

but now wasn't the time.

"so pretty," soonyoung moaned out, fully surrounded in your warmth. your cunt was tight around him, clenching. he eventually picked up speed, balls slapping against your ass.

he got lost in you. lost in your warmth, lost in your scent. he tucked his face into your sweaty neck, tongue licking at your skin.

"i want you," he said, voice strained. "want you, baby. want you on my dick, want your tight cunt wrapped around me."

you groaned out his name, thighs tight around his body. your nails scraped at his scalp.

he sunk into you over and over, rolling into you. each thrust was coming home, sinking deep in you. you were so wet and warm and tight, and soonyoung was helpless to do anything other than take.

"you're mine," he said, speaking against your skin. "mine, mine. pussy's mine, tit's mine; all mine. fucking love you, baby. love you. love your tight pussy, love your hot cunt. love you, love you --"

eventually he spilled inside of you, his hot spunk filling your cunt. he cock throbbed, balls clenching. soonyoung marked the inside of you, and his mouth was busy marking the ouside of you as well.

once he was done, soonyoung slowly pulled out. you were sweating now, skin wet to the touch. but you were hot. your neck was hot as he pressed kisses to it; tits were hot as he laved his tongue over your nipples once more. your cunt was hot as he pressed his face against it once more, tongue plunging into your pussy. he couldn't help but groan at the mixture of his cum and your juices.

beneath the blankets, the two of you were trapped in warmth. but he shifted, blanket slipping off and revealing your entire upper body to the cool bedroom air, goosebumps immediately appeared. for all the warmth trapped by the blanket the rest of the room was still cold.

well, soonyoung thought, mouth sucking at the rim of your hole. he would just have to work extra hard to get the room warm.

[flowerkidyjh]

Some of my Favorite Seventeen Fics

s- smut a- angst f- fluff

One shots ~

Beautiful Liar ~ s a f @onlymingyus (Mingyu x f!Reader) (wc: 25.6k)

Crossroads ~ s a f @smileysuh (Kim Mingyu & Jeon Wonwoo x afab!Reader) (wc: 19.8k)

Anteric ~ s a f @smileysuh (Mingyu & Wonwoo x afab!Reader) (wc: 16.6k)

Too much of a good thing ~ s a f @lovelyhan (wonwoo x f!reader x mingyu) (wc: 15.6k)

Favourite ~ s f @simpxxstan (boss!wonwoo x model!mingyu x f.reader) (wc: 15k) (OMG DEF ONE OF MY FAVOURITES)

Always Only You ~ a s f @honeyhotteoks (brothers bestfriend! Cheol) (wc: 14.2k) (FAVORITE)

Good Luck, Fermata Tower ~ s a f @beefboyandbabygirl (fire-lookout!seungcheol x female!fire-lookout!reader) (wc: 13.9k)

Clowns ~ s a f @smileysuh (S.coups & Jeonghan & Joshua & Wonwoo & Mingyu x afab!Reader) (wc: 13.3k) (FAVORITE)

Too Many Beds ~ s @miabebe (Seungcheol x afab!reader) (wc: 13k)

Creep ~ s a f @smileysuh (Mingyu x afab!Reader) (wc: 9.1k) (FAVORITE)

it’s all fun and games ~ s a f @dontflailmenow (Mingyu x fem!Reader) (wc: 8.9k)

Dare You ~ s f @dontflailmenow (bf!Mingyu x fem!Reader) (wc: 6k)

Fuck, Marry, Kill ~ s @bitchlessdino (fem!reader x ex!mingyu x shitstirrer!seungcheol x innocentbystander!wonwoo) (wc: 5.6k) (FAVORITE)

Vices and Virtues ~ s a f @lovelyhan (bodyguard!mingyu x fem!reader) (wc: 5.4k)

Do I Want to Hit You or Do I Just Want You? ~ s a f @dontflailmenow (Mingyu x fem!Reader) (wc: 3.9k)

The cake in the back! ~ s @toruro (dilf! Cheol) (wc: 3.8k)

Baby Fever ~ s @cheolhub (pussy-drunk-bitch-in-heat cheol) (wc: 3.4k)

Control Me ~ s @duhnova (gamerbf! Wonwo) (wc: 3k) (FAVORITE)

rules! “do i make you horny, baby?” ~ s @teeskz (gamer!seungcheol x fem!reader) (wc: 2.7k)

Practice Makes Perfect ~ s f @wongyuseokie (c.s.cxf!reader, j.w.wxf!reader, k.m.gxf!reader) (wc: 2.6k)

In The Dark Corners ~ s @sanakiras (fem!reader x ex!mingyu x bf!seungcheol) (wc: 2.2k)

gamers do it better ~ s @sluttyminghao (c.s.cxf!reader, j.w.wxf!reader) (wc: 2k)

On My Worst Behavior ~ s @sluttywoozi (rough Vernon) (wc: 0.6k)

Popsicle ~ s @loupetlapinn (Mingyu x fem!reader (wc: idk)

𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐚̀ 𝐝𝐞𝐮𝐱 ~ s @loupetlapinn (Seungcheol & Wonwoo & Mingyu x fem!reader) (wc: idk)

Series ~

Challenge Me ~ s a @seokgyuu (Pairing: OT13 x afab!Reader) (All Separate) (Total wc: 94k) (10000/10) (FAVORITE) (Messy to say the least)

ice cold, cabin fever ~ s a f @smileysuh (Seungcheol & Mingyu x afab!Reader) (wc: 25.9k) (FAVORITE) (Part 2)

Hits Different (…’cause it’s you) ~ s a f @gyuswhore (brothers bestfriend! Mingyu x Fem!reader) (wc: 20.2k) (FAVORITE) (Emotional to say the least)

Bloodily Safe ~ s a @starlightxsvt (psychopath!wonwoo x fem!Reader) (wc: 18.5k) (Game On! pt2 : 6k)

Push It Down ~ s a f @dontflailmenow (ex bf’s bestfriend! Cheol) (pt 5(last part) (wc: 16.6k)

Getting Closer ~ s a f @milfgyuu (Wonwoo x Fem!reader x Mingyu) (pt 1: 10.8k)

Cat & Mouse ~ s f @wonusite (bad boy au; Wonwoo) (pt 2: 5.6k)

After Class ~ s f @rubyreduji (professor! Cheol) (pt 1: 1.6k) (4 parts in all)

⭐️Last Update: 08/21/2024⭐️

[flowerkidyjh]

newhusband!hoshi headcannons

newhusband!hoshi who really doesn't see how the honeymoon stage is just a stage, he's confident it's going to be like this for the rest of his life

newhusband!hoshi who knew he wanted to marry you from the very first date, he still remembers every detail of your appearance, your hair, the dress you wore, the color of your nails, etc.

newhusband!hoshi who called his mother after that date and told her all about you

newhusband!hoshi who still gets nervous around you, fumbling with his hands and feeling the beat of his heart in his chest pick up when you walk into a room

newhusband!hoshi who has so many hopes and aspirations for the life you're going to build together

newhusband!hoshi who rests his head on your lap when you're laying on the couch so you can play with his hair

newhusband!hoshi who cooks for you and handwashes the dishes with a smile on his face

newhusband!hoshi whose hands start sweating when he reads the little love notes you pack in his lunch when he's at work

newhusband!hoshi who wants to give you the world and so much more

newhusband!hoshi who begs you to ride his face and laps your wet cunt with his tongue desperately when you finally give in

newhusband!hoshi who holds you by your plush thighs and moans out loud when you sink down onto his face

newhusband!hoshi who always fucks you with love and passion in his every kiss and neediness and desperation in his every movement

newhusband!hoshi who is very vocal in bed, he's not shy whatsoever and wants you to know how good you make him feel

newhusband!hoshi who prefers to do all the work, but never opposes when you want to let him sit back and bounce on his cock until he can't take it anymore

newhusband!hoshi who jumps in to take over when you're tired, laying you down and pounding you without his pace faltering, fixated on pleasuring you as much as possible

newhusband!hoshi who accidentally makes you squirt and kisses your ankle when you hide your face in embarrassment

newhusband!hoshi who assures you that there's nothing to be embarrassed about and and confesses how much it actually turned him on

newhusband!hoshi who is completely and utterly consumed by the love he has for you

_______________________________________________

© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.

[flowerkidyjh]

seventeen nsfw links pt2

movie nights with seungcheol always end ith sex

not wearing your panties to jeonghan let touch you when he likes

your body cant help but react to masseur joshua's skillful hands until you give up your ethics and let him fuck you

junhui touching you in the backstage bathroom before his conert because you are just so needy for him and cant wait 3 hours for him

soonyoung wants to fuck you in every surface of his new home

wonwoo edging your cunt as a punishment for disturbing him at work

you won't stop distracting woozi in his studio so he decided to take matters into his own hands

seokmin needs to hold you up with his strong arms while you ride him when your body can uphold the pleasure

showering with mingyu so you can play with his dick and let him fuck you against the bathroom tiles

minghao has a dirty mouth and just loves degrading you while you ride him out

obedient boyfriend seungkwan won't cum unless his mommy allows him to

vernon lets you how much he loves you dressing up for him but letting you ride his face

its your 5th round and you're so tired but chan just can't have enough of you.

[flowerkidyjh]

svt & nsfw links !

genre; nsfw, contains porn links from twitter, mdni <3 | a/n; wanted to this after seeing the gaming vid i linked wonu. don't like it? don't interact. not tagging cause idk if some will be comfy with this. sorry! otherwise, enjoy <333

mean dom! cheol who loves fucking the attitude out of you.

cheol who loves making your whole body tremble with his hands.

big dick! cheol who loves seeing the bulge on your stomach while fucking you

horny mornings with jeonghan but he's too lazy to fuck you

jeonghan likes to fuck you when spooning

meanie! joshua riling up his princess

joshua admiring you as you ride him

jun who couldn't resist himself seeing you in that tiny ass skirt.

mutual masturbation with jun

how drunk, needy sex with soonyoung goes.

soonyoung proving his pull-out game to you.

horribly failing a bet you had with gamer bf! wonwoo

rough fucking with wonwoo on the countertop while the food cooks.

riding jihoon's thighs as he works in the studio

jihoon helping his pretty girl ride him

minghao prepping you for his cock

minghao making out with your pussy and worshipping your body.

mingyu fingering his impatient passenger princess who's so horny.

giving mingyu a good ride

seokmin who tries fucking you in doggy but he needs to have your lips on his while he fucks you.

how study sessions with seokmin go.

seungkwan likes to suck on your tits as you ride him

seungkwan worshipping your body before sex

riling up vernon during a movie has pleasant consequences.

sucking on your tits during foreplay is a must for bf! vernon

bf! chan who cums right away when you thigh fuck him

teasing chan while wearing the panties he gifted you

[flowerkidyjh]

drew starkey short films

The Radical Notion of Gene Mutation

Extended Stay

The Love Note

The Family Portrait

13 Going In Blind

Bounds

VIRGO (ft. Rudy Pankow and Elaine Siemek)

[flowerkidyjh]

this is too cute hdkshdbdnsb

such a brat: crazy love blurb - rafe cameron

"What about pink?"

"Salmon, baby, and no," Rafe groans.

He has decided that allowing you to come shopping with him has been a grave mistake. Although he had promised that you could pick out some shirts for him, since he so kindly ruined the white one you love so much, he's starting to get frustrated.

"Fine," you grumble, running your hands over the different options. Rafe's too busy holding onto the five others you've decided on for him to pay any more mind to what you're looking at.

"Look at this one!" you hold up a pastel purple, "Oh, Rafe, this would look so good on you."

"I think we have enough here," he holds up the stack in his hand as proof.

"With the amount of golf you play, you can never have enough," you tell him.

He groans and steps over to you, observing the color. He actually likes it, but he's afraid to tell you because he knows you'll get extremely overexcited and then make him buy four of them.

"Do they have my size?" he asks, trying not to sound too invested.

"Right here," you hold it up.

"Fine, add it to the stack," he rolls his eyes.

"Can you not act like this is extremely painful for you? I know you like what I've picked out, otherwise you'd never hold onto them."

Rafe laughs at the way you can see straight through him, then wraps his free hand around your waist and pulls you to him. Laying a quick kiss on your temple, you melt and smile.

"You're right, I'm sorry. These are going to be my favorite ones to wear because you picked them out for me," he whispers against your skin.

"Aw, look at you, Tin Man. You do have a heart in there!" you tease, poking at his chest just to get under his skin.

"All right, we're done," he grabs ahold of your hand, dragging you toward the front of the store to check out.

"I'm just teasing," you grumble, feeling like a little kid the way he's pulling you.

"We need to get out of here before you max out my black card," he mutters.

"Oh, black card. Excuse me, Kook Prince," you laugh incredulously.

He spins around suddenly, causing you to walk into his chest. His grip tightens around your hand as he stares down at you with a raised eyebrow, like he's daring you to continue.

"I'm not sure where this little attitude of yours came from, but I have to tell you, baby, I'm not a huge fan," he breathes.

Judging by the way he's looking at you, you certainly think the opposite. You're getting him worked up, you can tell. You just smirk, wanting to see how far you can take this.

"Jeez, I'm so sorry, handsome. Is there anything I can do-" you stand on your tip-toes and hold your lips about one inch from his, "-to make it up to you?"

"Fuck," he backs away from you, shaking his head, "You really always have to play. We're in public."

You smile triumphantly as he starts toward the front again, practically throwing the shirts at the cashier. He starts asking Rafe questions, if he found everything okay, to which Rafe just mumbles out a halfhearted 'yes'.

You, however, are really ready to mess with him. Pulling your hand from his grip, you start trailing your pointer finger up and down the side of his torso. When you reach his belt loop, you tuck your finger in it and pull lightly.

"Stop," Rafe grunts at you, not bothering to look over.

You frown, then look over to the cashier, who is refolding the pastel purple shirt to bag it up.

"Don't you think that will look great on him?" you ask the cashier, "He has these gorgeous blue eyes-"

"Don't talk to him," Rafe swats your hand off the counter, "Sorry. She's in a mood today."

"They're all good selections, Mr. Cameron," the cashier says politely.

"Thank you!" you say, throwing your hands up at Rafe as if to say you told him so. Rafe just shakes his head, swearing under his breath.

"You're all set. Have a great day, Mr. Cameron."

Rafe nods his head, tucking his wallet back in his pants and then taking the bag from him. You smile and wave to the cashier as Rafe takes ahold of you again, tugging you toward the exit.

"Baby," he groans the second you two walk back out into the North Carolina humidity, "You cannot try to get me all riled up like that when we're in public. You know it doesn't take much from you to get me...you know."

You giggle, looking up and seeing his pink cheeks.

"Sorry, Mr. Cameron," you grin. He just shakes his head at you once again, muttering under his breath about how you're 'such a brat'.

He loosens his grip on your hand but doesn't let go, not until he puts you into the truck. He climbs into the driver's side and then opens up the bag, inspecting his purchases more closely.

"You really like them?" you ask him.

He looks from the shirts up to you, leaning over and wrapping his large hand around your throat to pull you close to him. He lays a couple quick kisses on your lips, then smiles.

"I love them," he gushes, "I'll be sure to tell the boys at the course that my girlfriend picked them out for me."

You laugh loudly, "You're not really going to tell them that."

It's a statement, only because you know him so well. He chuckles, shoving the shirts back into the bag.

"Probably not," he agrees, "I'd get my ass kicked before we even step out onto the course."

You laugh, leaning over to kiss him one more time. Normally, he'd just give you your kisses and then let you sit back, but he's frustrated with all the teasing you did in the shop. He deepens your kiss and lets his hands roam your body the best he can in your current position, trying his best to get you turned on with the options he has.

"Are we about to have sex in your truck for the third time this week?" you snicker against his lips as his fingers fiddle with the button on your jeans.

"Hmm," he hums, sliding his fingers into your jeans and underwear.

He grazes your core with his fingers, waiting for his perfect moment. You moan against his lips, trying to move around so he'll take your hint. When he doesn't, you speak.

"Please," you whimper.

He wants to give in, he really does, just based on that one word alone. But, he knows he has to be stronger than that. He kisses you one more time, then extracts himself completely from your body and starts the truck up.

"Rafe," you speak, looking at him as if to ask 'what the fuck?'.

"Buckle up, baby, I don't want you getting hurt," he smirks.

"Are you serious?" you grumble, throwing your head back against the seat.

You huff and puff as you button your jeans up again, Rafe making it clear he had just been teasing you. You cross your arms over your chest like a teenager mad at her parent and huff once more.

"Come on," Rafe laughs, reaching over to uncross your arms.

"That was mean," you pout.

"I'll make it up to you at the house," he promises, setting his hand on your thigh like he always does.

"So..." you trail off, watching the dirty smirk appear on his face.

"Yes," he nods.

"A fashion show modeling your new shirts?" you gasp.

"Hell no."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please, handsome."

"Baby."

"Please?"

"Fine."

Tags: @hollandsour @flowerkidlxrry @kookkyra @pogueslandia @sarahwasfound @sydmetry @fuzzyhumanpersontrash @rafecameronn @cmaisano14 @kaysturnt @rafeswh0ree @estacticheart @outerbankies @morganwilliams

[flowerkidyjh]

Source: This

[flowerkidyjh]

can’t handle too much fluff 😭😭 I really loved this series, thank you!!! ❤️❤️

crazy love (part 10) - rafe cameron

ma/n: ahhh okay this is it!!! im super sad but i already have so a couple blurbs written so it's not totally over! thank you all for all of your support with this story <3. this part is a lil shorter than the others, sorry about that (not my gif).

Summary: You and Rafe plan your future together, and you convince Rafe it will work out no matter what.

Warnings: swearing, suggestive content, slight mention of drug use

Word Count: 3.2k

series masterlist

my writing

"Are you sure we should do this right now?"

"Yes, Rafe."

"But- we don't even know where you're going, yet. This is pointless."

"It's not pointless. It's your future."

"I'm more concerned about our future."

"You don't get out of this by being sweet."

"Fuck."

You roll your eyes and adjust your position on Rafe's lap, which makes him swear again. He had asked you to help him fill out a bunch of college applications, but he seemed to only not be fussy about applying to the ones you had already applied to.

"Okay," you huff, ignoring his fingers as they tuck themselves underneath the bottom of your shorts, "Do you want me to put business as your major on this one, too?"

"I guess," he shrugs.

You sigh and type it in. You lean forward, feeling your back start to cramp up, which makes you move against Rafe's lap. He groans softly behind you, moving his hands up to your hips to steady you.

"Baby, please stop moving. Respectfully."

You smirk and bite your lip, but obey. You scroll down on his fifth application, knowing it's only a matter of minutes before he will ask you to give up on this. Both of you glance up when Ward walks into the kitchen, you instantly feeling uncomfortable with your seat in front of your boyfriend's dad.

"Y/N, hello. I didn't know you were here," Ward gives you a gentle smile as he steps over to the fridge.

"Afternoon, Mr. Cameron," you greet.

You haven't seen Ward since the night of the party, and you had intentionally been avoiding him. It's been weeks now, but still hasn't become any less awkward. He doesn't seem phased by it, however, because he doesn't seem to be acting any different toward you than before.

"What are you two doing?" Ward asks absentmindedly.

Rafe tightens his grip around you waist, anxious about telling his dad what you two are doing. It had been you who convinced Rafe to send out applications, to have faith in himself and believe that he could get in somewhere. You turn your head and look at Rafe, giving him an encouraging smile.

"Um," Rafe starts, earning Ward's attention, "I'm applying to some schools, Dad."

Ward's eyes widen as he moves his glance from Rafe to you. He's sure Rafe didn't come to this conclusion all by himself, which is how Ward knows you're better for his son than he ever thought.

"Wow," Ward breathes, "Rafe, that's wonderful. What schools?"

Your face flushes, hoping it doesn't come up that they've all been schools you're thinking about, too. You know how adults feel about that, and you really don't think it would be good for Rafe to get that lecture right now.

"Georgia, UNC, USC, Duke."

Ward smiles widely, giving his nod of approval to his son. His eyes glance over to you, only briefly, but he hopes you catch his look. You do.

"That's fantastic. I'm sure you'll get in to all of them," Ward encourages.

"Yeah," Rafe grunts, moving his hands down to your thighs. You're thankful that Ward can't see from his side of the kitchen.

"What about you, Y/N? What schools are you thinking about?"

You look up at him and smile, debating silently what your best course of action is. Rafe moves forward, pressing his chest against your back.

"UNC," you reply, holding back the three others.

"Great school," Ward nods encouragingly.

"Yes, sir," you agree.

Rafe sighs audibly, signaling that he would like his father to leave now. Ward holds his hands up, as if to say he gets it, and picks his drink up from the counter.

"Anything I can do to help?" he asks, already inching toward the doorway.

"I've got everything I need right here, Dad," Rafe says quickly, grip tightening around your thighs.

You can't help but smile as you feel your cheeks heat up. Ward just smiles, giving you one final nod as a 'thank you' before he disappears. Rafe groans the second Ward is gone, throwing his head down on your back.

"That went well," you say to him, meaning it.

"I'm sure you'll get into all of them," Rafe mocks his dad, "I mean, what's he going to do when I get rejected from them all? Pay for a new library and buy my acceptance?"

"Rafe," you turn against him quickly, ignoring him groan that you're moving in his lap once more, "Don't say that. You're going to get in. Your GPA is good and your test scores are high-"

"That means fuck all when they ask what I've been doing for the past year. How do I write, 'Uh, working for my dad and getting high off my ass in my spare time'."

"They're not going to ask you that," you sigh, reaching up and stroking his cheek.

"Yeah? What if they do?" he grumbles, more or less loving the sweet look on your face.

"Then you tell them," you smirk, "That you've been a little wrapped up loving on a girl from the Cut. And as much as she loves you back, you're focusing on getting your shit together, now."

Rafe smiles, heart melting at your words. He leans forward and kisses you, first on your lips, then moving to your cheek.

"Can I focus on something else for a little bit?" he asks, his voice low as he moves down to your neck. You sigh and want to give in, but turn at the last second back to his laptop. Rafe groans, steadying your hips on his lap once again.

"Let's finish App State first," you tell him.

He grumbles and gripes while you type for him, attaching his transcripts and test scores to his application. You look over it one more time, verifying all of his information before you submit it.

"Which one do you think we'll end up attending?" he whispers, lips attaching themselves to your shoulder.

He had told you when you came over that he'd make you put a sweatshirt on if you started to distract him too much, and that it wasn't fair he had to think about school when you're dressed like that. You had just rolled your eyes, and chosen not to tell him about the way he gives you butterflies when he says things like that to you.

You pretend his little 'we' doesn't phase you, even though your stomach turns with excitement, "I don't know."

He smiles against your skin, "Whichever one you want, I suppose."

You bite your lip to contain your smile, pretending to be too focused on the computer screen to soak in his words. Really, your mind is going a mile a minute as you imagine how you'll decorate the apartment you and Rafe will share.

You hover the cursor over the submit button, checking off in your head everything you were trying to remember to put on there. Rafe groans and reaches over your shoulder, clicking the button before you can think any more about it.

"Rafe!" you whine, staring at the large, green check mark on the screen.

"There. All done," he smiles triumphantly, moving you around on his lap so you're facing him.

"Could you, like, not be horny for five seconds, please? What if I missed something?"

"Then I'm not going to App State, I guess," he shrugs, "Come here."

You sigh and shake your head, but allow him to grab ahold of your neck and pull you to him. He kisses you, soft and sweet at first, as a thank you for helping him with his applications. After a minute, he moves his head and deepens your kiss, letting his hands roam your body.

"Um."

You both break away quickly, you turning around to see a surprised Wheezie standing beside the island. Rafe groans loudly, not being able to contain his frustration from his family not leaving the two of you alone.

"Hey, Wheezie," you say shyly.

"Hi."

You attempt to crawl off of Rafe's lap, but his grip is too strong and you aren't able to break away. He's too busy burning holes in his sister's head to notice your glance.

"Wheeze, don't you have, like, homework or something?" Rafe grumbles at her, flicking his eyes to the doorway when she looks at him.

"It's Saturday, Rafe."

Rafe mutters a string of curse words under his breath, which makes you squirm uncomfortably in his lap. You don't like him swearing in front of Wheezie, even though you know she's heard his mouth before.

"A girl scout meeting, then?" he questions, irritation heavy in his voice.

"I'm thirteen."

"They don't - how old are girl scouts?" Rafe asks, making you laugh.

"Forget it, baby," you whisper to him, then turn back to his sister, "How's school going, Wheezie?"

"Good," she nods, still uncomfortable with the current situation.

"Well, we're going upstairs if you're just gonna plant yourself in the middle of the kitchen," Rafe grumbles. He pushes you up slightly, making you stand and wait while he collects his laptop and stands with you.

"I'm baking," Wheezie defends, "Cupcakes."

"Who cares," Rafe mutters under his breath, earning a swat on the chest from you. You look up at Wheezie and can tell she didn't hear him, which you're thankful for.

"I bet they'll be delicious," you smile at her.

She smiles back, reaching up into the cabinets to collect the flour and sugar. Rafe sighs, feeling guilty for his previous comment.

"Call us down when they're done, okay, Wheeze?" he says, trying to earn a smile out of his little sister.

"I will," she assures.

You give her another smile and then take Rafe's hand, leading him upstairs to his room. You collapse on his bed the second you two step inside, watching as he sets his laptop on his desk before stepping over to you.

"Didn't mean to be a dick to Wheezie," he mumbles, "Just mad I can't kiss you in my own house for longer than five seconds without being interrupted."

"I don't think she heard you, anyway," you assure him.

He nods his head and settles in on top of you, placing his head on your chest and leading your hand to his back. You'd normally protest scratching his back, or at least setting a time limit, because once you start, he never lets you stop. But, given how stressful you know applying to schools had been for him, you do it without protest.

"Just imagine how many kisses we'll have when we go off to school," you say quietly, looking down to see his eyes closed and a soft smile on his face.

"Not damn near enough," he mumbles. You can feel his breath through the fabric of your shirt, warming your stomach.

"Hmm," you hum, "We'll just have to try."

He snickers, sliding his hands underneath your shirt and letting your skin warm them up. You two lay like that for a while, letting your eyes close as you relax with Rafe on you. You swear you could fall asleep, sure Rafe has, too, when he speaks up.

"I swear," he mumbles.

"What?"

"I swear, even if I don't get into any of those goddamn schools," Rafe pauses when you move a hand to his hair, scratching his head, "This is all I want out of life. You're all I want out of life. So, I'm good. College will just be the cherry on top of all this."

"Rafe," you whine, swearing you could cry at his sweet words.

"Mean it," he whispers, "We'll make a good little lives for ourselves and have babies and I'll buy you anything you want-"

"A yacht?" you joke, laughing lightly against him.

"Anything," he repeats.

"Okay," you agree, smiling widely as you think about those 'good little lives'.

You never pegged Rafe Cameron to be someone who dreams of having a sweet little family and a nine-to-five job. It doesn't stop the way your stomach turns out of excitement, though.

"Where will we live, then, Mr. Cameron?" you ask him playfully.

"Here," he answers quickly, "Because my job will probably be here. I'll have to work for my dad forever if I don't get in-"

"You'll get in, Rafe," you assure him, voice harsher than it has been before. Rafe stays quiet at first, choosing to speak only after a few minutes of silence.

"Then we'll live wherever you want. It'll have to be close to Macy and Wheezie, though. I have a feeling they'll need us around."

You smile, feeling him smile, too, "Will we have a dog?"

Rafe sits up, looking up at you with playfully annoyed eyes. You stare back at him with raised eyebrows, waiting on him to explain his expression.

"How many times do I have to say it?" he huffs, "Whatever you want, baby girl."

You grin and nod your head, completely accepting his answer and allowing him to lay his head back on down on you again. Rafe's phone buzzes on the nightstand next to you, making him groan once more.

"Will you see who that is?" he whines.

You reach over and pick up his phone, smiling at the picture of you in Rafe's bed that he had taken while you had been sleeping. The first time you had seen it, you had groaned and told him it was inappropriate, and what if someone saw it, to which he replied, 'they'll probably be jealous as hell, then'." Now, it just makes you smile.

"Wheezie says she's done with the cupcakes," you tell him, setting his phone back down.

"Fuck, all right," Rafe sighs, crawling off of you and standing up, "Let's go, pretty girl."

Your acceptance letters to Duke and UNC come two weeks later. You had been nervous as hell to open them, and Rafe had been nervous as hell that he hadn't heard a thing from any school since you two applied for him. 'Of course you got in, baby', was Rafe's response to each, accompanied by a very long kiss and him letting you choose what you two had for dinner to celebrate.

You two wait another agonizing two weeks, until one night, Rafe gasps at the screen of his laptop. You're laying on his bed, watching your show on Rafe's TV, but sit up at his sudden noise.

"What is it?" you ask him.

He turns to look at you, an expression on his face you've never seen before. You stand up and walk over to him, crawling into his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck before he can even say anything.

"UNC," he whispers, hands gripping onto your waist like his life depends on it.

"Open it," you smile at him.

"I can't," he shakes his head rapidly, eyes filled to the brim with fear.

"Hey," you tilt his chin up, forcing him to look at you, "Whatever that says. We'll deal with it."

"God, baby," he leans his head down on your shoulder.

"Do you want me to open it?"

He just nods as best he can against your shoulder, not bothering to pick his head up. You reach around and move his laptop to the edge of his desk so he doesn't have to move from his position.

You look at Rafe's email account, staring at the email that had come in from UNC an hour ago. You two probably would've seen it earlier if you hadn't been distracting Rafe with the cute outfit you wore to dinner. Sending once last glance to your sweet boy, you let your shaky hand move the cursor over the email. You're nervous, of course you're nervous, because you know he wants this more than anything.

"Jesus, did you open it yet?" he asks, then immediately follows with, "I didn't get in. Oh, God-"

"I haven't opened it, handsome. Relax."

"What the hell are you waiting on, baby?"

His word encourage you, and just as he snuggles himself even closer into you, you read the word.

Congratulations.

"Holy shit," you whisper.

Rafe's head shoots up from your shoulder, looking at you before he looks over at the screen. His jaw falls open slightly as he stares at it, rereading the email twice before he speaks.

"I- it says 'Rafe Cameron' at the top, right?" he asks, reaching over and scrolling to the top of the screen.

"Yes!" you cheer, "Of course it does, handsome! Oh, my God, Rafe, I told you! I'm so proud of you."

"Fuck, I-" he shakes his head at the screen, taking a deep breath.

"Rafe," you move his head so he's looking at you, "You did it. You're in."

"We did it," he whispers, "Both of us."

You smile and kiss him, making yourself more comfortable in his lap as he kisses you back.

"I'm hanging that up on my wall," he points to the screen, breaking your kiss only long enough to speak.

"You should," you nod, meeting his lips again.

"Wait, wait," he pulls away after a few minutes, the only light in the screen being the TV now that his screen has gone black.

"What?"

"Are we- I mean, UNC, and you and me-"

"Yes," you stop him.

Rafe smiles before he can help it, his mind going right back to the night he had asked you to be his girlfriend and you kept interrupting him to say yes before he could even get the question out.

"Baby, you have to let me ask you."

"Fine."

"I don't have any flowers this time," he frowns, hands roaming shamelessly up and down your legs.

"I'll live," you shake your head.

"All right," he starts, taking a deep breath, "While I realize we're extremely young and you haven't even graduated high school, I would really love it if-"

"Yes."

"Baby."

"Sorry."

"Could we, like, go to UNC together and get an apartment and start on that good little life we've been dreaming of?"

You bite your lip to hide a smile as you meet his eyes, running your hand through his hair. He's grinning up at you, already imagining how great it will be to be able to kiss you when he wants, where he wants, and however long he wants.

"Can I think about it?"

"No."

His voice is harsh and demanding, but you can still see the ends of his lips trying not to turn up into a smirk. You smile and give him a gentle kiss, then lean back.

"Okay," you sigh, "I guess we could make that happen. Unless, of course, I get a better offer."

Rafe laughs incredulously and shakes his head, "You won't."

"So cocky, Rafe Cameron," you smile, giving him another kiss.

When you lean back, you start to daydream. What your apartment will look like, the area rug you want to get for the living room, the shelves Rafe will probably have to install for your picture frames and fake plants.

"What?" he notices the look on your face, then sits back and sighs, "You're thinking about color schemes, aren't you?"

"Rose will have to help me decorate," you say quickly.

Rafe groans but can't help the smile breaking out across his face. You can't help your hands roaming his chest.

"Whatever you want, baby girl. Whatever you want."

Tags: @hollandsour @flowerkidlxrry @kookkyra @pogueslandia @sarahwasfound @sydmetry @fuzzyhumanpersontrash @rafecameronn @cmaisano14 @kaysturnt @rafeswh0ree @estacticheart @outerbankies @morganwilliams

[flowerkidyjh]

“𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐭, 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐭”

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝘳𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵 18+ [ 𝘥𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨; 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨?; 𝘬𝘯𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺; 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥; 𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘭, 𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨; 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨; 𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨; 𝘤𝘶𝘮 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺; 𝘥𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬 ]

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝘳𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘩𝘦𝘳.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.8𝘒

𝐚/𝐧: 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴! 𝘪 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘭𝘥, 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺!

𝘨𝘪𝘧 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦

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[flowerkidyjh]

I feel this in my soul

[flowerkidyjh]

I AM SO INVESTED LITERALLY STOPPED WHAT I WAS DOING TO READ THIS! it’s so goood this might have been my favorite part 😍😍😍

crazy love (part 8) - rafe cameron

a/n: okay hi this one is all over the place but it's the best i can make it so if you hate it im sorry. next part will be up monday 9/20 ! (not my gif)

Summary: You choose to do what you think is best for Rafe. Even if it isn't.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, mentions of drugs, violence (kinda? just a shove) Kiara being a bitch and Topper being an asshole

Word Count: 6.2k

series masterlist

my writing

You can't stop staring at the Instagram post Rafe made from the party. He posted pictures last night after you fell asleep in his bed, and is now snoozing comfortably beside you as you hold back the impulse to cry. The first one is a photo Sarah snapped of the two of you, both smiling and happy with Rafe's hand tucked dangerously low on your back. The second is a selfie you took of the two of you in Rafe's truck, Rafe had flipped off the camera and grumbled, but leaned over and attacked your cheek with kisses at the last second. The third is a picture of just you, cheesy smile plastered across your face underneath the string lights.

The caption makes you want to cry the most, because you know Rafe is new to all of this 'relationship' stuff and is only acting on how he really feels.

Next time she looks this good will be our wedding.

You eyes fill with tears, again, as you glance over at him sleeping. He's facing you, arm tucked under his head, bare chest poking out from under the covers. His mouth is parted slightly and every so often, he lets out a little snore. You take a picture of him, because you just can't help it, then set your phone down and snuggle close to him as best you can.

Even in his sleep, it seems Rafe can sense you. He moves flat on his back and moves his arm up to the pillows, opening up a perfectly sized gap for you to lay in. You cuddle your face into the crook of his neck and leave a kiss there, because his skin is so warm and inviting and you love him too much not to. You've been so sure that he's asleep that his voice makes you jump.

"You better be trying to get me hard, otherwise we're gonna have a problem."

You pull your head back and look at him, finding his eyes to still be closed and how, if he hadn't just spoken, you'd think he was still asleep. He brings his arm around to your back, brushing his fingertips against you.

"Good morning, Mr. Cameron," you tease him, leaving a kiss on his bare chest. He tries to pull his smile down by biting his cheek, but you still see it. He still hasn't opened his eyes.

"You have to stop with that," he mumbles.

"I will if you open your eyes," you say, resting your chin on his chest as you crawl completely on top of him. He smiles again, but doesn't obey just yet.

"I would like to sleep some more, pretty girl."

"Fine," you sigh, "I guess I'll just have to shower by myself. Might even have to look at those pictures I have of you from the golf course if I need to-"

"You're not getting yourself off to a picture of me when I'm right here," he grunts.

You giggle when he tries to reach for you and you pull back, making him groan. You know he's teasing you now by not opening up his eyes, so you change your approach. You lean back down and kiss along his jawline, moving his chin up so you have more skin to work with on his neck. He moans very softly, but you hear it.

"Open up those eyes for me, handsome," you whisper against his skin, "We can do anything you want. Just want to see those pretty blue eyes I love so much."

Rafe grins and pulls you back, making you smile as you watch his eyes flutter open. Your laugh is victorious as you lean over and give him a kiss.

"Only because you love them," he smiles, "I'm a sucker, apparently."

"I already knew that," you tease him.

He just shakes his head, running his hands up and down the length of your thighs as you straddle his chest. He looks up at you and grins, unable to believe he gets to wake up to you like this.

"So," you start again, running the base of your fingers along his chest, "We're getting married?"

Rafe looks up at you in confusion, and when he realizes you're referring to his Instagram post, his cheeks flush red. You giggle, loving the effect you have on him.

"I hope so," he replies, voice more serious than yours had been. You bite your lip as you look down at him, watching as he stares at you relentlessly.

You know anyone outside the two of you would think this conversation is crazy; crazy that you two would even be discussing a wedding after such a short amount of time. However, you see no problem in daydreaming about it with Rafe. It's not like it's hurting anyone.

You lean down and give him one more quick kiss, "All right, go back to sleep. I'm gonna go start some coffee."

"Some for me, please," he says as you slide off of him.

Rafe repositions himself under the blankets while you slide on his boxers and then grab a shirt out of his dresser. You walk past all the clothes on the floor you two had shed off last night, your beautiful dress now wrapped up in Rafe's jacket and pants on the floor.

You walk down the stairs, trying to be as quiet as you can and hoping nobody else is awake. Once you reach the kitchen, you exhale a sigh of relief at not having to make small talk with anyone while you make coffee. After how embarrassed you were about Kiara and the fact that Ward knew about you and Rafe fucking in the bathroom, you're not sure you can ever face him again.

You step over to the sink to fill the coffee pot with water when you hear a knock on the glass doors off the kitchen. You look up to see Topper, who looks very hung over and very annoyed to be seeing you. You frown and set the coffee pot in the sink, then step over to let Topper in the house.

"Hey," you greet when you pull the door open, "You feeling okay?"

"Little hungover," he replies, stepping in the house.

"Yeah, I'm surprised Rafe's not," you reply, "Coffee?"

"Uh, no," Topper shakes his head, "Yeah, he's probably not hung over because he spent the whole night running around with you."

Your head snaps up from the coffee pot filling in the sink as you wonder what Topper's really trying to say. The hint of attitude in his voice is enough to tell you something's there.

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing, just an observation," Topper shrugs.

You frown, choosing not to respond. You turn your back to him and step to the coffee machine, pouring the water inside.

"So, was it your idea for him to bail on golf this morning?"

You take a deep breath and finish what you're doing before you turn to Topper again. He's staring at you, looking much different than the way he had looked at you last night.

"I didn't know he even had plans to golf this morning, Topper."

Topper chuckles, but something about it seems sarcastic, "Oh, okay. I just thought he told you everything."

"Look, if you're just hungover and grumpy-"

"I'm not just anything," he interrupts you, "I'm annoyed that my best friend has completely switched up on me over some girl he fucks. I mean, come on, Y/N, you have to realize this is just another fling to him. He says he's trying to get clean, he says he's trying to get better, but once that ship sails without him, and he's left in the dust, you're the first thing he's gonna bail out on. He'll run back to the coke and the parties and the girls-"

"You're wrong, Topper," you shake your head, crossing your arms, "It's different now."

"Yeah?" he laughs again, "Did he tell you about how he slept on my couch almost every day for the past few months because he was too coked out to even function? Or about all the girls he fucked in my bed?"

"No, but-"

"Exactly," Topper says triumphantly, "So you're telling me you honestly think that when he falls flat on his face with this job or getting clean, that he's not gonna run right back to all of that? And which one of us will be there when he does?"

"If you're suggesting that I would leave him just because he was struggling-" you start, but Topper shakes his head and holds his hand up to stop you.

"You did it once before, Y/N. That's how he got so bad. I'm just trying to protect him here. You can make me out to be the bad guy all you want, but-"

"Baby? You down here?"

You glance up at Topper at the sound of Rafe's voice. He gives you a patronizing shrug of the shoulders.

"Just put him first, Y/N. It's what you do when you love someone," Topper mutters, then stands from his chair.

Rafe enters the kitchen before you can tell Topper he doesn't know shit about what happened to the two of you last time. Rafe looks at you, then over to Topper, trying to figure out what's going on.

"Hey, man," Topper looks to Rafe, smiling and pretending like everything's fine.

You turn back to the coffee machine, which is almost finished. Thank God. You pull one mug from the cabinet, deciding it will be for Rafe and you will be leaving.

"Yo, Top," Rafe steps over, dapping Topper up.

"You never showed at the course this morning, bro. Got worried."

Rafe lets out a groan and steps over to you, his back to Topper, and sets his hands on your hips. He leans around and gives you a kiss on the cheek. You don't react, but you don't pull away, either. You just reach for the coffee pot and start pouring.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Rafe turns back to his friend, "Didn't really feel like getting up and out after last night. I kinda figured you'd bail, too."

"Nah. I don't bail on you and Kelce."

"Well, not now that you and Sarah are broken up."

You scoff, wondering how Topper turned into such a massive hypocrite. You credit it to the fact that he must be bitter about his breakup, which is why he's taking it out on you.

Rafe turns to you right as you turn around to the boys, then hold the mug out for Rafe to take. He accepts it and holds his arm out for you, but you shake your head.

"I think I'm gonna head out," you announce, ignoring the smirk on Topper's face.

"What? Why?" Rafe asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

"I promised Macy I'd help her with some things," you lie, allowing yourself to send Topper a look. He just grins and nods his head, telling you he approves of your fib.

"What things?"

Rafe could tell something had been off when he entered the kitchen, and he knows you have no plans today because he had asked you last night before you fell asleep. You just shrug, then step toward him and kiss him on the cheek.

"I'll talk to you later," you say quietly.

He shakes his head and grabs your hand to tug you back, "Answer me."

You swallow and then sigh, glancing down at his fingers wrapped around your wrist.

"Chores, Rafe. She has a bunch to do and I kinda owe her, so I promised I would help her."

You hate lying to him, but you hate the smug look on Topper's face more. You really don't want to have the conversation with Rafe about what Topper said to you, so you instantly decide to keep it under lock and key. No matter what. Rafe doesn't need to know that someone he loves doesn't believe he can get and stay clean.

"Sweet," Topper speaks up before Rafe can, "That means we can go to the course. I had them move our tee time back."

Rafe ignores Topper completely, staring at you to try and figure out what the hell changed in such a short amount of time.

"I'll talk to you later," you repeat, tugging on your wrist.

"Baby," he groans, but releases you at your wish.

You give him a small smile and another kiss, then turn and head upstairs to grab your stuff. You wait until you hear Rafe ask Topper what time the tee time is to start crying. You collect your stuff, not bothering to change out of Rafe's clothes, and leave your dress on his floor. You really just want to get home where you can totally cry without risking it.

You knew Rafe had gotten himself into trouble while you two were apart, but you never knew it was that bad. And you certainly didn't want to hear about Rafe fucking different girls every night because he was too high to process it.

Quickly, you make it down the stairs and out the door before Rafe can notice. You realize walking out of Figure Eight in boxers and a random t-shirt isn't exactly the best move, but it's all you have. About five minutes into your walk, your phone buzzes.

Rafe: I was going to drive you home. I'll come pick you up, I don't want you walking all the way back to the Cut.

You sigh, feeling another tear slip from your eye before you can even think about it. You know you're being dramatic, but you can't stop thinking about how bad he must've been.

I'm fine. I can handle it. Have fun golfing.

Rafe: Call me when you get home. Be careful, please. Did Top say something to upset you?

No, he didn't. I'll be busy when I get home. We'll talk later tonight.

Rafe: Fine. Love you.

You don't reply. You want to, but Topper's words swim around your head. You can't help but wonder if he really will leave you if things start to go south for him. The fact heaviest on your mind right now is that you simply don't know - because you hadn't been around for the past few months. You'd been missing him, of course, but you had avoided everything that had to do with him.

The entire conversation is on replay in your head for the rest of the day.

You do the dishes.

You're the first thing he's gonna bail out on.

You clean your room.

Did he tell you about all the girls he fucked in my bed?

You vacuum the house.

Just put him first. It's what you do when you love someone.

You yell out in frustration, feeling the tears well up in your eyes once again. Your phone had been going off earlier with texts from Rafe, so you had shut it off completely. He sent you a picture of him on the golf course, asked what you were up to, and informed you he'd be at the Club for dinner if you needed anything.

You slam your bedroom door and lay down in your bed, curling up in the sheets that Rafe had been under not two nights ago. It's dark now, so you know he's probably home from the Club. Or not, considering how clingy Topper had seemed earlier. You sniffle and finally feel in control of your emotions for the first time since you woke up this morning. Even though it's early, you can feel yourself growing tired.

There's a rapid knock on your bedroom door only half a second before it's pulled open, revealing your boyfriend. You sit up straight now, all hint of sleep gone. He's still wearing his golf shirt and shorts, a hat backwards on his head.

"Your dad, uh, let me in," he says awkwardly, stepping into your dark bedroom, "Glad to see you're still alive."

He closes your door and flips on the light, getting a good look at your emotional ass. You watch his expression fall as he takes you in, but you just shake your head.

"I was just about to go to bed."

Rafe takes a hesitant step toward you, wanting nothing more than to wrap his arms around you and ask you what the hell is going on. You look him in the eyes, noting how they look bloodshot to you.

"We were about to go to bed," he corrects.

You shake your head again, "I don't think you should sleep here tonight, Rafe."

His heart sinks in his chest at your words, but he walks over to your bed anyway. You instinctively move away, cuddling yourself into the furthest corner of your bed.

"What the fuck is going on with you?" he finally asks, having wanted to since he walked in. He starts to pace your bedroom, shaking his head and mumbling slightly to himself.

"Nothing."

"Bullshit."

He turns to look at you again and you stop breathing. His eyes are red. Bloodshot. He can't stand still. You gasp and stand up from your bed quickly, staring at him like he just hurt you.

"Rafe," you hiss, "Tell me you did not get high with Topper."

Rafe laughs sarcastically, then brings his hand up to scratch the back of his neck. You set your hands on your hips and stare at him with your eyebrows raised, waiting on his answer.

"It was just a little bit," he admits, "I'm not even high."

You scoff, "Yeah? Tell your eyes."

"What the fuck was I supposed to do?" he raises his voice now, letting his emotions carry his response, "You weren't answering your phone, you left me this morning all weird, and Topper had a little coke-"

"That doesn't mean you have to do it!" you yell back, "And what the fuck is Topper doing giving you coke when he knows you're trying to stay clean?"

Rafe inhales deeply, trying to stop himself from screaming at you when he knows your parents are downstairs.

"You know," he starts after a minute, "I am old enough to know what I should and shouldn't do."

You shake your head, laughing again, "Your behavior the past few months could've fooled me."

He steps back with a hurt expression, like you've stung him. You cross your arms over your chest, trying your best to steady your breathing.

"I have done everything I can to try and show you I'm getting better," he states, his voice anxious and shaky, "Okay, yeah, I made a bad judgment call today with Topper. I fucked up. But, I was anxious because you weren't responding to me and I just... needed something to take the edge off."

You sigh and then open your mouth to speak, but Rafe's getting himself worked up and speaks again before you can.

"Don't turn all this shit around on me, though. You've been acting weird since this morning and I think I know why."

Your eyes flicker up to him, and he watches as you swallow, "Rafe-"

"Look, that Instagram post was just supposed to be, like, a cute thing. I didn't mean to freak you out or whatever. I changed the caption, so. I'm sorry."

Your face falls and your heart sinks. You loved that caption. And he changed it. You want to speak, but you can't find the right words. You just sink down onto your bed again, watching Rafe move quietly around your room.

"I think you should leave, Rafe."

His head shoots over to you, trying to figure out if you really mean it or not. He shakes his head when he sees your expression.

"No, baby-" he stops, stepping toward you but stopping when you hold your hand up.

"I loved that caption," you admit, knowing that's totally not the point right now, "Go home."

You lay down on your bed and turn your back to him, waiting to hear your bedroom door open and shut so you could cry again. You hear Rafe exhale, then sniffle a bit, then exhale again.

"Tell me what he said to you."

You don't move a muscle, but your eyes flutter closed. Of course he knows, because he knows you.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Rafe steps forward and grabs your shoulder, laying you flat on your back so you can stare up at him. One look at you and he knows you're lying.

"Please don't play fucking stupid with me. Tell me what Topper said to upset you."

You can tell he's starting to get angry, but you swore to yourself you'd never tell him about it. It would hurt him too much.

Just put him first. It's what you do when you love someone.

"He didn't say anything," you lie.

Rafe laughs loudly, then stands up and runs his hands through his hair. You can tell he's pissed off.

"I'm gonna fucking kill him," he mutters.

"Rafe-"

"Don't lie to me!" he yells at you, "I mean, holy shit, I do one fucking line and you act like it's the end of the world, but you lie to me, and it's just supposed to be fine?"

"I'm not lying!" you yell back at him, watching as he throws his hands out from his sides.

"Yeah? Tell your face," he quotes you from earlier.

You groan and lay back down, covering your face with the sleeves of your sweatshirt. Rafe sighs as well, but his sounds more annoyed and yours sounds more stressed. You really have no idea what to say, how to make it better, how to express that you don't want to ruin him again. You don't want him to end up that way, but you also don't want him to think you don't believe in him.

"You know what?" Rafe sighs again, "I'm gonna leave. Let you figure your shit out. I'll just come back when you've gotten a grip."

He doesn't wait for your response or even bother to look at you before he turns away and steps toward the door. You note for the first time that he's wearing a red collared shirt. Probably just for you. You wait until his hand is on your doorknob to speak.

"Maybe you shouldn't."

Rafe freezes, then turns around. He doesn't dare meet your eyes, as he's sure they'll confirm his biggest fear.

"What?" he plays dumb, "Leave?"

"No," you sigh, sitting up again, "Maybe you shouldn't come back."

He'll run back to the coke and the parties and the girls.

You can't put yourself through the heartbreak of losing Rafe Cameron. Again. And if Topper's right, you'll get hurt. As much as you hate to admit it, Topper knows Rafe better than almost anyone. As much as you love Rafe, as much as you want Rafe, you want Rafe to be healthy more.

"Baby girl," his voice cracks, "You don't mean that."

"Yes, I do."

You stand up from the bed, ready to beg him not to run back to the drugs. Or the parties. Or the girls. You want him to pull himself together, apply to schools like he had told you about, and work hard for his dad. And you worry he can't do all that if he's busy running around with you. Just as Topper had so lovingly pointed out, Rafe missed all the fun at the party because he'd been with you.

"Baby, please," his eyes are welling up fast, and you have to look away, "If this is about the coke, I swear-"

"Rafe-"

"-to God, I'm done with that shit. I'll never touch it again. I promise you. And if it's about Topper, just tell me what he said to you. Please."

He walks over to you and pulls your chin up to look at him, knowing in your eyes that there's something there. But you know the hurt will only get worse if he knows the truth - if he knows that Topper doesn't believe he can get clean or hold down his job.

"I just think we're moving too fast," you say, moving from his grip, "It's only been a little over a week, Rafe. And we're already, like, crazy serious-"

"We've never been a normal couple!" he says, raising his voice once more, "We both knew that going in, don't act like that's some new shit."

"I cheated on JJ!" you scream, finally allowing some real, true emotion to come out, "I fucking cheated on him, Rafe. That's not okay with me. That's not who I am. And now, I'm practically married, I've got your clothes in my closet-"

"Since when does that bother you?" Rafe yells back, "I brought them here for you! Because you like to pick out my shirts!"

"It's too much," you tell him, "It's too much too soon and I just need some time."

"Time," Rafe repeats, as if the word is unfamiliar to him.

You nod and sit down on your bed again, only glancing and seeing tears fall from his eyes.

"Time away from me," he nods, still processing.

Silently, Rafe steps to your closet and pulls out the hangars with his collared shirts on them, tucking them around his arm. He turns to you then, walking over and gently tilting your chin up to look at him.

"I am not going to apologize to you for telling you I love you so quickly. I love you with all my heart. So, I'm keeping my promise to you. And I'll be over on my side of the island while you take your time, and when you're ready, baby, we're going to be okay."

You shut your eyes, unaware you had been welling up with tears until they fall freely down your cheeks. Rafe leans down and presses his lips to your cheek, kissing the water away. He lets go and steps away after a moment, soaking in one last look before he turns around.

"Rafe," you choke out.

He turns around, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. You smile gently at him, then wipe away another tear.

"I believe in you. You can get clean."

He nods his head, "I will get clean."

You take a deep breath, letting his words flow through your body. He turns around and slips out of your room before you know it, and that's when you really lose it. Your sweet boy, Rafe Cameron, took his shirts you love so much and left you. You know you had to make it believable, so you brought up the shirts, but the truth is, you love looking at them every morning when you get dressed. You love picking one out for him.

You love him.

But you know he has to get clean. You wipe your tears and change your shirt, then head out of your room. You ask your mom for her car keys, which you never do, so she knows you mean business. She asks you where you're going if Rafe just left, and you just tell her you'll be back later.

You've only been to Topper Thorton's house once. It was back when you and Rafe were still fucking around, you had shown up to a party per Rafe's request, even though he didn't want the two of you to go together. You're only fairly confident that you remember where it is, which is why you smile triumphantly when you spot the house from the road.

You're out of the car and knocking on the front door before you can even think twice. You could kill him, you really think you could.

A woman pulls open the door, not even bothering to pretend to be polite.

"May I help you?"

"Hi," you say awkwardly, comparing her beautiful dress and pearls to your leggings and ratty old shirt that you're actually pretty sure is JJ's, "I'm here to see Topper."

She smirks, "I knew he'd find another girl after Sarah Cameron."

Your mouth falls open and you instantly try to explain to her who you are, but she just turns around and calls for him. She doesn't bother to invite you in. You hear Topper approach and thank his mother, then watch a smirk appear on his lips when he sees you.

"Phone working yet?"

You have to tell yourself not to smack him across the face. You really could hit that pretty boy smirk right off. You glance around him into the house to make sure his mother is gone before you shove Topper back roughly.

"Giving him a line, Topper? Really?"

Topper looks shocked as he recovers, stepping back over to the door. He laughs as he processes what just happened.

"Hey, he wanted it," Topper shrugs, "He always does."

"You're a fucking prick," you spit.

Topper shrugs, "At least I didn't blow him off all day and then break up with him."

"He told you?" you gasp. Topper laughs louder now, which only pisses you off more.

"He tells me everything, Y/N. Look, I'm sorry if I hurt your precious feelings this morning. I'm just looking out for both of your best interests-"

"If you were looking out for Rafe's best interest, you wouldn't have given him coke today. Or any day, for that matter."

Topper shrugs again, "Our opinions differ on how to take care of him."

You groan and step off the porch, realizing you're getting nowhere with him. He leans up against the doorframe as he watches you debate what to say next.

"He's gonna get clean, Topper. Don't fuck this up for him."

"Or what?"

Your blood is boiling as you stare at him, not understanding why he wants Rafe to fail so badly. You roll your eyes and turn your back on him, ready to walk away from him and this conversation.

"You realize he's gonna be knee deep in coke tomorrow, now that you broke up with him."

You turn around, using this opportunity to smirk at him, "I wouldn't put money down on that one."

Topper just shakes his head and then flips off the porch light on you just to prove he's a dick. But you don't care. Because the difference between you and Topper is that you have faith in Rafe Cameron.

You cry in the car for a while. Getting it all out before you have to go home sounds like a good idea. You feel it all. You feel like you're breaking in half not having felt Rafe since this morning. Last night at the party seems like a million miles away from where you sit now.

When you finally calm yourself down enough, you can feel how swollen your eyes are. You sniffle, wipe your nose in your sleeve, then start driving back to the Cut. You drive and drive, your head spinning. You start to cry again when you realize who you want to talk to more than anything about this - JJ Maybank. You two had always been great friends, and before you know it, you're pulling up to John B's.

You don't even bother trying to adjust your appearance; JJ's seen just about every look on you and all you want is to just talk to him. You walk up the stairs to the porch of the house, coming face to face with Kiara. She's smoking a blunt and sits up straight when she sees you, your mind flashing back to the way she screamed at you last night.

"What happened to you?" she scoffs, eyeing your tear soaked shirt and swollen eyes.

"Is he here?" you ask her as you attempt to pass by her and go into the house to find him if you have to.

"None of your damn business," she mutters.

"Is he fucking here or not, Kiara?" you raise your voice, surprising her.

She raises an eyebrow at you, then looks back toward the house, "JJ!"

You sigh and roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest as you wait. She looks back down at her blunt, taking another drag and pretending you don't exist.

"Y/N?" you hear JJ's voice, and when he catches sight of you, he speaks again, "Oh, my God. What happened?"

Your heart melts at the way he rushes to you without a second thought, pulling you into his arms. You start to cry again, not able to hold any of it back. Kiara huffs and crushes her blunt, then stands and walks inside. You've never been more thankful to see her go.

"Rafe," you start, but the words aren't coming easily.

"What? Did he do something to you?"

You shake your head immediately, trying to suck in a deep breath.

"Okay, okay," he coaxes you, "Let's sit. Just relax."

He leads you over to the couch where Kiara had been sitting and pulls you down with him, taking your hands in his. You start to cry even harder when he does this, knowing how much you don't deserve it. JJ had been too good for you from the very beginning.

"It's okay," he tells you, giving you a little smile, "Take a deep breath."

You sit and focus on your breathing, squeezing tightly onto JJ's hands in yours. He nods his head and whispers occasionally to you, telling you to relax and you're safe. When you finally have a grip on your breathing, you look up at him with sad eyes.

"I cheated on you," you mumble, finally having the balls to admit it. The guilt and the weight of your mistake is holding your chest down.

"Ouch," he jokes, laughing to try and lighten the mood, "Yeah, Y/N, I kind of knew that already."

You shake your head rapidly, as if to tell him he doesn't understand. He leans his head in closer to you to stop you from moving, then reaching up and moving hair away from your eyes.

"No," you say, feeling the tears again, "I'm not that person, JJ. And you deserve better than that, God, you deserve so much better. I'm so sorry, you don't understand. I'm so, so sorry, JJ-"

He pulls you into him before you can continue apologizing, feeling your second wave of hysterics coming on.

"It's all right," he whispers.

"No, it's not," you say into his shoulder, "You were always so good to me and I just-"

"Sweetheart," he pulls out his favorite nickname for you, but both of you can tell it means something different now than it did, "I wasn't what you wanted. That's okay. Nobody can blame you for that. Not even you."

You pull away from him, staring at him with red and puffy eyes, "Kiara can."

JJ laughs, replaying last night over in his head. He had yelled at Kiara the entire way home for being such a bitch to you.

"Now," he smiles gently when you lift yourself off of him, "Tell me what happened with Rafe."

"Are you sure?"

He nods, "Friends first, right?"

You nod, then reach up and wipe your tears, "I kind of told him I wanted a break because he needs to get clean and figure out some shit. Topper told me this morning that Rafe's just going to leave me, anyway. And I just can't get hurt again, I can't be that zombie version of myself again, JJ."

He nods his head as you speak, trying to understand and absorb every word you say. He stares at you for a moment once you finish speaking, trying to figure out exactly what his response should be.

"I get it," he starts off easy, "But, fuck, Y/N, I kind of think you're busy protecting yourself. Rafe himself hasn't even given you a reason to think he's going to leave you, right?"

You shake your head. JJ nods encouragingly.

"Good. I think you're putting a lot of value on Topper's words. And did you see how drunk that motherfucker was last night? I wouldn't trust that guy with a paper bag, much less my relationship. I don't wanna tell you what to do or how to handle your feelings, but I think you're the one who has shit to figure out."

You smile and wrap your arms around him in a hug, soaking in every word. You had known coming her wouldn't be a mistake, and JJ seems to prove you right every time.

"Thank you, JJ," you say as you hug him.

"You seem happy with him," he says quietly, "Don't overthink it. You could miss out on something amazing."

You hang out with JJ for a bit until you feel comfortable enough to go home. He makes you promise to text him when you get there safely, then tells you to fix things with Rafe. You just nod and hop in the car, driving home.

And when you lay in bed before you fall asleep, you can't help but check. You pull up your boyfriend's Instagram page and click on the post from last night, a pit growing in your stomach as you can only imagine what he changed the caption to.

Your heart swells when you read the same sweet words you read this morning. You click on the comment section and see that it says the caption had been edited two hours ago. Right after he had left your house.

He knew you loved it. So he changed it back.

That's what makes up your mind.

Tags: @hollandsour @flowerkidlxrry @outrbanks @kookkyra @pogueslandia @sarahwasfound

@sydmetry @fuzzyhumanpersontrash @rafecameronn . .

@cmaisano14 @kaysturnt @rafeswh0r @estacticheart