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alexiroflife · 4 months

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"drunk wishes"

[part 2]

fluff, clingy gojo, friends in love

high school!gojo satoru x reader

Synopsis: years ago, satoru's habit of drinking on school nights constantly led him to ask for you, desperate for your company. of course, you couldn't blame his constant need for you on anything but the alcohol... right?

to sum it up: seventeen year old satoru was a clingy drunk & suguru and shoko always left him for you to take care of

WC: 5,665

Warning(s): alcohol use

The second your phone rang, screen lighting up to reveal the group picture of you, Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko squeezed into frame, you knew that the book you were currently halfway through would have to wait.

With a sigh, you tossed the book to the side and picked up the group call, dreading whatever was about to greet you next.

Shoko’s contact bubble was blank, for she was likely asleep at this hour. Satoru was the first to stick his head into the camera, followed by a pending bubble from Geto that eventually revealed his exasperated expression.

“(Y/n)!” Satoru slurred, grinning cheerfully into the phone. His snowy hair and bright eyes peering over round glasses were the only thing in frame as he stared intently down at his screen. The scene behind him was dark. It looked like he was standing outside somewhere, and it took you a few seconds to notice that Geto’s background resembled the very same place. “Where’re youuuuu?”

You pursed your lips in amusement, entirely too familiar with this situation. “Hi, Toru. How are you feeling?”

“Amazing, now that I get’to see y’er pretty face,” he grinned, his persistent flirting doing very little to surprise you. “D’you know that new bar down the street does’t ID check?!”

“No, I didn’t know that. You had some fun there, huh?”

“S’much fun,” he sighed, words blurring into each other. “But then I got bored, s’we went to th’ store ‘nd got snacks. Isn’t that right, Sugu-boo?”

His phone shook with the wobbling of his feet, revealing his black haired best friend standing close by as he turned to look over his shoulder at him.

You held back your laugh, glancing at the time to see that it was nearly two in the morning. Not only that, but the three of you in addition to Shoko had class in about six hours. Why the hell those two were out this late, you had no idea, but you couldn’t have said that you were surprised. After all, they did this at least three times a week, per Satoru’s influence, of course.

Suguru shook his head with a tired exhale, holding the camera down. “He’s driving me insane,” he grumbled, brows angled with irritation.

You were quick to move from your bed and shuffle across your dorm to grab a sweatshirt. You already knew where this call was leading. “What the hell are you guys even doing?” you asked. “You know what time it is, right?”

“Yeah, we do,” Suguru hissed, turning to eye a babbling Satoru. You could see the black haired boy’s eye twitch. “But someone dragged me out of bed because he didn’t want to be out alone.”

“Figures,” you laugh. “Where are you now?”

“The convenience store around the corner,” he answered. “We’re literally five minutes away, but Satoru said he wasn’t going to walk any further unless you were here.”

The said boy raised his phone up over his head, the camera peering down at the two tall men from a high angle. Satoru’s eyes went wide and mouth gaped in childlike awe, as if he were showing you some whimsical discovery through the lens of his camera. He dangled a small bag in his free hand, showing off his haul.

“Look, (Y/n)! C’me see what we got you ‘nd Shokoooo! Suguru, sh-show her y’re stuff,” he urged, a lazy smirk dancing across his face. He nudged Suguru in his chest, the contents of the strongest student’s bag knocking against his best friend repeatedly. A vein bulged in Suguru’s forehead. His bedtime was supposed to be two hours ago, and he was steadily growing more agitated.

“I’m gonna kill him, (Y/n). Please come take him off my hands.”

“What about me, huh? I could’ve been asleep, you know. Or studying, like how you two are supposed to.”

“Oh, shut up. I know you weren’t doing anything important.”

You glared at him through your screen. “This is how you treat me, huh? The designated walker for when you get tired.”

“You know how it goes,” Suguru smirked lightly. “Satoru’s needy.”

“(Y/n),” he groaned. “Sugu doesn't love me anymore, s’you have to come take care of me the way- y’know how-to- how you always do,” the blue eyed seventeen year old droned on dramatically. “Pleeeaaaaaase, I miss youuu-”

His singing was disrupted with the tumble of his phone from his hand to the ground, the device hitting the pavement with a smack. His screen went black after landing face first and you watched Geto look down at Satoru boredly, for he had likely been expecting just that to happen.

Satoru gasped loudly, bending over to retrieve his phone clumsily. Suguru panned his camera to show the sight to you, the white haired boy’s long legs spread stiffly as he leaned from his torso to pick up his phone. “(Y/n)! NOO! M’so sorry!” he cried out.

There was shuffling on his end and a dizzy spin of the camera before Satoru’s face came back into view in his small FaceTime square. “I didn’t mean’ta drop you, pretty, don’t be mad,” he whined.

You shook your head, swiping your dorm key from your desk and heading to your door. “I’m on my way, Suguru,” you said, ignoring Satoru’s drunk babbling.

“Please hurry, I can't take much more of this.”

You were quick to rush out of your dorm when you ended the call, cutting off whatever sweet talk your intoxicated friend was about to pull out next and the agitated ‘Shut the fuck up!’ that boomed from Suguru.

You knew this routine like the back of your hand. Either Satoru, Shoko, or Suguru would call you or the group chat, depending on who was out on a given night, to ask you to come over and babysit drunk Satoru, who had always found himself pleading for you the moment liquor settled into his system.

Though Satoru was the strongest sorcerer and overall person you had ever met, his tolerance for alcohol was painfully low, which you all supposed was why he liked to drink so much. Satoru was so used to being the best at everything, to not having to struggle or experience every day pressures and trials of weakness that the rest of you had to endure.

Nothing in his life posed a challenge for him, so when he stole a moment to find something that lowered his inhibitions and eased him into a state of malfunction and playful instability, it was like taking a break, a breath of fresh air after having been submerged underwater. He liked the way alcohol buzzed through his brain, melted through his bloodstream, and dumbed him down to a simple, wasted mess.

It reminded him that he was still flesh and bone in a world that raised him up as a god.

So he went out and drank quite a bit, and you, naturally, were his caretaker during those frequent times.

You never thought Satoru meant anything by his clinginess toward you. After all, he was Satoru Gojo. He was fawned over by all women, and as one of his closest friends, you had witnessed his constant indulgence in their infatuation over him.

Satoru never acted beyond his captivating smiles and provocative words. It was all a game to him, something to keep him entertained and to raise his already astronomically large ego.

Therefore, when he called you over and over, told you that you were gorgeous, and blabbered about how much he loved to have you by his side, you thought nothing of it. Satoru was your friend, and you would look after him over and over again solely because of that fact.

The four of you were bonded, closer than anyone else on your campus. You may have been a bit too cliquey for others’ taste, but you all loved each other dearly, and that’s all you assumed Satoru’s drunk words were: love for a friend being portrayed incorrectly due to the alcohol.

And boy, did you love Satoru dearly, as much as you loved Shoko and Suguru. You loved him so much that you’d rub his back every time he’d throw up into your toilet and bring him fresh clothes for the morning every time he was too hungover to make it back to his dorm.

You loved him so much that you’d take care of him as long as he allowed you, as long as when you were sober and he was intoxicated, he needed you in a way he would never need you when his mind was clear and alert. You loved him so much that no matter how each compliment and loving gaze he tossed your way in the midst of his drunken stupors sent butterflies swirling through your tummy, you’d allow yourself to bury your feelings deep down.

After all, the sun would always rise and the haziness of his eyes would always disappear, and he would always have to go back to being Satoru Gojo. The strongest who needed no one.

You arrived outside the convenient store a few minutes later, approaching your two friends slowly. The 24-hour convenience store sign provided the only source of light amidst the darkness and buzzed softly over the boys’ heads.

Suguru was leaning beside the store entrance against the wall, hands in his pockets, eyes closed, and head resting against the brick. Satoru was sitting on the curb with his legs splayed out before him and his bag to the side, humming some song loudly to himself.

He was quick to catch sight of you once you stepped into his vision. His face lit up and he jumped to his feet, stumbling to the side before rushing over to you sloppily. He clung to you immediately, long arms circling around yours from the side and pulling you to his chest. He leaned his head atop yours, his glasses crashing against your forehead painfully.

“Finally, y’took forever,” he moaned, leaving you very little room to breathe. You huffed, clenching your jaw and craning your neck out to try to find some space for oxygen. You patted his arm with your hand stiffly, unable to move much more than that.

“I know, I know. Five minutes was just so long,” you agreed sarcastically, to which Satoru nodded aggressively.

“Way too long.”

Suguru pushed himself off of the wall when he heard your voice, opening his eyes and sauntering tiredly over to the two of you. You looked up at him from where you stood, trapped, and you could see a smugness dancing in his fatigued eyes despite his agitation. “Don’t look at me like that, dick,” you seethed. “Your lazy ass couldn’t walk him back?”

“I told you, he wanted to see you,” he shrugged. “Besides, you and I both know it’s physically impossible to get Satoru to do something he doesn’t want to do. He’s such a big baby.”

He eyed the blue eyed sorcerer who poked out his tongue childishly, tugging you closer into him.

“Just tell m’you hate me, Sugu,” Satoru frowned.

“Yeah, yeah.” The dark haired student leaned down to grab Satoru’s bag and hand it to you. “Here. I’m walking in this direction,” he pointed behind him.

You scrunched your brows. “That’s gonna add like fifteen minutes to a two second walk,” you pointed out.

“If it means peace and quiet, so be it,” he sighed.

“Awee, tired a’me already?” Satoru giggled, raising an arm to poke Suguru’s stiff shoulder.

“Yes,” he deadpanned. “Good night, you too. Be safe and text me when you’re in. And for the love of god, get this idiot to sleep when you get back,” the seventeen year old sweatdropped.

“You say that like it’ll be easy,” you seethed.

“Mhm.”

With that, Suguru turned over his shoulder and walked off, leaving you and Satoru alone once again.

“God, he’so moody,” Satoru chuckled. “W’don’t need ‘im anyway. Got all I need right’here.”

“He’s your best friend, Toru. You’ll always need him.”

“Mmmaybe, but dn’t tell ‘im that. It’ll go to his big head.”

You laughed.

“Alright, Toru, come on,” you nudged yourself away from his embrace. He released you, but was quick to sling his arm over your shoulders as you guided him around with your hand on his back. He leaned slightly over you, causing you to trip under his weight. He was so tall and heavy, draping himself comfortably over your figure. He already had absolutely no concept of personal space, but it was so much worse when he was under the influence. “Okay, yeah, one step at a time. Let’s get you home,” you guided sweetly.

“‘Kay,” he mumbled. “Mmm, some ramen would b’good right now, don’t y’think?” he murmured. “Should’make some when we- when we get back.”

“Sure. Okay. We can make some ramen,” you lied. You silently prayed he’d forget the suggestion once he was in his dorm.

Satoru spent the entire walk yapping, swaying back and for and bringing you along with him. He’d almost made the two of you fall about ten times, and what was meant to be a quick walk lasted double the original time. You were sure that Suguru had already made it back to his dorm by the rate the two of you were moving.

The sight of Satoru’s dorm room was like seeing the gates of heaven open before you. You exhaled in relief when you approached his door, which was irresponsibly unlocked. The guy had been out for hours and hadn’t even bothered to secure his room.

You shoved the door open, pulling Satoru in with you. He removed his arm from around you after what felt like hours and stumbled forward, falling face first on his carpet. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath after setting his bag to the side, for you knew that you would not be getting to bed soon simply from that action alone.

Satoru groaned, turning his head to the side to breathe. His glasses had risen up over his forehead crookedly, revealing his glassy ocean eyes and snow white lashes fluttering sleepily over them. “I could sleep right’here,” he mumbled, limbs spread out like a starfish.

You shook your head and closed his door behind him. You pulled out your phone quickly, pulling up Suguru’s contact and snapping a picture of the ridiculous sight before you. You sent it along with a message letting him know that the two of you made it safe.

Seconds later, Suguru responded with a ‘yeah, good luck with that.’

You put your phone on the dresser, crouching down over him. “Well too bad you’re not going to,” you said. You grabbed his arm and tugged at it. “Come on, big guy. Let’s get you on the bed.”

“Why?” he pouted, closing his eyes and poking out his glossy bottom lip.

“Because you’ll regret it in the morning when you wake up with an aching back.”

“But I don’t wanna get up,” he groaned, allowing his body to go limp as you mustered up all your strength to pull at him. You grunted, tugging him backward as best as you could.

“Don’t make this so difficult,” you groaned. “Get up!”

“Noooooo,” he whined.

“What the hell have you been eating?!” you asked breathlessly. “You weigh like two hundred pounds!”

“Maybe y’re jus’ weak,” he snickered to himself, and you almost dropped his hand and walked out of his room.

“Maybe I should just beat your ass,” you grumbled.

He turned to smirk at you, eyes glinting with hazy mischief. “Try it. I won’t go easy on you.”

You couldn’t help the blush that fought its way to your cheeks under his gaze. Even drunk, he knew how to get under your skin.

“Shut up,” you grumbled and he laughed.

You tried again, yanking his arm, but to no avail. He wouldn’t budge.

“Ugh! Satoru!” you shouted in frustration. “I can’t stand it when you get like this.”

The Gojo’s smile fell, brows curving in distaste. “Who the hell’s Satoru?” he frowned.

You blinked, lowered his arm and leaning down by his side. “What?”

“Y’call me Toru. What happened’ta Toru?” he repeated, childishly, eyes gleaming with impatience.

“Yeah, well, when you’re not pissing me off, you’re Toru” you tilted your head to look him in his eyes. “Why?”

He groaned loudly, his dramatics so boisterous that they could probably wake up the rest of the hall. You cocked a brow, releasing his arm as he shifted around, twisting himself onto his back and flopping about. “Why d’you do this t’me,” he complained, lifting his arms up and into the air.

You sighed. “What are you on about, drama queen?”

“Pick m’up.”

“Oh, now you wanna get up, huh?”

“If’t means ’m Toru again, yes,” he pouted again. “Pick m’up,” he demanded once more.

You scoffed a laugh, standing to your feet and leaning over him. “So dramatic,” you said as you grasped his outstretched hands, leaning back to pull him up. He assisted you this time, bringing himself to a seated position before you helped him onto his feet. He stumbled again and you held onto his hands, leading him over to the edge of his bed.

“F’ryou,” he responded, plopping down onto his comforter. He leaned over unstably and you caught his head, guiding him back upright. He hummed softly, leaning into the warmth of your palm, eyes half lidded. “Thank you.”

“I got you, Toru,” you smiled, bending down to tug his shoes off. When you did, you missed the wide beam that stretched across his face at the sound of his nickname rolling from your lips.

After setting his shoes at his door, you went to move about his space familiarly, walking over to his bottom dresser drawers and pulling out an old tee and sweatpants.

Satura watched you lazily, eyes dragging along your figure as you so carefully picked out his clothes. He could feel his heart thrumming in his chest like a rhythm, his flushed cheeks growing warmer simply from the sight of you.

You walked back over to him, clothes folded over your arm. He smiled up at you in a daze, appearing like a giddy school boy sitting there patiently for you. You gave him a strange look, placing his clothes next to him on the bed and removing his glasses from his head, setting aside on his lamp lit nightstand.

When you turned back to him, his eyes hadn’t left you. His pupils were blown wide and his lips stretched into a dumb grin. He spread his legs out and leaned back on his elbows tiredly, admiring you, for the first time tonight, with no words.

“Why are you staring at me like that, weirdo?” you rose a brow.

His smile widened. “Y’just so pretty.”

Just like that, butterflies swarmed as if on cue. Your brows drew together as you looked at him, examining his face for any detection of mischief or deception, but you found none. His gaze upon you was so raw, so full of ardor and sweltering tenderness. He looked like a puppy dog watching you in such a way, and you tried your very hardest to keep your legs from turning to jelly beneath you.

You cleared your throat, looking down and busying yourself with unfolding his clothes. “You’re drunk.”

“On you.”

God, he just wouldn’t stop. His presence was so suffocating, it filled the room with its weight. You felt as though you were going to lose your breath if he kept looking at and talking to you like that.

“Stop,” you sighed, tossing his shirt at him. It hit his face softly, rolling down into his lap. Even that hadn’t been enough for his eyes to rip from your face. He simply reached blindly for the fabric, gaze unwavering.

“You gon’help me change, pretty?” he asked gently, looking to you expectantly.

“Now what makes you say that?” you questioned, though you both knew full well that you were going to do just that.

“Cause’you’ve done it b’fore. When I was black’out.”

You whipped your head up at him to find a teasing expression on his features. “There’s no way you remember that?!” you said, incredulously.

He giggled to himself slightly. “No, Shoko tol’me.”

You internally cursed the brunette for betraying you in such a way. “Asshole,” you muttered to yourself, leading Satoru to laugh louder.

As if on instinct, sat up straight and held his arms out. “M’ready,” he cheesed.

“You’re such an idiot, you know that?”

He didn’t respond as you walked up to him and stood between his spread legs. He was suddenly silent, observing you closely. You could feel those eyes glued to you, burning into your skull like a line of blue fire. You held your breath, keeping your eyes on your fingers as they reached for the top bottom of his collared shirt.

You had done this so many times, on so many nights, and the majority of the time, he was either passed out or too drunk to keep his head up and pay attention to what you were doing. This night, however, he was more alert than he had been at this stage of his intoxication. He must not have gotten very far into his drinking, you had thought to yourself.

He was still pretty drunk, but the gleam in his eye made you question if he would forget this moment like he usually did when you helped him into more comfortable clothes.

His chest rose and fell delicately under your hands. You popped one button open, then the next, and the next. Your soft fingers brushed against the smoothness of his skin occasionally, the white haired boy jumping slightly every now and then at the contact.

Satoru broke his eyes from you for just a second, looking down and following the buzzing vision of your fingers working down his shirt, freeing his abdomen for you to see. You could hear his soft breaths, deep and long, as though he were breathing manually, desperately finding a way to recall how to inhale and exhale properly.

He looked back up at you once the entire shirt was undone, a bashful tint on his cheeks. You were so careful with him, so attentive, so patient and loving with your touch. Shoko and Suguru had always looked after him when he drank by making sure he got home safe when you weren’t around, but they never took care of him the way you did so gently, so earnestly.

Flashes of your touch and your face would strike him during those early morning hangovers, feeding into the initial yearning he already harbored for you within his chest and his gut. He knew you were always there, in his dreams and his fragmented memories, but he could never recall how or why so clearly.

So now, he soaked you in, devouring each feather light touch and tug at his clothing. He was captivated by the way you moved around his room as though you lived there, like you’d been there a hundred million times over in this exact position. How you talked to him with a tinge of coddling and kindness in your voice that he rarely detected through your normal day to day.

You handled him with such care, as if he were going to break, and it baffled him. It baffled him how he, one of the strongest individuals to roam this earth, was nothing but putty at your loving hands. He felt so vulnerable sitting there before you, staring intently at your face as you tugged his sleeves down each arm and pulled his shirt from his body. He had expected to feel cool, but he was surrounded by nothing but warmth. Whether it was you or the liquor, he wasn’t sure, but he could feel himself slipping into a trance induced by your beauty and your care.

Everything in his vision was vibrating except for the vision of you, constant and comforting. He wanted nothing more than to melt into you, to allow you to envelope him within your arms. He wanted to stare at you until he couldn’t see anymore, to memorize every curve in your jaw and dent in your brows, the twitch of your nose and the hitch of your breath, the swipe of your tongue over your lip and the flutter of your lashes over mesmerizing, gentle (e/c) eyes.

He was so drunk, yes, but you were doing very little to sober him up. He felt like he was floating and falling into you all at once.

You grabbed his t-shirt in your hands and spread it out, reaching your hands through the hole to stretch it over your friend’s head. He poked his head through the neck hole, hair messily sprawling over his forehead as a result, and pulled his arms through the sleeves, disorientedly.

You still hadn’t looked at him. You were already moving to grab his sweats when you felt a hand reach up and snake over your waist.

You jumped, snapping your eyes up to his finally. His brows were pinched together and his lips were parted, the blue of his irises a stark contrast against the pink shade of his face. You were close, your legs bumping the edge of the bed while Satoru’s legs caged around you. You stopped suddenly, his touch catching you off guard.

He didn’t say anything. He only snaked his other hand around you, settling them on your hips, leading your heart to slam into your chest.

“S-Satoru, what…” you trailed off, losing yourself in his eyes. There wasn’t a single thought behind them except you. “What’s wrong? You want me to stop?”

His Adam's apple bobbed with a gulp he took, thumbs rolling over your hips experimentally. He looked down, over your body, watching his hands grasp your waist gently as if the feeling and the sight of it weren’t real. He could hear your heart pounding, see your blood rushing, practically taste your nerves despite his drunken state.

You were so overstimulating. Worse than the five shots he’d tossed back.

“Toru?” you called him again. He saw your lips move before the sound registered within his brain, the sweet address sending shivers down his spine. He could barely keep himself upright, but he needed more of you.

“Why’dyou do’this?” he mumbled, unsure of what he was even asking.

Your nose scrunched in that cute way it did when you were confused. “Huh?”

“Y’always… look after’me. Always’take care’a’me. Why?”

You were growing nervous. Your heartbeat was loud enough, you were sure Satoru could here, and your face was hot to the touch. “Because… because you’re one of my closest friends, Toru. I care about you.”

He shook his head slightly. “‘S’not th’same.”

“What do you mean?”

“S’not th’same as Sho ‘n Sugu. S’different. You’re different.”

“I…” you weren’t sure what to say. He had you cornered, trapped into him with no escape. You were hyper aware of his fingers gripping your waist softly and his eyes eating you alive. Your senses were through the roof, and you wanted to run and break away from this contact, from this feeling, but you couldn’t. You were frozen.

You could feel him tugging himself closer, leaning into you, pressing you closer.

“You’re drunk, Satoru. You should get to bed. We can talk about this tomorrow, when you’re sober,” you tried to change the subject.

“No,” he refused. “Please, no. Please.”

His hands trailed up your waist, feeling all around your body. You were perfect, too perfect. He couldn’t get enough of you.

His hands reached your arms, then your shoulders, and finally your face, cradling your cheeks softly within his warm palms.

You pursed your lips, eyes scattering over his face as he gazed at you. He drew your face closer, his sharp nose brushing yours. He was so close, you could smell the alcohol on his breath.

You lifted your hands to grasp his wrists, preparing to pull his hands from your flustered face.

“Satoru,” you warned. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t want y’to’go,” he whispered, thumbs smoothing over your hot skin. You shivered, your mind battling against itself as you tried to decide what to do.

He was drunk. He had no idea what he was doing. He was just being clingy.

“Please. Please stay, (Y/n). Need’you.”

“I’m not going anywhere, love,” you told him, meeting his eyes directly. “I’m right here.”

“But’don’t leave tonight. Y’always leave. Don’t. Stay. Sleep w’me.”

Your heart swooned, ached, swelled. Satoru was always so needy, but never to this extent. He was practically falling apart before you.

He stared at you longingly, brows curved as if he was going to cry. “Please, pretty. Please.”

This boy had you so weak. There was nothing he could have asked for that you wouldn’t have said yes to. It was why you were always showing up at his side in the middle of the night when he called for you, why you let him lounge around your room at any hour of the day when he was bored, why you brought him snacks when he was too busy training to eat, why you let him drag you and the others about simply because he wanted you all to tag along with him everywhere.

Satoru Gojo could have asked you for the moon, and you would have pulled it down by a rope just to see him smile at you and feel his arms wrap around your frame as he pulled you into an overbearing hug.

You loved him to death. You loved him more than you thought your teenage heart capable of loving anyone, and you feared his knowledge of your feelings because of how prideful he was, because of how many girls harbored the same crush, and because of how many confessions he received on a daily basis.

You wanted to protect yourself from heartbreak by the world’s most desirable boy. You didn’t want to make yourself look so pathetic before him, more so than any ordinary person already was, but the way he begged for you… the way those big eyes drew you in and his hands framed your face, the way he looked at you as if you were the only thing that could save him from his mental torment had you giving in completely.

“Okay,” you nodded, releasing his wrists to cup his face in return. He swooned, hands falling into his lap as he submerged himself in your touch. “Okay, I’ll stay.”

A whimper fell past his lips as he fell into you, head collapsing into your chest and hands gripping around your thighs. Your hands moved to his back, stroking him soothingly as he clutched you to him, murmuring nonsense. You could tell his intoxication was tipping into exhausting by the way he slumped into you, and you sighed. He was going to be the death of you, this one.

The time ticked closer to three once you had managed to get him to let you change him out of his pants and gurgle some mouthwash before going to bed. He kept himself close to you for the rest of the night, whether it was by clinging to your shirt or holding your hand or leaning his head over your shoulder. He had gone completely nonverbal, relying on his actions instead to convey his desperation for your closeness to him.

You had finally managed to get him into bed at 3:30 am. He plopped down into his messy sheets, face smothered by the pillow and feet hanging off the edge of the bed. He was too tall for his own good.

You were busying yourself with turning out his lights when you saw his hand twitch out, grasping through the air. You knew what he was asking.

You slipped your shoes off and pulled your sweatshirt over your head, leaving you in your night tee and shorts. You carefully climbed onto the soft furniture, grabbing Satoru’s outstretched hand. He turned himself to face you immediately, yanking you down into him. You squeaked, collapsing beside him on the bed.

He didn’t let you move to grab the comforter to pull it over your body. Instead, he threw his arms around you and buried his face into the crook of your neck, securing a leg over yours and trapping you against him for the final time that night.

You tensed, Gojo’s hair brushing softly against your chin as his warm breath fanned contently against your neck. He curled himself into you, clutching you as though you were his last lifeline.

He stroked his hair softly, scratching his scalp as the beat of your heart lulled him into sleep.

You exhaled softly, staring up at the ceiling as sleep slowly overtook your body. You prayed that Satoru wouldn’t remember this night. He normally woke up late, so you hoped that you would at least have had time to slip from his room in the morning and disappear into yours.

You wanted to forget everything. You wanted to forget the way he looked at you, the way he held you, the way he touched you. You wanted to bury it all deep down, to move on as friends like you always had been and always would be. You wanted to leave it all behind, but Satoru had a hold on you that you could not escape. It was the effect he had. Consuming, powerful, and entirely too dangerous for you to indulge.

Satoru was a needy drunk. That was all you could chalk him and the intimacy of this night up to be. A consequence of his intoxication.

But somewhere deep within you, somewhere you did not bother to explore, a spark of hope glimmered for your love, a spark that made you believe just for a moment that Satoru loved you too.

2K notes · View notes

horangare · 1 year

Text

lucky girl

pairing : model!jeonghan x fem!reader

content : smut (mdni), angst, fluff, fake dating, unrequited (but not rlly) love, friends to strangers to lovers

in which : jeonghan has no interest in a relationship, however it seems that everyone else is sticking their nose into his nonexistent love life. you’ve been in love with him for as long as you can remember, but that was ages ago. he shouldn’t remember someone like you, but he does. and he wants you to be his girlfriend (just for a little while though, right?)

warnings : public sex TWICE (this mf fucks u everywhere but a BED), couch sex (see what i mean???), oral (m & f receiving), unprotected sex (be safe i’m begging), idiots in love vibes like so strongly you two are dorks fr, dirty talk, y’all want each other so bad, praise, cockiness, like one innuendo, a bunch of other idols make features in this (twice, txt, le sserafim, and svt ofc), mentions of rehab, crying, “arguing”, jealousy, pining and yearning and things of that nature

wc : 14.9K words

note : this took me so much longer than i thought it would but it’s finally here 😭😭 written from this request

Junior year of highschool is when you first fell in love with Yoon Jeonghan.

You were the new girl. The transfer student. The awkward, hormonal, sixteen year old girl who felt oh so small in such a big school. The nobody.

Pretending like the lingering stares, the pointing, the whispering—all of it—was just a figment of your imagination was easy. You had been used to tuning things out. At acting like it didn’t phase you.

Private school was different than public school. Too different. The only reason you were in this place is because you were sent to live with your aunt because of the fact that your mother was in rehab and your dad wasn’t in the picture. Many of the public schools in the area weren’t the best, so she pulled some extra money from her savings to send you one of the nicer, private schools.

You were grateful, for her concern regarding where you went to school, but the huge contrast from transitioning to this new place was anything but easy. You may have looked just like everyone else, but you never felt like them. A bunch of self obsessed, privileged, stuck up rich kids. Yeah, you weren’t that. Not by a long shot. It’s like they could tell you didn’t belong here, but you already knew that.

All of them except for him.

Jeonghan had heard the mumbled talk of your arrival since he arrived on campus. He didn’t get what the big idea was. New kids came all the time, bought their way in with mommy and daddy’s help. Each and every other student here was one in the same. Predictable. Boring.

“Shit, look, there she is,” Joshua whispered amongst the small group of boys, his head jerking in your direction. The rest of them—Minghao, Mingyu, Soonyoung, and Jeonghan—all spared you a single glance or two.

Minghao chuckled dryly. “She’s gonna get eaten alive.”

"She's kinda hot though, don’t you think?" Soonyoung mumbled, trailing his eyes over your body. "That skirt is way too small for her."

“It’s like six in the morning. Can you not be horny right now?” Mingyu sighed, yet Soonyoung’s gaze remained on you until you disappeared from his line of sight. Jeonghan remained silent.

Joshua nudged his friend. “What? You have nothing to say?”

“What is there to say?” Jeonghan asked, swirling around his iced coffee that had been way too expensive to taste so cheap. “She’s a girl and she’s new.” Soonyoung booed him, loudly, attracting the attention of other passing students.

“You’re no fun.” He said and crossed his arms. Jeonghan gave him no response. “Whatever. How long do you think she’ll last?”

“I’ll give her until the end of the day,” Mingyu nodded. The others looked at him in disbelief, which made the boy roll his eyes. “What? I’m an optimist.”

Soonyoung hummed in thought, weighing his available options. “Four hours max.”

Minghao shook his head. “Two and a half.”

“I’m gonna say…One hour.” Joshua added. Then they all turned their heads to Jeonghan. He didn’t respond until the staring became unbearable.

“God, you’re all such pessimists, you know that?” He scoffed. “I’m not doing this with you today.”

“You have faith in her,” Minghao teased, poking the older boy in the side. “You’re so easy to read.”

“Cut that shit out.” Jeonghan hissed, pushing away Minghao’s hand. Minghao, Mingyu, and Joshua giggled. He was so easy to piss off.

“I’m gonna go talk to her,” Soonyoung cracked his knuckles with a confident—bordering on arrogant—smile.

“Seriously, don’t—” Minghao sighed, but the other boy was beyond reason. By the time he even said anything, Soonyoung was literally in your face.

The expression on your face was pensive, relaxed even. Until…

“Hey, new girl.”

You looked up, your eyes looking over him with disinterest. Soonyoung cleared his throat when you didn’t reply, running his hand through his hair in an attempt to relieve the awkward atmosphere.

“I’m Soonyoung, but you can call me Hoshi.”

“No.” You deadpanned.

His eyes widened. Were you serious? He could hear the others trying to keep in their laughter behind him.

“Is there something you need?” You asked, raising one of your eyebrows. Soonyoung stammered, only managing to speak the words “I…” or “what?” before he sighed and lowered his head.

“Hoshi, are you done making yourself look stupid yet?” Mingyu shouted, stopping between almost every word so he could laugh. By now, there was an even bigger scene being made by Mingyu’s additional comment, much to your embarrassment.

“Excuse me,” you mumbled to him as you scurried off to the bathroom, leaving not only Soonyoung shocked but also the little audience you had gathered shocked as well.

“Wow, what a smooth talker.” Joshua clapped, a wide grin on his face. “She was all over you.”

Minghao giggled. “I recorded the entire thing. Hey, who should I send this to first?”

“Oh fuck off,” Soonyoung hissed, his face flushed with embarrassment. “Nobody needs to see that shit.”

“Right, like half the school hasn’t already.” Jeonghan gestured to the multitude of people still lingering around in the hallways, huddled in groups whispering about the events that had just happened. Glancing at Joshua after you were gone, he smirked.

“So?” Joshua asked. “What’s your judgement?”

Jeonghan sipped the last of his drink, shaking it around and poking at the ice with his straw to see if there was any left. When he discovered none, he discarded the cup in the trash and crossed his arms over his chest. “I like her.”

You spent very little time in the bathroom, your visit only being to calm your nerves and steady your thoughts, but you didn’t expect to see the same boy and the rest of his friends huddled outside the bathroom waiting for you.

Wide-eyed, you stared between the five of them.“Um…hello?”

“Hi!” Mingyu smiled at you brightly, side eyeing Jeonghan when he nudged him aside. A quiet gasp slips past your lips; this boy was gorgeous.

“I assume you have a name? Or should we continue calling you new girl?”

“My name…?” You repeated, feeling your body growing warm at the proximity between the two of you. “Oh, my name. I’m [Y/n].” Jeonghan nodded, and then he smiled at you. You felt even hotter now. A little dumb, too, certain that you were embarrassing yourself.

“That’s cute,” he said, still smiling softly. Jeonghan threw one of his arms over your shoulder, keeping you close to him as he and the rest of his friends started to walk down the hallway. “So then, you’ll sit with us at lunch, right [Y/n]?” You stared at him, dumbfounded, unable to believe that he was actually being serious with you. Soonyoung, finding this funny, couldn’t help but laugh.

“Who’s stammering now?” He quipped, earning him a glare from Jeonghan. Soonyoung didn’t speak again.

“Sit with you?” You asked again, and Jeonghan nodded. “Are you sure?” Everyone’s eyes seemed to be on you as you were basically escorted down the hall with Jeonghan at your side, except this time it wasn’t your imagination. For some reason it felt like you were being stared at now more than ever.

“Of course we’re sure.” Joshua reassured you. When he looked close enough to fully take in the look on your face, he gave you a smile that was full of sympathy. “Ignore them. They’re all assholes. We’re the nice ones!”

Joshua was right, in a way. Jeonghan and his friends were the nicest group of assholes you’ve ever been associated with. It was one of those “mean to everyone except you” type of dynamics, especially with Jeonghan himself. You knew it wasn’t wise to, but you couldn’t help how your heart would beat faster whenever he was around since he only seemed to regard you as a close friend and nothing more.

You also couldn’t help but notice that he was as oblivious as he was cute. The others noticed, (Joshua was the first, obviously, then Minghao, then Mingyu, and then Soonyoung, who was heartbroken that you’d choose Jeonghan over him, and you didn’t know if he was joking or not) but he seemed like the only one who couldn’t get a hint. Even when you were being as direct and obvious as possible, Jeonghan still remained as unaffected by your affection as a white crayon did on white paper.

By senior year, you and Jeonghan started to grow apart. It was gradual, falling out of touch with one another as the last school year just passed you both by, until it seemed like Jeonghan was once again nothing but the cute boy you knew nothing about like he had been on your first day. The rest of the boys were devastated, Joshua most of all.

Aside from you, it seemed like he was the one who wanted Jeonghan to quit being dull and realize you liked him. Just tell him already, that’s what he’d always say. You always said you would, only to end up doing the opposite.

What if Jeonghan didn’t feel the same way? What if it destroyed your friendship? What if he never wanted anything to do with you after you told him? Each question seemed more unbearable than the last. It was easier to love him than to lose him.

The last time you saw him was at graduation. After the ceremony, roaming around the parking lot past all the smiling families taking pictures of their children with their brand new diplomas, looking for your aunt’s car—you ran into him.

“[Y/n]!” He called out to you, waving both of his arms in the air to draw your attention. He hugged you once you were close enough, squeezing you a little bit. “I’m sad now, we’re not going to see each other every day anymore,” he pouted, and you smiled, even though the thought of that saddened you just as much.

Having him act so naturally with you threw you for such a loop. Talking to him like this made it feel like your friendship hadn’t come to an end, like you two were old friends who had never been apart.

“Don’t be sad. I’m sure we’ll run into each other again.” You continued to smile, trying hard to make sure it didn’t look fake. You needed to believe what you were saying if you wanted him to do the same. Luckily for you it seemed effective, because Jeonghan’s face soon broke into a smile as well before he held his pinky up to you.

“Promise?”

Now you were smiling for real. Jeonghan, at the ripe age of eighteen, still believed deeply in pinky promises. They were sacred, never to be broken, those were his words. Others may have found him childish for this, you found it noble.

Nodding, you linked your pinky with his. “Promise.”

The promise you made with Jeonghan turned five today. Five years since senior year ended, five years since you made that promise with him, five years since you’ve seen Yoon Jeonghan’s face in person.

Now you saw him everywhere; on billboards, in ads, plastered on posters in the windows of just about every store—everywhere you went, Jeonghan’s face was sure to be there.

He was certainly doing better than you, no doubt. Odds are he wouldn’t even recognize you anymore. You worked at the local Ihop, drive your aunt’s old Toyota Camry, trying to save up enough money to move out of her house and into your own apartment.

You had wanted to attend college, even if only for a little, but your aunt only had enough money stashed away to send you to that ridiculously pricey private school, not to mention room she was already taking care of you for your mom while she was still…away, and you couldn’t afford to go into debt or pay anyone back.

So while Jeonghan walked runways in Milan and New York, you stayed in town and missed him every time his name was mentioned by one of your coworkers, forcing away the feelings you harbored for him.

Something like that was bound to happen to him, though. He was already so handsome, and his parents no doubt had the connections needed to allow something like that for their son. You were happy for him. Even after all this time, you continued to remain his biggest supporter. You’d buy every product he endorsed, watch any content he was featured in, and you’d stare at his pictures in awe, unable to believe that he just always seemed to get more and more good looking.

To Jeonghan, it was different. He enjoyed the attention. He liked being told by other people how handsome he was. He liked having people who adored him. But that was about it. Not once did he enjoy waking up early, rushing from shoot to shoot, sitting through meetings, none of it. He could live without the pressure to keep smiling, or the nagging from his parents, or—worst of all—the questions on his love life.

Jeonghan had never dated anyone since becoming a model, not even in private. There were zero scandals regarding a romantic relationship when it came to him, but the media was still unconvinced. He wondered how or why they always found the time to be so nosy. Why couldn’t they understand that’s just not what he was looking for right now?

“So Jeonghan, I think you all know the question on every one of our minds, right?” Jihyo asked with a smile, shifting around in her seat a little. Jeonghan responded with his convincing fake laughs—he had to have them mastered by now after all the invasive questions he’d constantly be asked by people like the paparazzi, or in this case, talk-show hosts. “Is there a special girl in your life that you’re hiding from us?”

The audience erupted into a fit of “ooo’s” and “aah’s” all while Jeonghan tried to hide his discomfort with the subject. “Honestly, Jihyo? There really is nobody right now. I’m just…not interested in dating.”

“Oh, come on! Are you sure you’re not seeing anyone in secret?” The sound of Jihyo’s laughter echoed through the studio as is blended with the reactions from the audience. Jeonghan laughed along with her, wondering how much longer he’d be here. He’d already had to have a long meeting with his parents and his agency this morning, then done a product endorsement for a cosmetics brand afterwards, and now he was here, entertaining Jihyo and her live studio audience. Today was relatively low maintenance for him, so after he left here there was only one thing he wanted to do before going home; eat.

Jeonghan shook his head, a small smile on his face. “If I were seeing someone, they wouldn’t be a secret.”

Jihyo’s face lit up in surprise, her mouth parting as she took in his response. “Wow! It seems like Jeonghan is that kind of boyfriend, huh?” Various reactions came from the crowd, most of them being screams of Jeonghan’s name praising him for his response. “All right, that’s all the time we have for today, but tune in tomorrow to hear Jo Yuri talk about her acting debut! That’s all for now!”

“Alright, that’s it people! Let’s wrap it up!”

Jeonghan exhaled with relief, saying a polite goodbye to Jihyo before he excused himself off the set and to his car. He cursed when he noticed how dark the sky was beginning to get. Most of the places he wanted to go would be closing by now. He thought hard to remember the places that stayed open late, then remembered that the local Ihop was always open. He wasn’t the biggest fan of the place, not by a long shot, but he’d just have to suck it up for the sake of his hunger.

Business at work had been slow today. It was only Monday, and you never got too much of a crowd during the start of the week, especially not when it was so early in the morning. Chaewon had suggested the two of you take a short break in the bathroom (though knowing her, she just wanted to gossip).

“No way, [Y/n]. You’re telling me you really knew Jeonghan in high school?” Chaewon asked you, leaning against the bathroom sink as she brushed some of her hair out of her face. “What was he like?”

You shrugged as you washed your hands. “He was nice. Well, he was nice to me.” This made Chaewon gasp and grab onto your shoulder, pressing her lips together to try and hide the smile creeping onto her face.

“Oh my gosh, he was totally into you!”

Yoon Jeonghan? Into you? You laughed dryly, really finding your friend’s enthusiasm cute, but at the same time you seriously doubted it. If what he said in those interviews were true, there was no chance. He wasn’t interested in dating; in relationships altogether.

You were just about to respond to her when the door to the bathroom flew open. Sakura, your manager, was standing in the doorway staring at the two of you like she’d caught you doing something you shouldn’t have.

“What are you two still doing in here?” She asked. “Someone is waiting to have their order taken.”

“Coming,” you sighed, patting your hands dry with three paper towels too many and rushing out behind Sakura. You approached one of the booths closer to the entrance, notepad in hand. “Welcome to Ihop, what can I—”

The person sitting in the booth lowers the menu, and time seems to stop. He looks up at you. You look down at him. It was like neither of you could believe you were seeing each other in this setting, of all places.

“Jeong…han?” You mumbled, blinking rapidly to see if he was really the person sitting there. He couldn’t really be here, could he? But then he smirked and you were convinced; he was real.

“It’s good to see you too, [Y/n].” He muses, flipping back and forth through the menu a few more times before setting in down on the table. He soaks in the dumbfounded look on your face with an overly smug smile. “Don’t just stand there, sit.”

“I’m the waitress, I can’t just—”

“Sit.”

You slid down into the seat across from him without missing a beat. A part of you felt embarrassed for giving into him so easily, the part of you with dignity.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, which got you an amused laugh from Jeonghan.

“I’m hungry, [Y/n]. Why else do people come to Ihop?”

Well, it was good to know he was still a smart ass after all this time. Even if you were attracted to him, then and now, you still couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Okay, you know that’s not what I mean.”

Jeonghan tilted his head to one side. “I live here too, remember?” Then he sighed and laughed weakly. “Has it really been that long?”

A frown found its way onto your lips. Maybe it has been that long, it was like Jeonghan was suddenly a stranger to you even after the time you’d spent together in school. Thinking about that made something inside of you ache.

“I guess it has.” You mumbled. Your eyes remained locked on the table and not Jeonghan, not even when he started to give you his order. Sliding out of the seat, you gave him your usual service industry smile. “I’ll be right back with that.”

You scrambled to the kitchen, handing off the order to the cooks. “Hey, Chaewon, can you go bring the customer out there his drink?”

Slightly skeptical, Chaewon glanced down at the glass in your hand yet took it anyway. “Why can’t you go bring it to him? You already took his order.”

“Just help me out, okay? Just this once?” The girl sighed, mumbling under her breath as she exited the kitchen. You try to take this moment to finally catch your breath and calm your nerves, but it’s quickly ruined when you hear a shriek, followed by Chaewon running back to the kitchen, a starstruck look on her face.

“Yoon Jeonghan is in our restaurant,” she says, her hand clutching the front of her shirt. “And he’s asking for you, [Y/n].”

Of course he’s asking for you. There was no way you’d get out of this little reunion with him so easily. Jeonghan never let things be simple, you’d learned that quickly from your time being friends with him.

“Just bring the food once it’s ready, Chae,” you muttered, walking out of the kitchen and back to the booth Jeonghan was seated at. He looked up at you, pointing to the spot across from him, and you sat. “Is there something you want from me, Jeonghan?”

“Just some company,” He replied with a faux pout. He noticed that you were still looking at him like you could see through his lie, so he shrugged and smiled. “Okay, fine. I really did come here to eat, but I do need help with something else too.”

Raising your eyebrows, you urged him to continue. “I need you to be my girlfriend.” If you had opened your eyes any wider, they probably might have popped out of your head.

“W-What?” You shouted. Jeonghan put one of his fingers to his lips to shush you, which only helped to get you quiet and not to calm your racing heart. “But you’re always saying…”

“Listen,” He held one of your hand with both of his. “I know, I know. I’m always saying I’m not looking to date right now. But that’s exactly why I need you. I’m hoping to get everyone off my fucking back even if it’s just for a little while. Once the news of our relationship dies down, we can call it quits.”

You felt like this was a really vivid dream; like your subconscious was playing an elaborate trick on you and that none of this was actually real. Jeonghan squeezed your hand and looked at you expectantly. This must’ve been really important to him, and he was counting on you. Curse your simple heart, seven years had passed and you still felt like the love struck sixteen year old you were when you first met him.

This was a bad idea. No, this was a terrible idea. You should tell him that. There is no way you should say—

“Okay, fine. But only until the news dies down.”

Jeonghan grinned, visibly pleased with your response.

“I knew I could count on you.”

Thinking with your brain was always hard for you to do whenever you even thought about him, so having him make such a large request of you was basically keeping you from acting with any sort of rationality.

But Jeonghan didn’t need to know all that. You propped your elbow up on the cool surface of the table and leaned your head into the palm of your hand, swallowing down your apprehension. “What are friends for?”

When you woke up the next morning, the only thing on your mind was Jeonghan. Your interaction with him at your job hadn’t been a dream. He had asked you to be his (pretend) girlfriend, and you had agreed. You partly regretted the decision like you would a hangover, knowing that you still had feelings for him and telling him you’d go along with his plans could only end so many ways. You’d have to stop thinking with your heart so often.

In your moment of doubt, you received a text from Jeonghan. After he had finished his very late lunch yesterday, he tore off a piece of the receipt and scribbled down his phone number on it for you to keep, leaving you behind with a generous tip and a fuzzy feeling in your stomach. Fucking butterflies.

He’d also left you a very lovely, romantic text.

I’m picking you up at 7:45.

Ever the charmer. You checked the time; it was exactly 7. You groaned and hoped that this wouldn’t become an everyday thing, you didn’t even go into work this early.

Jeonghan ended up arriving outside your aunt’s house ten minutes later than he said he would, which only made you feel dumb for racing against the clock to make yourself look presentable.

He kept his eyes on you as you buckled up. “Good morning.” You side-eyed him, just barely making out the stupid lopsided grin on his lips.

“For you, maybe.”

“You’ll get used to it, I already have.”

So this would be an everyday thing. Great.

Accompanying Jeonghan around had given you a unique perspective on your own life. You had already thought there was a lot on your own plate, but Jeonghan, you weren’t sure how he handled it all. Sitting through meetings, fittings, hair and makeup, and photoshoot after photoshoot was tiring you out and you weren’t even the model.

You did like the rush of pride you got whenever Jeonghan introduced you as his girlfriend. Getting to see the shocked look on the faces of the people who worked beside him made you feel like you were important. If you didn’t have to get up so early all the time, maybe this was something you could get used to.

“It’s boring, right?” Jeonghan said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“What do you mean?”

He sighed, waving away the man that was wiping off his makeup. “The sitting around, the waiting, all of it. You’re bored, aren’t you?”

You raised one of your eyebrows. “Why would you think I’m bored?” You asked. “Are you bored?”

“Obviously,” he scoffed in reply. “I would’ve rather done pretty much anything else. I mentioned being a model, like, one time and they just went with it. I didn’t wanna argue with my parents, though.” He shrugged, and that was it.

There was a sudden awkward tension in the air with Jeonghan’s overly honest confession. You glanced at the man who was in charge of removing his makeup, sharing a sheepish look with him before breaking eye contact. He was two for two on the eye opening revelations today, and you weren’t too sure you could handle a third.

Clearing your throat, you tried to think of a way to steer the conversation into a different direction. “So, uh, where to after this?”

“The gym. I would’ve gone tomorrow but Joshua said he’d meet me there.”

Finally, a break in this drag of a schedule of his. And you’d get to see Joshua. You could feel your boredom melting away like ice on a hot day as you got up and stretched.

“I’ll be in the car.”

So, about the visit to the gym…

It was fine at first. Normal. You greeted Joshua, hugged him, expressed how good it was to see him and how much you had missed him after all this time, and he smiled and done the same.

Speaking of Joshua, he had almost screamed when Jeonghan mentioned that you and him were seeing each other, and when he looked at you to confirm that he was telling the truth, he did scream, earning him confused and concerned stares from the people around you. Lying to him warded off the happy feeling you had built up on the way over here in a heartbeat, so you stayed silent for the duration of his workout with Jeonghan.

“Shit, dude, I gotta go. Something just came up,” Joshua apologized quickly and rushed out of the building, leaving just you, Jeonghan, and a small handful of other people rich or important enough to get into this private space.

You weren’t sure why, maybe it was the hot, sticky air of the gym. Maybe it was Jeonghan sitting there, all sweaty and panting and looking at you with that stupidly sexy smirk on his face. Maybe it was a bunch of other things you couldn’t bring your mind to conjure up the words for, but something was about to happen, you could feel it.

“I should shower.” Jeonghan suddenly said, parting his sweaty body from the machine he had been occupying. His eyes flashed with something you couldn’t quite place. “Wanna join?”

That’s the short version of how you ended up pressed up against the wall gym shower, your back to Jeonghan as he took you from behind. Your head spun with desire and a dash of shame. Even though it felt really good, you hadn’t even kissed Jeonghan once since declaring your status as (fake) girlfriend and boyfriend.

“Oh, baby. If I had known you felt this good I’d have done this ages ago,” Jeonghan moaned into your ear, and you could feel your knees buckle under you. That sweet-talking mouth of his would definitely be a problem for you, you were calling it now. Hearing such vulgar comments fall from his lips so naturally made you wonder why he was so good at this.

“F-Fuck, Jeonghan. Don’t stop…” The tiles of the small shower felt cold and wet against your skin, the feeling being the only thing keeping you somewhat grounded. Jeonghan’s hands held your hips tightly when you almost slipped as he mumbled something about being careful. If you weren’t in this position you’d have slapped him. “You’re not funny.”

Jeonghan isn’t bothered by your remark in the slightest. He snaps his hips forward, loving the way you gasp and push yourself back to meet his thrusts. He really thought you looked cute like this, so easily losing your composure because of him. He knew about the effect he could have on people, but none of them mattered now that he saw how you reacted to him. “Tell me how it feels baby.”

“So good, Jeonghan. F-Feels so fucking good.” You whined, your mine tuned in on the feeling of his wet skin against yours and the sounds of both of your moans.

“That’s right, feels so good. You’re so cute, you know that?”

Your muscles clenching around his cock when he said that was the one thing that seemed to have Jeonghan lose his cool. He nestled his face in the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking at the skin there while he rubbed your clit in fast circles, urging you closer and closer to the bliss of your release.

“Gonna…I’m g-gonna—” You try to say only to be cut off by your own hoarse wail of Jeonghan’s name as your orgasm hits you. Afraid that you might fall, Jeonghan holds onto you even tighter all while continuing to fuck you through your high. He glances down, biting his lip at the sight of the white ring forming at the base of his cock and the streaks of cum streaking down your inner thighs. Never did he think a visual so filthy would get him off, but he couldn’t help but bite your shoulder and curse quietly as he felt himself cum.

The water had gone cold by now, making the realization of just how long you’d been in here weigh heavy on your mind. Jeonghan squeezed one of your hips before he pulled out of you and stepped out to find some towels. You turned off the cool water, leaning back against the same wall you’d just been fucked against and sighed.

Now you really couldn’t go back.

Out of nowhere, a hauntingly embarrassing thought crawled its way into your mind. “Oh no,” you gasped. “Jeonghan, what if someone heard us?” He just laughed at your panicked words.

“Private gym, private showers.” He explained, smiling when you visibly relaxed. “You make some pretty funny faces, has anyone ever told you that?”

You rolled your eyes, but there was a smile on your face. “Yeah, you have, back in school.” There had been many instances in your teenage years where Jeonghan had often laughed harder to your reactions to certain events more than the event itself, and he’d always tell you how “fascinating” your range of facial expressions were. History does repeat itself after all. “Has it really been that long?” Hearing the words he’d said to you the other day elicited a soft chuckle from Jeonghan as he pulled your body closer to his, wrapping one of the warm towels around your shivering frame.

You didn’t like the way your heart was beating faster at an action as simple as that as if he hadn’t just had his way with you in that little cubicle this place dared to call a shower, but you just laughed with him and hoped that he wouldn’t notice.

“I guess it has.”

When you returned to work on Friday, you received a warm welcome from your favorite coworker and best friend.

Translation: Chaewon screaming at the top of her lungs and shaking you back and forth.

“You didn’t tell me you’re DATING YOON JEONGHAN!” Her grip was entering bruise territory. “I thought we were friends!”

“Chaewon, please,” Sakura sighed, prying you out of her arms. “You’re dating that boy that came in the other day? What’s the big deal?”

Chaewon had never looked so shocked. Well, that’s a lie, but right now that’s just how her face looked. “The big deal is him! He’s literally everywhere, Sakura. He’s YOON JEONGHAN!”

The customers could no doubt hear her frantic screaming from the kitchen despite your best efforts to make her quiet down. Unfortunately trying to get Chaewon to calm down was like trying to get a penguin to fly.

“How do you even know about that anyway?” You asked. Chaewon held up a finger, quickly pulling her phone out of her pocket and typing a few words into google and hitting search. She held it out to you and Sakura, and your jaw dropped.

Pictures of you and Jeonghan leaving the gym together, hand in hand, along with a plethora of articles inquiring about your identity as Jeonghan’s girlfriend. Your face wasn’t visible in any of them, but anyone who knew you could tell that you were the one beside him in those photos.

“Oh, wow. Yeah, that’s you alright.” Sakura hummed without even sparing you a glance. “That’s nice. He’s a handsome guy. Good for you, [Y/n].”

You smiled, feeling a little awkward with all the sudden attention. “Thanks, Kkura.” You couldn’t even prepare yourself to be grabbed by Chaewon a second time, so you just let it happen.

“Tell. Me. Everything.”

“Uh…”

“You can talk after work,” Sakura sighed, pulling you away from Chaewon once again. “[Y/n]’s boyfriend will still be with her after her shift is over.”

You really hoped so.

For almost the entirety of your shift, you were somewhat unfocused on your actual job and more on the leaked pictures of you and Jeonghan. Never had you been used to having so much attention on you, especially over a guy. Of course, Jeonghan wasn’t just any guy, but still. All of the hype had to be because of what he’d always preached about not being interested in dating, no doubt, but other than that your sentiment was similar to that of your manager’s: what’s the big deal?

Chaewon also seemed off, though it was mostly only because she couldn’t wait to pick your brain about your relationship with the model. She kept looking at you and smiling for the entirety of your shift, and you’d just try and pretend you didn’t see her. It was working fine until you know who came back to pay you another unexpected visit.

“Hey, your boyfriend is here!” She whispered to you when you returned from a quick trip to the bathroom. You felt confused and surprised at the same time, he was supposed to be…anywhere but here right now. The stupid organ in your chest jumped when you considered the possibility that he was actually here for you.

Making your way to the front of the restaurant, Jeonghan stood there, hands in his pockets, looking pleased to see you.

“Jeonghan, what are you doing here?” He pouted at you.

“Is that the only question you know how to ask me?” You crossed your arms, not in the mood for his little games right now. “Sorry, fine. I wanted to see you. Make sure you’re handling the news well.”

“News…? Oh, that.” You weren’t too thrilled to talk about your sudden rise to fame even though it had been the only thing on your mind ever since finding out from Chaewon today. Kind of ironic. “It’s whatever, I guess. I mean, I couldn’t believe it when Chaewon showed me the pictures, but that was pretty much it.” You shrugged.

“Wow,” Jeonghan hummed. “Have you always been this blunt? Where’s the girl with the bob? I like her energy better.” He started to laugh, the sound only getting louder when you hit him on the chest. You knew didn’t hurt him, not even in the slightest, and his cute giggling only made you madder. Damn him and his smart mouth. “Just kidding, baby.”

And there he goes with the nicknames again. Seriously, damn him and his smart talking, filthy, mouth and all the words he’d speak with it to get you all flustered.

“You never answered me. Don’t you have a photo shoot or a fitting, or, I don’t know, somewhere else to be instead of Ihop on a Friday?”

Jeonghan just smiled at you. “Forgive me for wanting to just stop by and say hello to my girlfriend.”

“Jeonghan.”

Your eyes watched him as he tried to bite back the smile on his lips to no avail. He nodded slowly, seemingly getting the hint that you could always manage to see right through him. He didn’t know if it was a good or bad thing.

“Alright, alright. You remember that show I was on not too long ago? The one with Jiyho?” Of course you remembered. Chaewon had sent the link to the video once it was uploaded to youtube (like she did with everything involving Jeonghan) along with a bunch of incorrectly spelled words in all caps expressing her excitement and disbelief. He continued speaking once you nodded. “Yeah, so, she pretty much wants me back on the show…with you.” He puts his hands on your shoulders, waiting for you to object to the whole thing.

But you don’t object. You glance to the side once, then back at him, and shrug like you had done moments earlier. “Okay. I’m off on Wednesdays and Thursdays.” The man in front of you sighed and shook his head.

“She wants us there tomorrow. Can’t you get someone else to come in for you, or something?”

You exhaled a heavy, dramatic sigh. “Fine. But you owe me, okay? This is coming out of my paycheck.” The look of utter happiness on Jeonghan’s face whenever you give into him is something you think you’ll never get tired of seeing, like he really thought it’d take more convincing to get you to say yes. You’ve literally been wrapped around his finger since you were sixteen, it was honestly surprising that he had the nerve to explain himself to you sometimes when you damn near lacked the ability to say no to him.

“You’re the best,” he was still smiling when he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow, okay? Wear something cute.”

You made some sort of strange yet quiet noise of acknowledgment, watching him with slightly parted lips as he walked out of the doors and back to his car. Jeonghan had just kissed you. On the forehead, yeah, but it was still a kiss. And not like he had kissed you in the shower, either, this one felt different. Tingly. You’d have probably stayed rooted to that spot if Sakura hadn’t started yelling for you to get back to work.

“Coming!”

Mornings always seemed to come too fast for you, especially when you were going anywhere with Jeonghan. Time had to be speeding up on purpose knowing that you were always rushing to get ready lest you make Jeonghan late to one of his unmissable and very important (that you were still shocked to discover how much he despised) events.

You were worried about wearing the “wrong thing” even though you had no idea you should wear for something like this and texted Jeonghan for help last night. He responded with a short explanation of what he’d be wearing and said that you could just wear whatever you thought would match or complement what he’d have on. And then he’d sent one more a few minutes after that. One that read:

good night [y/n] sleep thigh

You had responded with a series of question marks, expecting some kind of explanation or clarification, but he must’ve gone to sleep right after that because there was no response for the rest of the night.

So when you had settled yourself into the passenger seat of his car, you’d decide to question him about it now.

“Oh, I meant sleep tight,” Jeonghan told you. He pointed at the seatbelt, staring at you until you were buckled up and only then did the car start to move. “Were you really thinking about that all night? Even I make spelling mistakes, [Y/n].”

You could sense that he was about to start laughing even before you started talking. “No! I just…whatever, nevermind.” And you’d been right, Jeonghan laughed just like he always did whenever you seemed to make what you considered a fool of yourself in front of him. He noticed that you were frowning from the corner of his eye and placed one of his hands on your thigh. You flinched at the contact.

“What?” He asked, starting to pull it away, but you grabbed it and placed it back down.

“Nothing.” You shook your head. “It’s nothing. Your hands are just cold.” This made him smirk. He poked your cheek, your forearm, and your upper thigh, the smile on his face getting wider each time you shivered and tried to push it away. “Quit it!”

“You like it,” he was giggling now, and you were too. You didn’t even realize that you were until he had pointed to your mouth and laughed even harder. As long as Jeonghan had known you, you’d never giggled before. He joked that he was starting to rub off on you as he poked you with his cold fingers one more time. “I like that dress, by the way.” His hand found its way back to your thigh, feeling slightly less cold now. Maybe the heat of your body was warming him up, because you definitely felt hot right now.

“Thank you.”

“Mhm. You wore it just for me, didn’t you?”

Your eyes grew the slightest bit wider. That was partly the truth, yes. You’d also worn it because he’d told you to wear something nice and this dress just so happened to be one of the nicest pieces of clothing you owned that was appropriate for an event like this. The former option seemed to be the one he was more interested in though, seeing as how he was pushing up the hem of the dress and glancing at your underwear—and the wet patch on it.

“Well, yeah, you kinda told me to.” Jeonghan loved the fact that you were actively choosing to either ignore the fact that you were wet right now or pretend like it didn’t faze you. He pressed one of his (still somewhat cold) fingers on the spot and started to rub it, making you shiver and moan. “J-Jeonghan, you’re doing this now?”

“Ah, you know what? You’re right. My hands are still cold, aren’t they?” He mumbled, but his hand stayed placed firmly against your upper thigh. You hated the way you whined at his teasing and the way you craved more. “Aww, baby. I was just doing what you wanted. Are you mad at me now?”

“You’re literally the worst!” Huffing, you slapped his hand away and Jeonghan, stubborn as ever, just placed it right back down on your thigh. “Don’t touch me.” You tried sounding stern despite the way you were starting to grin, much to Jeonghan’s amusement.

“I owe you one, okay?” His voice was full of nothing but sincerity as he pulled the edges of your dress back down. “Put on a good show for Jihyo and I’ll let you cum as many times as you want later, deal?”

Your response came immediately, like you hadn’t even had to think about it. “Deal.”

Jihyo was even prettier in person. You weren’t used to seeing her without her hair in a bob, like Chaewon, but she seemed to be in the process of growing her hair out. Her skin was a little tanner in person and she had a smile that was kind and natural, which made you feel at ease.

“So, everyone, I’m sure you’ve all seen the pictures, right? Of Jeonghan and his supposed girlfriend?” Jihyo turned so that she faced the audience, nodding along at their responses. “I know, I saw them too, and when I tell you my jaw literally dropped. I was like, I’ve gotta get him back on the show. Well here he is, everyone! And with his mystery girl too!” She held one of her arms out and the audience erupted into applause seeing you and Jeonghan hand in hand walk onto the set. Jihyo clapped as well, watching the two of you the whole time while you took your seats beside each other.

“It’s good to be back, Jihyo. Thanks for having me.” Jeonghan was as polite as ever, his fingers still interlaced with your own. The woman just scoffed and shook her head.

“Oh, it’s nothing! You know how much of a joy you are to have on set.” Then she turned to you, eyebrows shooting up. “And you! What’s your name, sweetie?”

“I’m [Y/n].” The smile on your face was a little awkward, but the audience still received the interaction positively and applauded once more.

“Well [Y/n], aren’t you a lucky girl?” She leaned a little forward in her seat. “You’re doing what a lot of other girls could literally only dream of. How does it feel to be dating Jeonghan?”

It’s everything I’ve ever wanted. It’s like a dream come true. It’s perfect, in every sense of the word. And it’s all one big lie.

“It’s…it’s really crazy to think about it, you know? Like, I’m just a normal girl, but I’m dating him?” You ended your reply by gesturing to Jeonghan, both of you smiling. More clapping came from the audience. It seemed to be going well.

“That’s totally understandable. If I were you, I would’ve lost it. You probably did lose it a little, I would imagine, right?” You nodded at her question, recalling the day he had proposed the whole idea to you. Thinking about how you managed to keep your nerves under control in that situation amazed you, followed by a surge of pride for being able to keep up your act on nonchalance so well when in Jeonghan’s presence. So in Jihyo’s words, yeah, you did lose it just a little.

“Right, right. And you, mister, how long has this been going on?” Jihyo pointed one of her neatly manicured fingers right at Jeonghan. “I remember you saying you’d never keep that special someone a secret.”

Jeonghan leaned back and rested his hands flat on the arms of his chair. “[Y/n] wasn’t ready to be in the public eye. She was just nervous, and I’d never make her do something she didn’t want to. Forgive me.” Seeing the fake pout on his lips caused one to form on Jihyo’s face as well. He was pretty good at this lying on the spot stuff. Maybe a little too good.

“You sweet thing. What a considerate boyfriend. Anyone else feeling a little bit jealous right now?” Jihyo glanced at the audience, responding as eagerly as ever. “I’m definitely feeling a little envious. Like just a pinch. No, but seriously, I wanna know everything. Oh, tell us this: who fell in love first? I’m really curious.”

You sat up in your seat a little straighter. Should you answer? Should you tell the truth? Would Jeonghan finally get the hint you just confessed right now, or would he think you’re just playing along?

“I did.” You snapped your head in Jeonghan’s direction, and you felt tingly again. It didn’t help that he winked at you either, insinuating that this was yet another lie and that you should continue to act naturally. The audience was eating this up.

Jihyo held her hands over her open mouth, looking between you and the crowd. “Wow! I…just wow! I’m so shocked! I was expecting you to be the one who…” She couldn’t even finish speaking given her exasperation, but you could read between the lines. Jihyo wasn’t the only one thrown for a loop with his answer, you genuinely had no idea he would say that. “[Y/n], sweetie, did you know he was the one who liked you first?”

“No,” you were being honest for the first time. “I’m just as shocked as you are.” You look at Jeonghan once again, your eyes immediately noticing the smug look written all over his face. You didn’t like it.

A few more questions later, Jihyo announced that there was “no more time, sorry, i know,” and started to dismiss everyone on the set. You and Jeonghan gave her one last round of polite smiling and goodbyes before you let Jeonghan escort you back to his car. The difference in your moods was stark; Jeonghan seemed to be on cloud nine while you were still hung up over what he had told Jihyo earlier.

“Um, Jeonghan, about what you said back there…”

“I know, right! Did you see the faces of the people in the audience?” He looked so happy, sounded so happy. Anyone could tell he was enjoying the attention. You weren’t. You wanted answers.

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, I saw them. They really just eat up anything you say, even if you’re lying.”

For the first time in a while, you noticed a dramatic change in Jeonghan’s expression. It was only for a second, maybe less, but it happened. Something like nervousness mixed with a dash of sadness and a pinch of guilt mixed together and slapped right onto the canvas of his face to create the masterpiece of his composure being lost. And then just as quickly as he let it fall, he slapped the mask back onto his face in the form of that carefree grin.

“I know, and I’m sorry baby. I’ll drop you off and then we’ll talk all about it.”

Jeonghan was good at keeping his promises. He kept the one you made at graduation to see you again—which was probably just dumb luck, but it counted. He kept the one he made to you after you left the gym and brought you to your favorite coffee place so you could a drink and a cake pop. He even kept the one he made to you in Junior year when you dropped Minghao’s phone in the pool (you both blamed it on Mingyu). He had not kept his promise to talk to you about what he said in the interview with Jihyo. You were too occupied with his other promise (technically, it was a deal) you’d made with him before that.

“You’re a natural on camera, baby,” He whispered into your ear, running his hands up and down your sides. Jeonghan had his hand down your underwear the whole drive back to your aunt’s house, and when he finally pulled into the driveway, you were scrambling into his lap. Seeing you so worked up made Jeonghan feel good. He leaned back the drivers seat and let you grind against his erection, flooding the inside of your mind until you could think of nothing but him. “I can tell they just loved you.”

“You really talk too much sometimes,” You mumbled. Jeonghan loved nothing more than when you talked back to him, it only made things more fun when he watched you fall apart on his cock in the moments that would follow. “You and your filthy mouth.”

“Shut me up then.”

Jeonghan licked his lips, and you watched him do so with bated breath. He was challenging you. Up until now, you had never kissed each other. You were afraid that if you did, some kind of invisible, imaginary line would be crossed and then it’d be that much harder to let him go. But what the hell, you’d already had him balls deep inside of you, what was a kiss compared to that?

His perfect, pink, lips were calling out to you like a siren does a sailor. There was no resistance when you finally kissed him, finally feeling the softness of his lips against your own. Jeonghan pulls you closer, the sudden friction between your bare core and his clothed cock making the two of you moan into the other’s mouth.

“Ride me,” He whispered with need. Need, you thought, Jeonghan needed this from you. This would’ve been the ideal time to tease him back considering his current state. But fuck, you needed him too.

Jeonghan helped you unbutton his pants and slide them down along with his boxers just enough for you to sink down onto his aching cock. It felt different, but not in a bad way. He felt so much deeper, so much better, so much closer.

He let a chuckle slip past his lips. “Your heart…it’s beating fast.” His ability to be snarky and annoying never seemed to escape him.

“Is yours not?” You asked him while you rocked your hips back and forth lazily. The last thing you wanted to do was rush this moment, this might be the last time you got to have him like this, you wanted it to last. Jeonghan wrapped his hand around one of your wrists and placed it flat against his chest.

His heart was beating just as fast as yours.

There was probably a word out there somewhere to properly convey the emotions you were feeling, not that you could think of it right now with the way Jeonghan was scrambling not only your insides—but your mind, too.

Neither of you spoke again after that. You became caught up in the moment, in the way each other felt. Jeonghan’s eyes fluttered closed when the motions of your hips became faster, the obscene sound of his moaning overpowering your own gasps and whines of pleasure. He looked a fucked out mess; swollen lips, dark eyes, messy hair, the whole nine yards. If your eyes could take pictures, you’d want a million of him in this moment.

Jeonghan couldn’t stop kissing you. He’d been waiting for you to take the initiative, to let go of your hesitation. And now he was addicted to you and the way you kissed him and slipped your tongue into his mouth like you just couldn’t get enough.

“‘M gonna fucking cum, baby,” he breathed, thrusting up into you without warning. You wrapped your arms around his neck, panting, feeling yourself get close too. He kissed you, sloppily, his dick bruising the spongy spot inside you until you were seeing white. No less than a few seconds later Jeonghan was doing the same, your sloppy cunt milking him dry. You stayed like that for a while, his forehead pressed to yours, until the speed and sound of your breathing fell into the same rhythm.

“I’ve gotta go,” is how he chose to break the silence, kissing you to silence your whine of protest. “I know, I’m sorry. But hey, my family is having a party in a few weeks. Some business shit, probably for publicity. I don’t know all the details, but they told me to bring you so they could finally meet you in person.”

You couldn’t muster any other response aside from a sigh. “I’ll be there.”

He kissed you one last time. “That’s my girl.”

One promise kept, another one broken.

“You know, that day you asked me to cover your shift, I didn’t expect it was because you were running off with your boyfriend to go on some talk show,” Yeonjun mumbled, taking the somewhat heavy box labeled “bathroom” out of your hands and walking it to that room. “It must be nice, right?” His voice echoed through the empty space of your new apartment.

“Why, you jealous?” You could hear him scoff all the way from the bathroom, making you and Chaewon laugh.

It’s been two weeks since you’ve heard from Jeonghan. His schedule has gotten increasingly busier ever since his reappearance on Jihyo’s show (which only made the news of your relationship more popular) , and you missed him for a multitude of reasons. One of them being that talk you never had about what he’d said that day. Every time you’d try to bring it up with him there was always a way he managed to weasel his way out of giving you an answer, so you’d given up trying at this point.

In better news, you’d finally managed to save up enough money to move out of your aunts house and into a decent little apartment downtown. It was kind of small, but it was just you, so you were fine with it. Today you’d finally started to move in most of your things. Joshua, Mingyu, and Soonyoung would come over tomorrow to help you set up your bed and shelves and other things that required the ability to decipher Ikea instructions. Minghao would come too, but not to help put anything together. He just wanted to scope out the place and advise you on the best way to decorate it.

So for now it was just you, your coworkers, and a couple of boxes containing the few things that you owned.

“What was it like seeing Jihyo in person?” Chaewon asked, taking a seat on the edge of the kitchen counter.

“She was nice. And pretty. She’s also more tan in person.” You replied. “I really need to go to the store, I’ve barely got any real furniture.” You stared into your box labeled “kitchen” and felt taunted by the plastic cutlery that rested inside.

There was a sudden knock at the door. You looked at Chaewon and she shrugged, just as clueless as you. You padded to the door, unlocking it and opening it just a crack. It was Jeonghan. Chaewon gasped, and you could hear her jump off of the counter and shuffle over to the doorway. He looked tired and a little annoyed standing there with his hands buried in his pockets. Today must’ve been one of his off days because he was dressed way more casually than he normally was.

“Hey baby. Hi Chaewon.” His voice sounded slightly deeper than you were used to hearing it. Chaewon waved tentatively from her position behind you. “Can I come in?” You took a step to the side, enough to let him come in, and he looked around the mostly empty space with an unreadable expression. “You never told me you moved out of your aunt’s place.”

“Right, yeah, sorry,” You shrugged. “You were just so busy, I didn’t want to bother you. It just slipped my mind.” Jeonghan just shook his head and leaned against the counter.

“It’s fine, I would’ve made time to stop by and help if I’d known. Would’ve been better than all the shit I’ve been doing.”

Chaewon stood awkwardly to the side, soon accompanied by a clueless Yeonjun who had just gotten over the initial shock of seeing Jeonghan inside your apartment. “Um…we should get going right now actually. We’ll come back another day, okay [Y/n]?” She smiled at you and waved to Jeonghan with a bit more confidence this time and yanked Yeonjun out of the apartment behind her by his wrist, shutting the door behind her with a kick of her foot.

The air suddenly felt a lot thicker.

“Do you think you could do me a favor?”

You hummed questioningly, watching Jeonghan’s head drop down and his gaze lower. You followed his eyes all the way down to the bulge in his pants. He frowned when you started laughing.

“This is funny to you?” You only laughed harder, one of your hands hovering over your mouth. “I don’t find anything funny about this.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you spoke through your laughs. “How did this even happen?”

He leans his head back and sighs. “I was thinking about you.” Your laughter immediately stops.

You’ve just come to two realizations.

1. Jeonghan admits he gets hard at the mere thought of you.

2. He came running here during one of his few days off because he wants your help dealing with it.

You felt a mix of things right now. Horny—obviously—but also proud, and kind of special. Weirdly enough, you liked the idea of Jeonghan running to you to find some sort of release. Or maybe you just really missed him in the wrong way.

“Come here.” Jeonghan beckons you closer, cupping your face in his hands and rubbing his thumb along your bottom lip. “You’re so pretty…”

“You too,” came your mumbled reply. You reached down to palm him through his sweatpants, eliciting a drawn-out groan from Jeonghan. His hips bucked into your hand, one of his hands wrapped firmly around your wrist similarly to the way he’d done in the car. You slowly sank to your knees, never once breaking eye contact with him.

The sight of you on your knees, looking up at him through your eyelashes and your bottom lip between your teeth, Jeonghan could’ve blown a fucking load right then and there.

“Did you miss me, Hannie?”

Jeonghan sucked in a sharp breath when you yanked down his pants and boxers at the same time, exposing his cock to the cool air of your apartment. “I always miss you, baby.”

You paused for a moment and wondered if he really meant that, but with his dick literally in your face you came to the conclusion that maybe it wasn’t the best time to mull things over. You peppered his tip with kisses and ran your hands up and down the base. You’d almost forgotten how much you love it when he moans for you.

“S-so good…you’re so good to me,” he rested his hands on the top of your head, breathing shakily when you finally closed your lips around him. Just when he thought he couldn’t become any more addicted to you, you went and proved him wrong.

You choked and dug your fingers into his thighs at an unexpected show of force from Jeonghan, pushing his cock deeper down your throat with a thrust of his hips. A loud gag shot out of your mouth when it hit the back of your throat, tears starting to well up inside of your eyes. He would’ve apologized if he didn’t think you didn’t like the sight of you like this. “You’re fucking perfect,” he said it without thinking, too caught up in the moment.

A single tear trailed down your cheek. You moaned around him and he copied the sound, the vibrations making him shiver with pleasure. Your jaw was starting to hurt, just a little, but Jeonghan seemed too far gone go notice anything but his own need to cum down your throat. You whined as loudly as you could, and that’s when he finally seemed to get the memo.

His grip became the slightest bit looser, letting you wrap your hands around whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth. You feel kind of gross when you notice that there’s spit dripping down your chin, but Jeonghan thought it was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen. He literally couldn’t take his eyes off of you, big brown eyes now dark with arousal.

“Will you be good and swallow for me, pretty girl?” He asked, though the question seemed entirely unnecessary given that you would’ve done so anyway. Nevertheless, you hummed in agreement, which was all he needed before the warmth of his cum spilled into your mouth. His body went limp once you tore yourself away from him and he leaned back against the countertop.

“I’ve never actually done that before, by the way,” you mentioned all too casually. Jeonghan stared at you, completely dumbfounded, like you hadn’t just sucked the soul out of him. Your face felt hot when you noticed his face. “What?”

“It’s kind of hard for me to believe that after what you just did, but okay.” He shook his head. “Oh, by the way, the party my parents are having is on a Thursday. Totally random, I know, but at lease you won’t have to call off and miss work. You can still make it, right?”

He really remembered that?

“Yeah…I can still come.” Jeonghan smiled and kissed the tip of your nose. It made you giggle. Maybe he really was rubbing off on you after all.

“Perfect.” You expected that to be it and for him to leave you, but instead he picked up one of the boxes on the floor and began unpacking the contents inside. “Do you like it here?”

“Huh?” You pushed aside the shock you felt by him still being here to give a proper answer. “Oh, yeah. It’s nice. The people upstairs are kind of loud at night, though.”

Now he was giggling. You groaned and rolled your eyes. “Not that kind of loud, Jeonghan. You’re so gross.” He was smiling at you, totally unbothered.

“You love me.”

Oh, if only he knew.

Thursday has never come so fast. Time definitely had something against you, and this was the proof.

The venue for the party—some building as fancy as it was big located in the heart of the city—was hot with dim lights and hallways that were way too long. Dozens of people were lined up around the entrance with cameras and microphones. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from them, even from the passengers seat of Jeonghan’s car, and he grumbled.

“The fucking press is still out here?”

It’s late in the evening. The sun is setting. They’ve been camping out here for days. These people are nothing if not devoted.

“You did say this was a publicity event,” you squeezed his hand. “We’ll just walk fast and smile.”

A smile broke onto his face. “I’ve only done that, like, three times.”

“I remember it being more than that, actually.”

He pouted at you, making you giggle. He was so cute it was almost unbelievable.

“Are you nervous?”

“Well, maybe just a little.” It wasn’t the party or the public that scared you, but the idea of meeting Jeonghan’s parents made your stomach churn. He eased your worries with a kiss, then another, and another.

“You’ll be fine. I promise.”

You wanted to believe him. You don’t know if you really do. There’s no fooling your brain, but your heart is much more easily swayed by his words. He holds your hand tightly as he leads you past the hundreds of cameras and people crying out your name followed by some of the strangest questions you’ve probably ever been asked—no, definitely ever been asked. You squint your eyes, allowing them to adjust to the low interior lighting, and you can see two people approaching. Jeonghan’s thumb rubs the back of your hand to soothe you.

“Ready?” He mumbles. You smile and nod.

“Not like I have a choice.”

“Jeonghan! [Y/n]! So happy you could make it.” His father greets you warmly, paired with a smile and a firm handshake. His mom is a bit less reserved with her affection, immediately pulling you into a hug.

“You look lovely, dear. Absolutely stunning.” You smile at the compliment. “It’s so good to finally meet you in person.”

“I feel the same. I’m still a little shaky.” You laughed and it seemed to ease the tension, given the way his parents laughed along with you. His father handed you a skinny glass of champagne which you eagerly accepted, sipping down the bubbly liquid. Jeonghan let go of your hand, now holding a glass of his own.

“I hope Jeonghan doesn’t give you too much trouble. We know he can be a bit of a handful at times.” The woman said, getting another laugh out of his father and you.

“Mom, please.”

“No, it’s okay. He’s really such a great guy. Our time together has been…” You sucked in a breath and glanced up at Jeonghan. He looked down at you, smirking. “…special.”

“Jeonghan? Oh, it really is him! Jeonghannie!”

You and Jeonghan both turned your heads to search for the source of the voice, both of your eyes landing on a girl with dark hair and plump lips waving at Jeonghan.

“Momo,” he smiled at her. “Good to see you. I didn’t know you’d be here.”

Momo smiled back. “We would’ve been here earlier, but Sana couldn’t decide on what to wear and Mina wasn’t being any help.” She huffed at the memory and shook her head. “But we’re here now. Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t even see you.”

You smiled tightly, trying to remain polite. “It’s fine.” It wasn’t fine. It was the exact opposite of fucking fine. Not only was this Momo girl interrupting your moment with Jeonghan and his parents, but she was also acting as if you were invisible. And worst of all, Jeonghan seemed less bored with her sudden appearance and was paying more attention to her than you.

You paused. Were you getting jealous?

“Hey, you don’t mind if Jeonghan takes some pictures with me and my friends, right?” She put a hand on your arm and squeezed lightly, snapping you out of your daze.

“No, it’s okay.” Momo smiled again, and you couldn’t help but notice just how pretty she was. With your approval, Momo linked her arm with Jeonghan’s, leading him to the opposite end of the room where two other girls stood waiting, their faces lighting up at the sight of the male model she had managed to drag along with her.

“Come on [Y/n] dear, he’ll be back. Oh, there are some people we’d like you to meet. Have you met Kang Seulgi? She’s a very talented designer.” Jeonghan’s mom rambled on, guiding you towards an expectant looking crowd of people.

Shockingly (well, it was shocking to you), your attention is the one thing that the majority of the other guests seem to be after. Many of them gather around you and Jeonghan’s parents, hanging off every word you say and looking at you like you’re one of the most precious things they’ve ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. The topic of the evening is, of course, your relationship with Jeonghan.

"It's..." You search for him in the somewhat dark expanse of space, but you couldn't find him anywhere. He probably ran off somewhere with Joshua, no doubt.

Jeonghan had fucked you over. He’d brought you here just to abandon you. He made you feel special just so you’d make him look good in front of his parents. You felt like some kind of broken toy, so easily thrown to the side once he no longer wanted to play with you.

"I don't know. It's a lot of things. I'm happy though, you know? He's good to me." You smiled, the lie stinging your throat and burning your tongue. There was only so much more of all this attention you could take.

“You’re so lovely, [Y/n].”

“Isn’t she just a dear?”

“She’s the sweetest! Don’t you just love her?”

And there it was; your breaking point. One of your hands flew over your mouth, keeping the pathetic sob from escaping. Concern flashed across the faces of the guests, and you apologized as best as you could as you pushed your way through the mass of bodies and out to the hallway. None of them followed you, probably still confused as to why you had even run away in the first place, but it didn’t matter. None of this mattered.

Jeonghan’s friends loved you. The media loved you. His parents loved you. All these guests whose names you didn’t even know loved you. Everyone loved you but Jeonghan, so in the end none of it even mattered. He had no problem discarding you when you were no longer of use to him, like you were nothing, because he didn’t love you.

You finally cried. The regret, the guilt, it consumed you. You slid down to the floor, your face covered by your hands, crying on the floor like a child.

“[Y/n]?”

You could recognize Jeonghan’s voice in a heartbeat. He stared down at you, worry written all over his pretty face, but you gave him no response.

“Why are you crying?”

He knelt down beside you, trying to get you to at least look at him. You wiped away the last of your tears and sighed.

“I think we need to end this, Jeonghan.”

“What?” He seemed genuinely shocked that you said that. “[Y/n], we’re more popular than ever. That wasn’t the deal.”

You picked yourself up off of the floor, suddenly overcome with anger. "Is that seriously all you care about? How popular you are? What about me?”

His silence was painful.

“God, of course. I don’t even know why I bothered asking. You only care about yourself.”

“That’s not true. I care about you, [Y/n]. You know that.” Jeonghan frowned.

Under different circumstances you might’ve believed him, let him sway you with his sweet words and sad little expression.

“Do you? It feels like you only care about me when you want your dick sucked or when you want someone to clap for you.”

The look on his face changed in an instant. Jeonghan’s patience was wearing thin, you could tell, but there was a part of him that was holding back.

“If that’s how you really feel, why didn’t you say anything? Why even agree to do this in the first place?”

The words came flying out before you could stop them. “Because I love you, Jeonghan! I’ve always loved you!”

A heavy silence enveloped the hallway. It was tense—suffocatingly so. You could hardly make out how his face changed once more in the low lighting that enveloped you.

“[Y/n]—”

“I’m not done!” You’re not sure when you started crying again, but you arely registered the wet droplets streaming down your cheeks. “I don’t even know why I’ve tried so hard to get you to notice the fact that I love you when it’s obvious the only person you love is yourself. You’re nothing but a selfish asshole. I hate you.”

Your vision was blurred with your tears, but you could just barely make out the dejection painted on his face. It didn’t suit him. You hoped that he would say something, anything, but Jeonghan did nothing but stand there. You couldn’t do anything but laugh pitifully.

“I’m going home. Have fun at your party.”

“Wait, [Y/n], please don’t go. Let’s talk about this.” He held onto your hand when you tried to walk away. You tried to get him to let go, but he wasn’t ready to let go.

“What else is there to say, Jeonghan? We’re over, now leave me alone. Why don’t you go ask Momo to be your fake girlfriend, I’m sure she’d be more than happy to.”

You snatched your hand out of his grasp, fooling yourself with the last bit of hope you had that maybe he would chase after you. He made you a promise, after all.

It’s a shame he couldn’t keep it.

You didn’t go into work on Friday. Or Saturday. Or Sunday. After you got home last night, you buried yourself beneath the covers of your bed, too exhausted to do anything other than lie there in the darkness until you fell asleep. When morning came, you couldn’t even muster up the strength to move, so you called Sakura and said that you were sick and wouldn’t be able to come in for the next few days.

Jeonghan had left you an unbelievable amount of texts and calls, none of which you bothered to respond to. Chaewon and Joshua also texted you to ask about the party and if you’d heard anything from Jeonghan; apparently no one had heard from him since the party. As if you’d know.

On Sunday, you’d managed to tear yourself away from your bed—for longer than a trip to the kitchen or the bathroom—and out onto the couch. A rerun episode of Jihyo’s talk show was playing on the TV, the one that featured you and Jeonghan. You watched with a heavy heart as the two of you walked hand in hand, smiling, waving to the studio audience.

How could you ever fall in love with him? He was just another self serving rich boy who used you for his own personal gain. It didn’t matter that he was charming or funny or cute or—

Fuck, even when you were mad at him you found it impossible to ignore the beating of your own heart when you remembered just how nice it felt to be with him, even if it was all just for show.

Someone was knocking. You sighed, not wanting to get up, but the knocking only grew louder and more urgent.

“Okay, I’m coming! Damn…” You shouted, lifting yourself from the couch and over to the door, frowning at the person standing on the other side.

Jeonghan’s state of being didn’t seem to be any better than yours. His eyes had bags under them, his hair was in desperate need of a brush, and he was still in his pajamas. Even so, he smiled weakly at the sight of you. “I was worried you wouldn’t answer. I’m happy to see you’re doing okay.”

You scoffed. “I’m not.” You missed the way his smile dropped at that. “What do you want?”

“I want to apologize to you.”

Shaking your head, you started to shut the door, almost closing it on Jeonghan’s arm in the process.

“Wait, please! I really mean it, just give me a few minutes and then I’ll be gone, I swear.”

There was no way you were in your right mind, because you actually let him in. He smiled and followed you to the couch, sitting at a distance to keep you from getting uncomfortable.

“I thought about what you said at the party. The stuff you said about me wasn’t wrong. I was being selfish. I did only care about my image. You had every right to be upset with me.”

“I’m still upset with you.”

“And that’s perfectly fine, but just hear me out,” His voice was frantic. “Those two weeks I didn’t talk to you were the worst two weeks of my life. I wasn’t lying when I said I missed you. I really missed you, [Y/n]. And the more I thought about you, the more I realized that I was falling in love. I’m so in love with you, [Y/n].”

You weren’t buying it. “You could’ve texted me. Or called. Or something.”

Jeonghan turned to face you, eyes flickering over your face. “I wanted to, and I should’ve, but…”

“…But what?”

His cheeks were growing pinker by the second.

“But what, Jeonghan?”

“But I didn’t want you to leave me. I didn’t tell you how I felt because I thought it would overwhelm you. If you start to feel real feelings in a fake relationship, what are you supposed to do?” He sounded so…sad.

When the reality of his words finally sunk in, clarity followed. Jeonghan was in love with you. Jeonghan was scared that you would want things to be over. Jeonghan was worried about how you would react to him.

You breathed out a laugh.

“You’re such a dummy, Jeonghan. Why would I ever leave you?”

His sadness evaporated, now replaced with relief and joy and love. He pulled you into a hug and sighed happily when you returned it.

“I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. My heart literally fucking broke when you cried because of me and my shitty attitude.”

“Oh, but I love your shitty attitude. Just not when it’s making me cry.”

“Good. Pretty girls shouldn’t cry.” He whispered against your lips before kissing you. You felt giddy at the way his lips moved against yours, smiling into the kiss. He gently pushed you so you were lying on your back, breaking away to look down at you.

“My pretty girl…” He said again, voice sweeter than sugar, fingers trailing up your legs. They felt cold against your burning hot skin, and it made you shiver. “Gonna let me make you feel good like you deserve?”

“Yes, Hannie, please.”

Jeonghan groaned, pausing the movement of his fingers to bask in the sound of you begging for him. You had no idea what you did to him and it made his dick that much harder. “Good girl. I’ll take care of you.”

“Hurry up, your hands are cold,” You whined. His eyes flashed with mischief, pressing his fingers down into the flesh of your inner thigh, watching you shiver and moan.

“I don’t know, I think that you like it, am I right?”

“If you don’t hurry up and touch me, I’ll do it myself.” To prove your point, you slipped your shorts off and tossed them somewhere onto the floor. Jeonghan touched you before you could even think about sliding off your underwear, cupping your leaking cunt with his hand.

“The only one who gets to play with this pretty pussy is me, baby. Don’t ever forget it.” You moaned at how fast his demeanor seemed to change, nodding furiously as you tried to grind into his hand to relieve the ache he was making you feel.

Pouting and panting, you looked up at him. “Hannie, don’t be mean…”

He found it insane how he didn’t realize how whipped he was for you earlier. Like really, he was totally wrapped around your finger. This must’ve been how you felt for all those years.

“Whatever you want, baby,” He lifted your legs a little higher, situating himself so he was lying flat on his stomach, face only a few inches away from your cunt. He pushed your underwear to the side, gasping at the sight of how wet you were. “Shit, baby, you’re fucking dripping.”

“Just for you.”

He seemed pleased with that. “Better be.”

Jeonghan buried his face in between your legs, groaning when the taste of you hits his mouth. He’s making an even bigger mess of you, licking at you greedily and sloppily, drowning himself in the wetness between your thighs.

You’re moaning louder than you think you ever have in your life. Shaky fingers slide into his soft dark hair, gripping tightly. He doesn’t seem to mind though, already too caught up in you to register the little bit of pain. You grind into his face, staining the lower half of his face with your arousal.

“Hannie, fuck,” You manage to say despite your fucked out state. Jeonghan hums, and the sensation makes your thighs close around his head. If you could speak, you would apologize, but Jeonghan seems to grow impossibly more aroused by the act.

He slips two of his fingers inside of you, it’s easy given how wet you are and keep getting, while he occupies his tongue on your clit. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, any and all coherent thoughts having escaped you in that moment. The only thing you could focus on was Jeonghan, his lips, and his fingers.

You could feel yourself getting close, a familiar feeling blooming in your stomach. Jeonghan could feel it too with the way you were tightening around his fingers and arching your back to stay as close to him as you can. He circles your clit with his tongue before starting to suck on it, your legs shaking with the force of your orgasm.

“You taste so good,” Jeonghan says, licking his lips clean of every last drop of you. He presses one last long, lingering kiss to your pussy before gathering the strength to pull away and wipe his mouth clean.

“We could’ve kept going.” The look you gave him was so innocent and sweet, a contrast to the way your legs were still spread open with your juices staining your inner thighs. You almost convinced him. Almost.

“Don’t look at me like that,” He spoke slowly and softly, as if he was in no rush to give you more despite the painfully obvious tent in his pants.

“Well then hurry up and fuck me already.”

Jeonghan doesn’t want to keep you waiting, but he can’t help but tease you just a little bit more. He sheds his clothes with little urgency, and he smirks like the little cocky shit he is when he sees the way you’re looking at him, like you could just devour him here and now. It’s like you were seeing him naked for the first time all over again, astonished by the sight of him. He was just so pretty all over.

He slides the tip of his cock up and down your slit, teasing your entrance until you were squirming. “Hannie, please,” you whined, steadying your hands on his shoulders. Clearly he was just as desperate as you were, because he pushed into with a groan no more than a moment later.

“So tight, baby, shit. Are you trying to make me cum already?”

His strokes are slow and deep, and you can feel every single inch of him inside of you as he drags himself all the way out before slamming back inside. Whenever you clench around him, he falters and lets himself moan something unintelligible about how good you feel or how pretty you are.

“F-Faster, Hannie, I want—” Jeonghan cut you off with a sloppy kiss, swallowing each and every one of your noises.

He cooed at you and shook his head with fake disapproval. “When did you get so demanding?” Your words turned into whimpers when he increased both the pace and the force of his thrusts, rendering your ability to speak useless. “You know I’ve got you baby, I know what you need.”

“Stop talking like that.” Your nails dragged down his back, streaking his unblemished skin with thin red lines.

“What are you gonna do if I don’t? You gonna cum and make a mess of yourself all over my cock, huh baby?”

You whimpered again, leaving Jeonghan to assume that he was correct and giving him yet another ego boost. With one hand, he pushed your shirt up to reveal your braless chest, kissing and sucking at the supple skin of your tits.

There was no way you weren’t going to be getting a noise complaint. The sounds coming from Jeonghan’s hips snapping against yours paired with the steady stream of sounds coming from both you and Jeonghan were sure to have them making a fuss. Not that any of that mattered at the moment, well, not to either of you.

His hand snakes between your bodies, rubbing feverishly at your abused bundle of nerves, whispering so sweetly into your ear the words “cum for me” which is all you needed before doing just that. Jeonghan watches your face as you cum, and he thinks that you’ve never looked more beautiful than you do now, letting yourself fall apart underneath him like this.

“I love you so much,” He says in between his strained grunts of pleasure. “So fucking much, baby.” Even after you had already cum, Jeonghan’s hips never once stopped moving against yours.

“I love you too, Hannie, fuck.” The overstimulation was starting to hit you, and you whimpered because of it.

“I know, baby. I’m almost there.”

His tip is bruising your sweet spot with each of his thrusts, making you squeeze around him impossibly tighter, and the feeling makes him so dizzy, reminding him of the fact that he is truly and utterly yours. “Want me to cum inside you, pretty girl? Use your words and tell me.”

“Yes, yes, please, Hannie! Need your cum inside of me!” Your mouth and body are reacting on their own, saying and doing what they want as you feel yourself cum a second time. He doesn’t hold back anymore, the warm sensation of his cum being fucked deeper and deeper into you overtaking all of your senses, leaving you feeling fuzzy and lightheaded.

Jeonghan’s head rests on your chest, breathing in your scent and listening to the sound of your heart. He’s too lazy and too tired to pull out, but you don’t mind. “Can you be my girlfriend for real now?” Even as you work to catch your breath, he still manages to make you laugh.

“Hm, I don’t know, nobody was around to hear you say that, should we go find you an audience?” You tease, and Jeonghan whines loudly and shakes his head.

“In that case, yes. I’d love to be your girlfriend.”

#yoon jeonghan #jeonghan #yoon jeonghan smut #jeonghan smut #seventeen jeonghan #seventeen smut #svt smut #jeonghan x reader #svt jeonghan #seventeen x reader #svt x reader

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tteokdoroki · 1 year

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✩ — ANGELS SHOULD NEVER FALL THIS FAR FROM HEAVEN ⁀➷ everyone believes satoru gojo to be an angel. your mother considers her new son to be a blessing, even if he’s bratty and spoiled. but never once did think teasing him would make your step-brother to act on such ungodly desires. (3.2K)

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, smut, pwp, college!au, religious imagery, step-cest, groping, fingering, ‘just the tip’, exhibitionism, clothed sex, male masturbation, slight degradation, bratty behaviour, use of oneesan, unprotected sex, ruined orgasms, cumplay, fem!reader, step-bro!gojo.

things to note. lol sorry it’s been a while !! trying a new layout also posting this into the void while i work on kinktober eee !! idk i’ve had a rough time trying to write a one shot so im glad i could make this !! special thanks to @kishibye for beta reading. i hope you enjoy this bestie boos ily <3

“what are you doing?” there’s a sharp edge to the tone of satoru’s voice, splayed across his tongue that holds back a stream of curses. his eyes speak fury in their piping hot flames of wild cerulean as he watches you enter the kitchen and shoot straight for the snack cupboard.

you can feel the weight of his gaze as it crosses the slopes of your body, from the back of your head, twirling around your curves before ultimately falling to your behind.

playing innocent, you stand on your tip toes and grasp at the bag of chips you’re after. the ones on the top shelf. “whaddya mean ‘what am i doing’?”

“what do you mean what do i mean?” your step brother retorts childishly, as if you’re two kids fighting on a playground at recess.

you click your tongue and pay him no mind. “don’t be such a baby, satoru,” you wave a hand in his face in a haughty manner. “use your big boy words.”

gojo suppresses a whine when your shirt rides up and reveals your skin to gorgeous eyes. he lets it gargle around in his throat like the sting of cool mouthwash, before striding over to you — grabbing the chips and slamming the cupboard shut so hard it makes you jump.

“you can’t just walk around dressed like that.”

he gestures to your get up — the clothes you wear when nobody’s home. your sapphire silly and scallop-edged panties, your old and ratty band t-shirt haphazardly thrown on.

“why?” you turn around to come face to face with your younger (step)brother, noting the way his stare hones in on the plush meat of your thighs as you squish them together — leaning back against the kitchen counter.

“my friends are coming over.”

“so, what’s the big deal?” there’s something about pissing gojo off that entertains you. he’s a brat by all means, raised with a silver spoon in his mouth and daddy’s dollars tucked into his pockets. whenever there’s a problem, all it takes is a classic ‘toru temper tantrum and your parents are on the scene to fix things for him. he’ll never know the hardships of being raised by a single mother, always having a little less than most. he walks around in his own little bubble of riches - and you can’t help but want to pop it. “shoko thinks i’m cool and geto will probably jack off to me later. it’s whatever.”

“but it’s not whatever,” you can practically see satoru fight the urge to stomp his foot like a petulant child — even going as far to have the audacity to pout down at you. “you’ll just embarrass me. so do us both a favour and put some clothes on, nobody wants to see all that ‘round the house.”

“do you own this house?”

“no but i-“

“but your daddy does. and daddy isn’t here! so shut up, satoru!” jabbing a finger into his chest, you smile up at your not-so-little little step-brother, evilly. “i make the rules.”

“oh fuck you. all you do is mooch off of my dad, princess. you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for your mom whoring it out for him.” he sneers in response, upper lip curling into a distasteful snarl like a dog with a stranger on its territory. his words, though cruel and foul, are far from the truth and you know that he doesn’t mean it. satoru is a brat that throws acid laced words at anyone who gets in his way — yourself included.

even though you agree that your parents tied the knot all too fast — barely giving the two of you a chance to get to know each other as siblings. they were in love and far too happy for the rivalry between their children to get in the way. you know that the fact pissed gojo off to no end, he hated how your mother doted on him and how he’d always needed to fight for his father’s attention. now it certainly wasn’t ever going to be on him. but the two women in his house instead.

your poor, spoiled, baby brother.

however, you won’t let his words and how he projects onto you, hurt you. “whoops! looks like i dropped my will to give a fuck!” whilst pretending to drop your snack, you bend over in front of him to reveal inches of beauty marked and blemished flesh, drawing hungry seafoam eyes to the bounce of showing your ass — testing your little step brother. “i don’t care satoru, i’m older.”

satoru’s mouth snaps shut after moments of wordlessly opening and closing. he stands frozen on the spot, as if he can’t seem to process the very idea that his older step-sister had just flashed him to prove a point.

but just when you think you’ve won, the silver-haired brat is pressed right up behind you, forcing your body to bend over the cold marble counter that instantly has your nipples hardening against the icy surface. heat rushes to your face, blossoming just under the barrier of your skin as his hard on nestles it’s way between your ass cheeks — a symphony of your surprised squeaks echoing through the modern kitchen.

“hey! what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

instead of responding, he pushes your head down against the counter — circling his increasingly wet erection against your behind, manhandling the globes of flesh back onto his dick. “not so fun, is it.” he coos down at you, voice chilly and full of condescending highs and lows. “yanno…you’re awfully mean to me.”

saliva pools on your tongue, weighing it down in your mouth like a paperweight as satoru’s girth slips downwards, seedy tip brushing over panty clad and your swollen clit. “aren’t oneesan’s s’pposed to take care of their baby brothers?” his breath is hot and ragged against your ear as gojo haunches over you, caging you in like a wild animal as you thrash and writhe under his touch.

you can’t even bring yourself to feel an ounce of shame when gojo’s left hand dances between your tangled limbs and slips past the frilly band of your underwear — ghosting over the throbbing pearl laying between your sticky pussy lips. “step…step brother!” you whinge at the tingle of pleasure that blooms in your lower tummy and spreads like angel wings throughout the rest of your body.

satoru takes turns playing with you, alternating between his nimble, skilled fingers and his seedy girth that smears precum all over your inner thighs and panties. “like that even fuckin’ matters.” he laughs, twisted and proud. “could you get off like this? yeah i think you could…. you’re already so wet. just from grinding on your little brother’s cock.”

your legs grow shaky at his ministrations, beads of your juices oozing from your empty entrance to stain the man’s sweats, slicking him up as if it’s a signature of your claim. “‘toru!” you gasp, eyes rolling back into the depth of your skull. “m-more.”

“look at how fast you fold for me…” he pushes up your shirt so that the fabric pools around your waist — pawing at the fat there, massaging your hips softly as if he isn’t violently, cruelly rubbing one out on your achey pussy. “i don’t think you’re in a position to ask me for more, big sis.” satoru taunts, a heavy hand coming down on the bare skin of your ass, leaving a raw handprint in its place. “such a nasty slut, i bet you’d let me fuck you like this too. out in the open, where anyone could catch us.”

you yelp in surprise at the feeling of gojo’s messy, cream coated cockhead nudge at your entrance from over your panties — a slender finger pulling the soaked material to the side so he can fuck you with his tip. “oh, i bet you’d like that, huh baby?” he continues to purr, jutting his hips forward ever so slightly — feeding your greedy cunt a few more inches of him. satoru’s barely sheathed inside of you, but you’re already stretching deliciously around what he’s given you. he’s fat, girthy just as he is long and his mushroom tip drags along sensitive spots in your walls you didn’t even know you had.

he hasn’t even fucked you properly yet.

you sob, wail and writhe on your little step brother’s cock, nails clawing at the marble counter while your breath escapes you. “satoru, please fuck me. ‘m sorry… sorry—!”

“shh big sis, you’re being too loud,” he cups a hand over your mouth. gojo eases two digits past your plump lips to pacify your cries as he shallowly pumps his wet cock into the heat of your sex — gritting his teeth to hide his own moans. “we…fuck, you’re tight as shit… we wouldn’t want my friends to know that you dress like a slut for my cock, would we?”

you shake your head with a muffled moan, suckling the taste of yourself from gojo’s fingers and breathing heavily through your nose. “no, we wouldn’t. that’s right. good girl, oh shit.”

satoru laughs, a little cocky and a little drawn out in a long, whiny whimper over the wet slap of the backs of your thighs in the front of his own. but he trembles from behind you, like his legs are about to give out every time your creamy cunt sucks a little more of him in. it’s a miracle he’s managed to hold you both up.

guilt wracks your body intertwining with the red blood cells coursing through your veins and carrying limited oxygen to your brain — your head practically empty at how your little brother ruins you on half of his fat cock. this isn’t right, this is completely wrong and yet you feel yourself coming undone — weak in the knees and shaky in your lips, the dam in your lower tummy threatening to burst at any second and flood the room in an erotic river of your arousal.

pushing your head off of the counter, you lean into satoru, throwing your ass back onto him in rhythm with the harshness of his thrusts. everything is hotter, heavier and you can’t even think about how much of a bad step-sister you are when he’s dominating your body like this. the silky locks of satoru’s silvering hair press against your shoulder and he wraps a fist in the fabric of your shirt to pull you further back onto his cock.

“‘m gonna c-cum, oh god!” you squeal, flinching as your juices crudely slap against the kitchen floor. “i’m so close!”

he pants into your ear like a desperate dog, fully wrapping himself around you and trapping you against the counter so that you have nowhere to go except towards your high. “yeah?” gojo breathes heatedly, temperate breath cascading over the back of your neck and only adding fuel to your fire of desire. “i can tell, you get like this. all needy ‘n cute when you’re about to cum.”

his words have you clenching around his bulbous tip every time it pushes up against the pleasure spots you didn’t even know you had — your arousal catching in the pretty blue veins that spiral around the length of gojo’s shaft. “you don’t think i can’t hear you, big sis? late at night when you think everyone’s sleepin’….” his whistle tone moans are quickly replaced by deep growls and grunts that only just manage to escape from between the gritted rows of your step brother’s pearly whites. “when you stuff those tiny fingers into that tight little hole and—“

he reaches down between your mess of slick soaked limbs to land a harsh smack against your quivering pussy, sending the foamy ring of white where your bodies join flying about the place. “—and make yourself cum to the thought of me?” he continues, breathing ragged and laughing at you again when you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure.

“s-satoru!”

he soothes you with quick circles over your swollen clit and kisses to your shoulder — being careful not to leave marks. “oh did that hurt, baby? am i the mean one now?” licking a stripe up the side of your face and tasting the sweat on your glistening skin, satoru rambles on — filling you up with praises and copious amounts of precum. “you know i—fuck— you know i love you. my precious big sister, so fucking good to me. let’s make you cum, yeah?”

you’re allowed to rut back on him for a little longer, since he loves the sound of his name whirling around messily on your tongue, all high-pitched and sugar coated for him. if only you knew how badly he’d wanted you, how pissed he was when his father went on to marry your mother. gojo has wanted you since the very first night you met — his every waking thought has been carefully carved to lust after you, think of your eyes, your smile, your lips. fuck, everything about you has satoru under some kind of spell.

“r-right there. right there, t-there!” you chant the words like they’re the a prayer, as if they’re the only ones you know, allowing satoru to throw you through the loop of pleasure until you’re too far gone to stay on the ride.

angling his slender hips upwards, his cockhead bares down on the gummy centre of your g-spot just has he buries himself inside of you — right up to the hilt. “h-here? this where you want me, big sis?” gojo’s amused gasp turns into a coo when you let out a meek hum of agreement, babling wild nonsense and drooling into the counter you’re pressed against. “mmhm, got you creamin’ around me already. so cute, so good when you listen. when you’re a good t’me, oneesan.”

the honorific alone has your mouth running dry as if it’s been stuffed with cotton. though the syrupy pap, pap, pap of your sex says otherwise. it tells the truth of your sin.

and the thing that you don’t know about satoru is that he loves to give, feeding pieces of himself to you as he fucks you wild in the middle of your family kitchen. he wants you to have all of him, every corner and inch of his body just like he dreamed about. he knows it’s forbidden and that it’s wrong, but he can’t help but relish in the feeling of your pretty pussy sucking him in so selfishly, greedily clamping down on his thick base.

he would give you anything. anything you wanted and asked for if you’d let him. his hands slip from your waist to intertwine with yours splayed out on the cool marble surface, using his last spurts of energy to drag you towards your orgasm and the deep depths of sinner’s paradise.

“fuck me, fuck me, baby.” he growls possessively against the shell of your ear. “let go for me. lemme see how much you love your little brother—“

the crescendo of your pleasure is at an all time high, about to come crashing down on you like a tonne of heavy bricks.

that is until the door bell rings, accompanied by the sound of geto’s voice from the outside of the house. “yoo, satoru! open up!”

you’d think that you’d have been good enough for your little step-brother to keep going — to push onwards and let you cream all over him before he went to attend to his silly little friends. but he flips the script, pulling out of you just as you teeter over the edge to ruin your orgasm.

“no, no, please!” you sniffle, teary eyed with dissatisfaction sitting in your lower belly — the need to cum still there but the feeling of emptiness within your dripping walls taking over. “satoru…” you whine.

when you look behind you, he’s too busy finishing himself off — his black shirt between his teeth, sweats hanging low on his waist while gojo palms his hard and heavy cock as he pleases.

it’s coated in your arousal, shining under the artificial lighting in the kitchen and you watch with a pout as gojo jacks himself off to the view of your ruined cunt. he thumbs the seedy slit at the centre of his bright red tip, hissing through the sensitivity. he’s a picture perfect vision, appearing as an angel before your very eyes. a mop of halo white hair flop backwards with satoru’s head, rich sapphire eyes locked behind fluttering lashes that glisten with pearls of pleasure filled tears.

you know not to be mistaken, you know that satoru is more like an incubus than the heavenly being he presents as. the parts of your brain with better judgement see him as the sinner who made you fall from grace, committing such a heinous act. the desperate side of you with a brain full of lust and smoke screens sees your step-brother as a god who controls all of your desires.

you think you prefer that side of you more.

meanwhile, a drop of sweat runs a track down the length of satoru’s neck, catching on the curve of his Adam’s apple as he swallows down his euphoric laments. you find yourself jealous that his own fingers are wrapped around his sloppy dick instead of drawing shapes against your aching clit. you envy how good it must feel for satoru when he finally cums. ropes of thick white sling around his knuckles, much paler in contrast to his pearlescent skin tone.

a deep, gravelly moan erupts from his hot mouth like lava, accompanied by curses and the stuttered syllables you recognise to be your name while he finishes himself off. gojo jerks his sensitive cock over your ass to paint you with the last spurts of his release. it’s a claim on you as your step-brother, a way in which he can show you that he always gets his way no matter what.

whilst still recovering, your step-brother drags a slender finger through the puddle of cum he’s left on you, and drags it down to your stretched little hole before pushing it against your overstimulated clit. “hmm, so pretty.” gojo grins, slow and sly, when you twitch and attempt to jolt away from him. then unexpectedly, he lands a hard smack against your bum — revelling in your sweet cry of pleasure, impatience and pain. “go put somethin’ on, will ya, sis? my friends are still waiting outside.”

“i…i hate you.” you whimper shakily, brain frazzled from the situation.

satoru might be a spoiled brat, but he’s not mean enough to leave you here a shaky, dripping mess so he helps you to your feet — tenderly fixing the hem of your shirt and panties back into place (failing to wipe his cum off of you beforehand). you’re still pouting from your ruined orgasm once he’s done, and he nudges the underside of your chin with a singular knuckle.

“don’t worry big sis, i’ll come take care of you later. maybe i’ll even let geto watch since you love prancing around half naked for him too.” he teases, squishing your cheeks as you try to swat at him. “and you don’t hate me, you love me and this cock. clearly.” gojo sings and sends a cheeky wink in your before prancing away to open the door for his friends.

he pulls his pants up as he goes, not minding the wet patch you’ve left on him.

whereas, you scurry up to your room before they can greet you and gojo tells them that you’re feeling unwell.

that day, you learn two valuable lessons:

one — never mess with a spoiled brat, it’ll never end well for you and gojo will always get what he wants no matter who pays the bills.

two — geto really does like to jerk off to you, even more so when he watches his best friend punishes his older step-sister with enough orgasms to make her forget why she was in trouble with satoru in the first place.

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afro-hispwriter · 4 months

Text

Hearts on Fire

Tom Glynn- Carney x reader, Ewan Mitchell x reader, Glytchell x reader(eventually... maybe)

Summary- falling for either of your co-stars was NOT on your bucket list

Warnings- single mom!reader, both boys are single, mentions of past pregnancy

wc-1.1k

A/n- I don't know exactly how sets work but I'm pretty sure actors all meet each other way before the first day, so everyone knows the baby already

It was like yesterday that you were still auditioning for the role at 9 months pregnant. Now it was the first day on set and you had nobody to take care of your six-month-old son. Your cousin could only stay with you for so long and you were no way in hell leaving your baby with a stranger.

There was a bus that would pick up cast members but you weren't sure how they would feel about you bringing your baby on the bus and then to set.

But a call wouldn't hurt. And it didn't. Your assistant made sure something would be there. The set managers were more than happy to accommodate you as long as you brought everything needed.

You got a text from Olivia that they were close by you instantly gathered up your things and put the playpen outside, along with the baby bag.

"Okay Miles, you're coming with mommy to work today." You picked up the chubby baby put him in the travel car seat and walked outside just as the bus pulled up. You waved and shut your door and locked it. You bent down grabbed the playpen strap and swung it over your shoulder, it clashed against your backpack making you stumble. You grabbed the bag strap and started hauling it all towards the bus.

The bus doors slid open and your co-star Ewan Mitchell came running out.

"Let me help you out there."

"No Ewan I got it." You smiled at him but he shook his head. He grabbed the playpen and baby bag from your arms and gestured for you to go first.

"Thank you." You sighed and walked up the steps of the bus. Everyone greeted you and moved their stuff so you could set Miles down. Ewan came in behind you and handed you the baby bag.

"I'm going to take this to the back." He says and takes the playpen.

"Thank you again." You say.

"Don't mention it," Ewan says and walks to the back then back up to the front to sit directly behind you. Miles' car seat was secure and you took your seat right next to him.

The next stop was Tom. He stepped on the bus and his eyes instantly matched with you.

"Hey, Y/n." He sat down next to you in the other set of chairs. His eyes dashed over to the little have stretching. "You brought your baby!?" Tom instantly cooed and tried to get a look. And just at the same time, Miles started getting fussy. The kind that he wanted to be held.

"Okay okay." You cooed and started unbuckling him. You pocked him down and tried to sit him down on your lap but he planted his tiny feet on your thigh to stay up. "Oh, we want to stand today." He looked around the bus as it was completely new to him.

"Hi there." Tom waved at the baby with a big smile on his face. "I don't think you remember me but I do remember you." Miles giggled as if he understood. "You were so much tinier."

"Now he's a big boy." You say and tickle his sides making the baby squirm and giggle. Then he stopped as his little eyes caught onto Olivia. His tiny mouth was open in awe.

"Uh oh, I think someone's got his first crush," Tom says and you look at Miles who was staring intently at Olivia.

"You think she's pretty huh, I know she is." You say in a tiny baby voice.

"Oh, that is adorable," Olivia says with a smile which triggers Miles to smile as well. He sat down abruptly, digging his knees into your stomach making you huff then stood up with force to look at Olivia again. As if he was playing peek-a-boo.

The whole ride Miles had everyone smiling and laughing. You were only 15 minutes away when Miles suddenly leaned over to reach for Tom. It was like something clicked to Tom and he instantly reached out but then hesitated and looked up at you for reassurance.

You were going to be working with these people for who knows how long. You had to trust them.

You nodded and passed over Miles to Tom. He gladly accepted it with no issue. He sat in the man's lap contently while Tom kept a secure hold on him.

Once you deemed he was okay you let yourself relax as much as you could.

Ewan tapped your shoulder and you turned around.

“How old is he now?” He asks looking at Miles.

“6 months.” He nodded then looked at you.

“You look absolutely amazing by the way.” He says. “I wouldn’t have guessed you had a baby 6 months ago.”

Your face heated up and you broke out in a big smile.

“That is very kind of you Ewan, I appreciate it.” He gave a satisfied smile and grabbed his phone.

“Can I get your number? I have pretty much everyone but yours.”

“Yeah!” You grabbed his phone and typed in the number and handed it back to him. The bus pulled into the lot and parked. Everyone stood up grabbed their stuff and got off the bus just leaving you with Ewan, Tom, and Miles.

“I can take it from you, thank you.” You tell them but they don’t budge.

“We’ve got you, don’t worry. I can carry Miles.”

Tom says and stands up, bouncing Miles slightly.

“I can carry the other stuff. You worry about yourself for a bit.” Ewan says and grabs the baby bag and walks to the back to grab the playpen.

“Guys I’ve been doing this for months, please let me carry my stuff.” You pleaded but they didn’t budge. Tom waited for you to start walking and Ewan waited in the middle of the aisle.

“We know you’re doing this, but you’re basically by yourself Y/n, let us help. We’re going to be around each other for a long time. I'm sure everyone in there is going to want to help you as well.”

You didn’t know what to feel. Your chest tightened but your belly fluttered at his words. Your breath hitched and you bit your lip. The boys worried you were about to cry but you just nodded.

“Okay.”

A/n- this was more of an intro but, more to come!

@callsignwidow

#ewan mitchell #tom glynn carney #ewan mitchell x reader #tom glynn carney x reader #glytchell

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sozettagay · 2 years

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It's Boo's favorite time of the year

#he loves Christmas trees #just staring at them and laying under them #my baby boy boo

0 notes

beensbaee · 3 months

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𝒏𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒚𝒂𝒎 𝒔𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆 ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

summary; neteyam didn’t know how head over heels he truly was for you - until he saw Ao’nung and his friends bullying you.

word count; 3.2k (really proud of this one! let me know what you think 🥹🩵💙)

THE BOND.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Neteyam knew he was going to have a difficult time adjusting to The Way Of Water. From the moment he landed his Ikran, the defensive stares he'd received from the clan had him bowing his head in shame.

He knew how bad his family looked - running away from a war and seeking uturu in a place with peace that wished to stay undisturbed.

He never talked badly about the treatment he and his family received, because he knew how big of a sacrifice they were making by letting them stay. And he was thankful.

But there was a certain part of him - a secretive, tucked away piece that desperately wished he could be treated the way he always wanted to be. Equally.

Not questioned in any way - or seen as something to avoid. That was how he wanted the clan to react. Not be put on a pedestal - like back at home, where the pressure to be perfect was crushing. And not stomped on - like some sort of a threat, something to be questioned and investigated when he had first arrived. A burden.

Oh how he hated the treatment. The glares he'd first received. The backhanded compliments from Ao'nung and his friends - boy's his own age. Even the Tsahik's comments had him up at night - tossing and turning as he wished - dreamt for things to go back the way they were. When it was just him and his family - peaceful and alone in their home.

He was walking on the sand when he first saw you. On a stroll during the night whilst his family slept - trying to clear his mind. A small movement in the water had caught his eye - and it was only natural for him to go and see what it was. He approached the water with careful steps, the bioluminescence of the underwater plants shining through as he peered down - looking for what had made movement underwater with furrowed brows. His eyes searched the water carefully - but he saw nothing.

Unbeknownst to him however, you had seen someone approach the water and swam behind one of the reefs easily. You gently lifted your head above the water, watching the boy search the sea with a curiosity you simply found adorable.

The way his brows were knitted together with confusion had you smiling - how his tail wagged expectedly behind him as your mind came up with the clever idea to play a harmless trick on your clan's guest.

Of course you had seen him around - but you had been watching from afar. Not letting him see you so you could take in the guests who'd come to your island without them noticing.

Your arms moved forward, pushing downward as you swam deep into the water - a simple maneuver to avoid any water at the surface moving and giving away your presence underneath.

He was leaning over the vines now, still positive he'd seen something as you finally made yourself visible - curls with the most colorful shells braided into them was one of the first things he saw as you met his eyes -

What an extraordinary shade they were.

You smirked, whispering a playful boo as those stunning eyes widened.

He was startled, stumbling backwards from pure surprise - you had caught him off guard, and the fact made you laugh.

He watched as you came out of the water - the act reminding him of a flower blooming with the way your beauty appeared when he'd least expected it.

The way you approached him was mesmerizing- your curls moving like waves when you walked. And the manner in which you moved your hands to do the gesture I see you had his clenched fists opening with a tender feeling too overwhelming.

He knew Eywa had heard him - knew she had given him something so special when he'd first seen your precious smile.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

You were exceptionally good at making him nervous.

It was a feeling he'd been feeling a lot recently.

Like when the Tsahik would visit his family's Marui and ask how they were doing, her piercing eyes unwavering as Neteyam quieted instantly - his palms sweaty as he waited for the news. War had come. They had to leave - any of those seemed possible with the way her eyes seemed to ice over when she looked at them.

Mastering the Ilu was another thing he'd grown nervous of - watching even Lo'ak - his baby bro - whom he'd always needed to help, master it and already bond with the fellow clan members had him saddened. The disappointment was something suffocating as he struggled every single day.

But with you, his nervousness was something different

It was like a bird - fluttering and caged in his chest, wanting to break through and fly freely.

You became the one he would seek out every morning and night, his mind beginning to recognize the familiar path from his Marui to yours. He liked how your stare wasn't something accusing - but something curious. Your gentle questions soothed him - they were calm and kind and so sweet that his face would warm due to the thrilling sensation of your eyes staring into his.

There was something different about you from the rest of the clan - something he loved so much.

Your eyes were the darkest color he'd ever seen was what he'd quickly realized. They were not the same striking turquoise as the rest of the clan, but a deep hue of blue that reminded him of home. A shade so comforting to him, one that reminded him of the sky before eclipse. Of the plants back at home - of himself and everything he loved.

Maybe they should have been alarming - it would have been to anyone else who'd never seen such a color. But for him, it was different. He could never put it into words - but your eyes never made him uneasy.

Unexplainable, was what you'd told him when he'd asked you about them, it was a trait you were simply born with.

He wondered if you had yet realized that your eyes were the exact color of his skin.

You loved exploring the island too - you'd take him with you, showing Neteyam your favorite sights and your favorite treats to eat.

When you asked him about his life before - he didn't speak with the sadness he expected to come when talking about his home, but a feeling similar to bliss came as he imagined showing you the forest. Oh how you would adore the plants - the animals - and how well you would fit into his clan. Your heart would be something they would treasure. He imagined showing you everything he loved the same way you showed him the reef.

It did not take long for him to realize that you did not have friends.

He'd see you at dinner, sitting alone but seemingly pleased as you ate by yourself.

You were in your own little world was what he'd quickly realized - you'd watch the sky a lot and close your eyes, a content smile on your face was how he'd catch you many times. He wished to be with you - in whatever world you were in.

You were like his sister, Kiri - your connection to Eywa so deeply rooted, just like hers.

He worried he was interrupting your solitude at times- but he did not want to leave you alone.

When he asked if he was in fact distrusting your peace, you laughed - a sound that had him releasing a breath he didn't even know he was holding in.

No - he was not, in any form, disturbing your peace. You told him he was someone you looked forward to - and the fondness in your voice had him moving closer to you - where the two of you sat on rocks nearby the ongoing clan having dinner

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

"You look forward to meeting me?"

The hesitation in his voice when he spoke was heartbreaking. He was looking at the water - avoiding your eyes. But they glistened in the moonlight, and you felt your heart break at the sight. You promised yourself to never see him so unsure of himself, to always show him how special he was. How special he was to you.

"Neteyam." You whispered

He turned, swallowing the lump in his throat as you smiled at him, unable to contain your affection for the Sully boy

"You are special. So special. I am beyond lucky Eywa has allowed our paths to cross. To me, you are my secret treasure." You teased as his familiar smile appeared - his sharp fangs peaking through as he looked at you.

"Funny. I thought the same way about you."

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

He did not know when he had fallen for you, but he knew he was too caught up and entangled in your little word to even realize.

Maybe it was when he saw you interacting with Tuk the first time. He'd been looking for you all morning - worried and sad by the fact that he simply could not find you for the life of him, only to hear your bubbly laugh - followed by his little sister’s as he found both of you swimming together

"Neteyam! I made a new friend!" Was what Tuk squealed

"Neteyam, how could you hide this adorable little girl from me for this long?" Was what you'd asked teasingly, Tuk's eyes round with love as she looked up at you with nothing but pure adoration from your kindness

Or maybe he realized his love for you when you gifted him his favorite accessory - a simple bracelet with a beautiful blue shell intertwined expertly between the thin vines - your cheeks pink and your laughter nervous as you handed him the gift. His cheeks were just as red as he stumbled over his words - thanking you over and over again as you looked at him with the same eyes he loved so much

He never took it off - never would.

Sometimes he thought it was when you'd first met - but he knows that even if it was, he only grew to love you more as the months went by.

But when did he grow so protective?

He knows what day that was.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Ao'nung had been persistent, annoying you to the point where you had simply stopped replying

"I mean, I knew you were a freak from the start - but betraying your own clan, hanging out with that Sully boy? I mean - that is just low." He laughed, his goons right behind them as they only encouraged his insults with their own rising laughter

Your head was down as you continued weaving the basket in front of you, not even raising your head to look at the crowd of boys around you

"Yea, why do you even hang out with him? Found someone as out of place as you? Didn't know you'd be so friendly with those half bloods - "

The way he'd spit his words out was what angered you the most

"Do not call them that." You finally snapped, Ao'nung was unable to stop himself from taking a step back from the look in your eyes

"You are wrong - I hope you know that Ao'nung." You seethed, eyes alight as the boy bared his teeth

" I can't believe you. You should just leave with them - I doubt anyone would miss you." He spat, hands clenched by his sides as you heard a voice

"Hey!"

It was a distant sound, but your brows furrowed with alarm as you watched Lo'ak approach - immediately standing in front of you with crossed arms

"Don't talk to her like that." He said firmly as you tried blinking away your surprise - of course he'd seen you and Neteyam together at times, but you'd only spoken to him on a few occasions. Your interactions were short - but sweet. You knew he'd taken a liking to you, but you never believed he was willing to stand up for you like this. You smiled, standing up to match his height as you hissed at Ao'nung's little crowd - the boys immediately moving back and mumbling something as Lo'ak laughed - turning back to you with a proud gleam in his eyes as you merely smiled back

Of course they felt threatened by you - some thought your silence and solitude was something dangerous, but you never felt the need to explain that this was just how you were. Talkative - but not with everyone.

"Familiarizing yourself with the whole family I see." Ao'nung barked as you merely shook your head, a frown on your face as you gently grabbed hold of Lo'ak's shoulder

"Come on, it is ok. We'll leave." You insisted gently

Normally, Lo'ak would've ignored a command like that and barged head first into the argument - but Lo'ak knew his brother - he'd never spend so much of his time with someone who wasn't worth listening to. And he knew you - though very little, you were someone he trusted.

Slowly, he nodded his head, shielding your body from the group with his own as he led you away from the crowd. Unfortunately, Ao'nung's hand found your arm as he tugged you back the second Lo'ak turned his head.

You stumbled back as Ao'nung practically growled at Lo'ak

"Think you can just take every person from this clan to mix with your dirty family?" He snapped, eyes alight as he stared at Lo'ak with nothing but hate - you were trying desperately to pull your arm out of his grasp as he tightened his grip.

"Ao'nung - let go." You pleaded as Lo'ak clenched his jaw, looking towards you and where Ao'nung's hands forcefully held you before shaking his head.

"Sorry, Y/n." Was all Lo'ak said as he moved forward to attack Ao'nung with a fury she believed no one could waver - all until she heard him.

No - no she did not hear him, she simply felt his presence. And his rage was not something to be reckoned with as he split the group apart with a menacing shove - knocking some boys over as they tripped from the force of his push - their yells of surprise were silenced as Neteyam stood in front of Ao'nung.

His lips were pulled back - fangs bared threateningly as Ao'nung's face fell

"Back. Off. Now." Neteyam hissed, standing in front of Y/n and Lo'ak - the younger Sully boy almost cowering behind Neteyam - never had they seen him so... enraged.

Ao'nung scoffed - but remained silent. Looking back and forth between the three in front of him before scowling - turning away, and walking off. His little friends were following the boy's footsteps only moments later - their yells of outrage ignored as Ao'nung merely walked away.

Neteyam turned around, his eyes concerned as he immediately reached for Y/n - his hands holding her shoulders as he looked into her eyes - looking for any sign of hurt or pain -

"Are you ok? Are you hurt?" He questioned - and Lo'ak watched you nod your head, whispering I'm fine repeatedly as Neteyam wrapped his arms around you the momet you confirmed you were ok

"It is fine. We are all fine." She reassured as Neteyam finally looked towards Lo'ak - who only stared back with wide eyes

He'd never seen Neteyam so upset before. And he'd never seen Neteyam so... protective. He'd covered Lo'ak's ass multiple times - but the way he'd approached Ao'nung had Lo'ak's own teeth clattering, feared for Ao'nung's safety - but sickeningly pleased by his brother's reaction.

"Thanks bro." He managed, giving Lo'ak a gentle smack on the back of his neck as the boy merely swatted his hands away with a laugh

"Don't touch me bro!" He said, a grin on his face which faltered as he turned towards Y/n with a gentleness in his eyes that Neteyam had not seen before.

"You ok?" He asked as Y/n smiled - moving forward and enveloping Lo'ak in her and Neteyam's hug - the trio now standing with arms all around each other as she laughed

"Fine! More than fine. Thank you, Lo'ak." She cooed, gently pinching the boy's cheek. He looked away, his blush evident and bright as he shrugged his shoulders, suddenly shy as he mumbled a quick no worries that had Neteyam laughing - this time, Y/n being the one to gently swat the back of Neteyam's neck for teasing the younger Sully boy.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

You were laying on the sand - the moonlight shining on you and outlining your figure.

He stood only a few meters away - his hands clutching the necklace in his hands as he watched you with the same nervousness fluttering in his chest.

Your head was tipped towards the sky - lips pulled into a content and peaceful smile - something he wished to never disturb.

And he wouldn't - but his favorite eyes peaked open, immediately catching him.

You never failed to feel his presence.

He laid down next to you, and you shifted your body to lay closer to him. His gift was tucked underneath the palm of his hand as the sound of the waves crashing against the shore filled the quiet.

He rested his head against yours, and you leaned your body into his as he gently grabbed your hand, moving your fingers and pointing them towards the sky.

"You know, my dad came from a star."

You listened quietly, your hand squeezing his and giving him the reassurance he needed to continue.

"That one - right there." He whispered, pointing towards the gleaming light as you followed where he’d moved your hand - staring at the faraway star he pointed to with a faint smile

"I have a feeling you are about to tell me something important." You whispered, and he looked back at you - stared right into those beautiful eyes as he grinned

"You know everything about me - but this, this is something I have not told you yet." He whispered back, sitting up as you followed his movements

"My dad tells me all the time about his love for my mother - I was talking to him yesterday about how he knew he loved her." He started, eyes gentle as his hands held the necklace behind his back - fingers running over the engravings he'd spent hours carving as you looked at him with the same curious glint in your eyes that he loved to see

"He said he did not know - he was spending too much time with her to notice how badly he had fallen in love. But - when he did realize, he said it was like her filling a hole in his heart he didn't even know he had." He breathed out - and you could feel your own heartbeat quicken as he moved his hands from behind his back to reveal the most beautiful necklace you would ever see.

"Y/n - you and I, we are made for each other. I know this. I feel it everyday - " He spoke - his voice breaking as he looked at you, tears brimming as you tried to calm yourself by taking a few breaths

"Be my mate, yawne." He whispered, his smile so bright and beautiful as you finally sobbed

"Neteyam - yes. Yes yes yes!"

He put the necklace around your neck - a courting gift - his finger tracing over your stripes as he clasped it - securing it before moving his hands to cradle your face.

He kissed you - sweet lips meeting yours.

"My sweet girl."

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gallavichsreddie1128 · 2 months

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Enemies to Lovers (Wolverine)

Description: Enemies to Lovers with Wolverine and Y/N

Author’s note: I had a request for hate sex (which I can still do) but decided to do this for now.

Wade smirked as Y/N walked out in her new outfit that the TVA gave her. She looked really sexy. “Hey beautiful. Don’t you look like you’re ready to get fucked.”

Y/N gave him a weird look but shrugged it off as Paradox began to tell them that their universe was about to die off. Oh Hell No!

Wade and her did not like that but when Y/N found out that Logan of all people was the reason why…she was livid.

The second they find him she punches him in the face. He chuckled and stood up getting ready to face the person that did that. Only to be faced with Y/N.

He looked down at her, amused by her, “No wonder that punch didn’t hurt so bad.” She went to punch him again but harder. Wade had stopped her before she could.

“We need him Y/N/N. I sense in the near future you may be under him and not in a fighting way.” He teases. This Logan was a drunk and let down his universe. Y/N wasn’t taking that.

“Look asshole, you’re coming with us to fix this. Because you’re the reason that it’s happening.” She yelled at him before Wade held the gun to his head.

He was not taking them seriously at all. He laughed and drank himself to sleep. Y/N gasped as his body hit the ground. “Well this one will do.” Wade said.

Y/N secretly did a double take at him in the “comic accurate” suit as Wade put it. He did look good but she still hated him.

She rolled her eyes as Paradox made both of them disappear. “Let’s go.” She said and before she fought Paradox he made her disappear too.

She ran up to the boys as they were fighting. “Hey.” She kept yelling but they kept fighting.

She watched and almost came as Logan ran on all fours towards Wade. She stared at him for a good 5 seconds after.

She snapped out of it and attacked him to the ground. “No time for games, Wolvy.” She said and held her knife up to his throat.

He would never admit it but he found that super hot. She was super hot but yet she was an asshole.

When Johnny showed up and started flirting with Y/N. Logan felt a little jealous but he shouldn’t. She laughed at every joke he said while they were tied up together.

Wade watched as Logan rolled his eyes at the two and instantly knew that he was jealous. “Awww is Wolvy jealous?” He asked, teasing him.

“Of what?” He asked, annoyed. “Of fire dick flirting with your girl.” Y/N was not his girl. But before he could deny what Wade said, Johnny started talking to all of them about Nova.

Y/N had never met anyone in the X-men so she never knew Charles or that he had a sister. Wade and Logan didn’t know either.

“Oh your thoughts were naughty naughty earlier Y/N.” She said to her with a wink. Wade was hella curious but Logan couldn’t give two fucks, thinking it was about Johnny.

When Nova killed Johnny, Y/N glared at Wade. “Are you fucking kidding me?” She asked him. “You just got him killed!.” Wade was shocked that they were on the same page.

“Wade, you’re a dick! I can’t believe you did that!” She yelled at Wade after he got Johnny killed. “Boo hoo he got your little boyfriend killed.” Y/N glared at him but Wade had to stop them before they fought.

Nicepool also made an enemy out of Logan after he saw him briefly check her out and drop the biggest bomb ever: “You look just like my wife who just had a baby.”

Y/N was his wife…well a different Y/N. Wade was shocked by the news as was Logan. “So Y/N you’re married to me in a different universe?” Wade was kind of excited.

Y/N shrugged and walked past them. Logan wasn’t thrilled by the news but why did he care so much? Y/N wasn’t even thrilled by the news.

The Honda Odyssey where fights and almost fucking happened.

After Logan’s speech to Wade Y/N did one too but for Logan, “I know you’re not talking Mr. I fucked up in all my universes. Maybe we should have let you drank yourself to death because it’s clear that you aren’t any help anywhere.”

Ouch that was harsh

“He lied to me. Oh I’m sorry you guys lied to me.” He yelled back, kinda hurt by her words.

“You’re the reason that our universe is going dickhead! It seems like you’re useless in every universe.”

“Yeah well in my universe you were a whore on the street.”

Y/N chuckled at that and thus began the fighting. Y/N wanted this no good loser dead but unfortunately that couldn’t happen.

Waking up to Logan drinking and Wade cuddling her was not what she had in mind. “Thor.” Wade yelled as he woke up. “What the fuck?” Y/N said as she sat up.

Gambit was another problem for Logan as he also was flirting with Y/N. “Just like in my universe.” Logan groaned as he watched as Y/N flirted with the card guy.

“That girl in there. Do you actually hate her?” Laura asked him. He shrugged, “No but she hates me and it seems like she does in every universe.”

Y/N and him never got along in his universe and she was still the same here. But they would have to work together to put an end to this.

A team they made and it was pretty good. Both of them along with the others took down most of the people and Nova…almost

“What do you mean don’t kill her?” Y/N yelled at him but unlike her Logan knew Charles and this wasn’t what he would want.

When Nova let him go back to their universe Y/N fell right on Logan. They both groaned and looked at each other. It was almost like the world had stopped before Wade interrupted, “Listen guys you can fuck later. We have a universe to save.”

Seeing Nicepool again was not a good thing especially when the other deadpools arrived. “Ewww Wade they’re so many of you.” Y/N said and that made Logan laugh. At least they could agree on something.

The Mask? Oh Y/N felt the hate leave her body while he wore it. It was very sexy and he smirked at her before they fought the pools.

Once it was over they sighed but unfortunately it wasn’t over and they all got back up. “So only Nicepool could die?” She asked in shock as the others were alive again.

Peter Pool saved the day and they escaped to Paradox. Y/N felt herself get sick at the thought of losing herself or Wade for this universe. She almost wanted to push for it to be Logan.

But she cared about him too and also hated that idea. “It has to be toots.” Wade looked at her and held her hands. “Wade, No you can’t.” She said with tears in her eyes.

“It needs to be me.” Logan said not expecting her to disagree. “It can’t be either of you.” She said which surprised him. “Well it certainly won’t be you.” Wade told her.

“Why can’t it?” But before he could respond Logan did, “Look I know you hate me and want me dead but I regret us hating each other in my universe. I want you to be happy in this one.” Right there in that moment she fell in love.

Sobbing at the fact that she would lose one of them until they came out alive and oh boy did she let her jaw drop at Logan’s abs.

“Like what ya see sweetheart?” He asked with a smirk and she didn’t deny it. “Put on a shirt you slut.” Y/N took the shirt from Wade and shook her head.

Logan chuckled at that and took the shirt from her hands, “You’ll see more of it later sweetheart.” He told her and Wade looked surprised.

“Oh so now we have enemies to lovers in these films.” Wade said and they looked confused.

“What?”

#deadpool and wolverine #deadpool 3 #wolverine #wolverine xmen #wolverine smut #wolverine x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett smut #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #hugh jackman #ryan reynolds #deadpool #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #mcu

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yjhzies · 2 months

Text

“Silly pranks.” — Yoon Jeonghan

⸝⸝୭ ˚. fluff . soft . pinch of angst

⋆ pairings : jeonghan x f!reader ⋆ warning : none! (let me know if there is ^^) ⋆ wc : 0.8k [✉️] · never in a million years, did Jeonghan think that you can get mad at his silly pranks.

⋆ - note : I SWEAR THERE IS BASICALLY NO ANGST. angst is not for me chat, im sorry 😟 bcz believe me or not, i WILL find a way to add full fluff to an angsty story bcz thats just how i am and im not the strongest to see a whole depressing story unfold before my eyes knowing i can fix it 😔😔

Jeonghan knew you never got mad at his silly pranks; instead, you went along with them.

It was the weekend, so Jeonghan and the boys had a day off. You had left early in the morning for somewhere important, and Jeonghan could not help but sulk about it. You had not even told him before leaving; he found out by calling you. He tried calling the members to see if anyone was free to hang out, but everyone was preoccupied with their own work.

And Yoon Jeonghan always wants to be entertained, which right now, he wasn't.

That is how, just like any other day, he had pulled a prank on you. What he didn't expect though, is that he was gonna regret every bit of it later.

You had called Jeonghan to let him know you would be back around 4 p.m., which was the perfect time to carry out his plan. It was not particularly unique; all he was going to do was jump out of nowhere and scare you.

It didn't take long for you to arrive home.

"Hannie, I'm ho—"

"BOO!!!"

You flinch and scream, dropping your bag to the ground. Jeonghan let out an evil giggle.

"Yoon Jeonghan! I'm gonna kill you one day!" With a shout, you grab your bag and head to your shared bedroom. Jeonghan just stood there, astounded, staring at you as you hurried off. He quickly realised he messed up, and hastily trailed behind you.

"Baby!" he called out, following you to your bedroom. "Baby, are you mad? I'm sorry—" You shut the door on his face, causing him to pause and pout.

"Baby..." he whined, fidgeting on the doorknob and pouting. "I'm sorry, I had no intention to make you mad, trust me!" He said, followed by silence, as he hoped you would hear him and open the door, but you did not.

He sighed, looking down at the floor. To stop the tear that was about to fall down his cheek, he took a deep breath. He had no idea you would get mad, you've never gotten mad at him before.

He walked slowly over to the couch and threw himself down, sinking into the fabric. "I'm sorry..." He mumbled to himself and stared at the locked bedroom door.

Hours passed, and Jeonghan was still waiting for you, pouting. His face lit up as the door unlocked, revealing you. He leaped from the couch and came running toward you as soon as you entered the kitchen.

He followed you like a puppy, calling you "Baby," as you reached to open the refrigerator. "Please don't be mad, I just wanted to do a harmless prank."

His shoulders slumped as he followed you around the kitchen, not receiving a response. He frowned when he noticed you take a frozen snack from the fridge.

"Why are you gonna eat that? I made you your favourite dish with the help of a guide book."

"I don't want to eat it."

You knew you were being petty, but you couldn't help it. And a part of you also wanted to see THE Yoon Jeonghan being a simp for you.

"Why not...!" He whined, wrapping his arms around your torso from behind, snuggling his forehead against your neck and stomping his feet.

"Do you know how long it took me to cook that? I nearly burned down the kitchen." He spoke, his voice cracking at the end of the sentence. He was not about to cry—actually, he was—but he despised the idea of you being so angry at him that you refused to eat his food.

When you heard his voice falter, you snapped to attention as he fixed his gaze on your shoulder. His eyes were clear of tears, but his bottom lip was stuck out in a huge pout as he absent-mindedly traced patterns on your stomach with his fingers.

With wide puppy eyes, he gazed at you when you fully turned to face him. You smile and extend your arms for him to hug you. His eyes widen, his face brightens, and he squeals before squeezing closer to you and resting his head on your shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you mad." His voice muffled by your shirt, he apologized.

"It's okay, I'm sorry too." You coo as you pat his back. "I overreacted anyways, you were just doing a silly little prank."

"I promise I won't prank you ever again."

"Why not? I love your pranks." You frowned, and Jeonghan smiled against your shirt.

"Baby," he mumbled. "Can I get a kiss?" he asked quietly. Right now, you would want nothing more than to kiss his pout away.

You smile and gently cup his cheek, lifting his head off your shoulder before leaning in for a kiss on his lips. His smile was softer than usual, definitely not the teasing kind he was known for right now.

"I'm sorry, again."

"Don't be, it's not your fault." You peck his lips again, and just as you were about to pull back, Jeonghan leaned in and kissed your lips again, this time sweetly and deeply.

The fact that you could feel his gentleness and sincerity in the kiss was enough to convince you that he never wants to make you mad again.

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georgeclarkesgf · 3 months

Text

shush, it's a secret | george clarke

it's not unusual for you to be over at george's flat considering you and him met at university and both moved to london around the same time. but about four months ago, your relationship changed from close friends to just that, a relationship.

you'd both decided to not tell anyone, despite how difficult it was proving to be to not be all over each other 24/7. the fans knew of you, to an extent. you'd appear in the backgrounds of videos or tiktoks posted by the boys. your social media was public, however, none of your accounts included your name, making it less likely for fans to find you.

tonight, you're over at the flat again, legs strewn over george's lap and eating some of the dominoes he'd ordered. a movie chris had picked out plays on the tv, but was now long forgotten about since a debate has broken out amongst the boys. over what? you don't know. you're too focused on the way george's hand is subconsciously trailing up your thigh, dangerously high for a 'close friend'. he honestly hasn't noticed that he's doing it, too engaged in the ongoing debate. so, you pick your phone up from your chest and message him.

too high x

his phone dings and he leans forward, grabbing it off the table before noticing it was from you. you watch as his brows furrow in confusion, before sending him another message.

your hand x

realisation hits george and he squeezes your thigh gently as an apology, moving his hand back down to rest above your knees. he mouths 'sorry' at you, to which you can't help but giggle and shake your head. arthur (hill) looks between you two in slight confusion, going to say something but deciding to keep his mouth shut.

it wasn't that you didn't want to tell people, you'd both just agreed it would be easier figuring things out and adjusting to this shift in dynamic without other people prying their noses in. it didn't make the thrill of getting caught any less exciting though. even the simple things such as him wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your shoulder made you get an adrenaline rush.

you can feel your eyes growing heavy, despite it still being relatively early, and decide to call it a night.

"sorry guys but i'm gonna head to bed," an echo of boos fill the room while you shrug, laughing, "i'm tired guys leave me alone. mind if i crash in your bed george?"

it feels weird having to ask your boyfriend if you can sleep in his bed, but it seems to be doing the trick of keeping the relationship a secret. there are only three bedrooms and you've known george the longest, so it makes sense you'd stay in his room.

"no go for it, i probably won't be long." you give him a smile and climb off the sofa, heading to his room.

george's eyes widen when he next checks the time, not realising it was so late.

"shit." he mumbles to himself, gaining a weird look from the boys.

"you alright george?" arthur (hill) questions.

"yea i'm fine. just didn't realise it was so late that's all, got stuff to do tomorrow. i'm gonna go to bed though, night guys." he was lying right through his teeth, he had nothing to do tomorrow.

what george had meant to be ten minutes or so had turned into an hour and a half. arthur (tv) ended up coming over and they'd gotten so caught up in conversation that time seemed to fly by. he knows that you hate falling asleep without him and feels guilt seep into his skin. especially since he knows you won't ask for him to come to bed, not wanting it to come off weird since to the others, you're 'just friends'.

you're staring at the ceiling when he shuts his bedroom door, having fallen asleep for all of twenty minutes before you woke up to an empty bed over an hour ago.

"i'm so sorry baby, i didn't realise it had been that long," you turn to look at him, enjoying the way he starts stroking your cheek with his thumb, "have you been waiting for me?"

"mhm, fell asleep for about twenty minutes and been awake since. it's okay though, kept myself busy," george's jaw drops slightly, clearly misunderstanding your words, "oh my god george, no! i meant by reading some more of my book you perv. get your mind out the gutter."

he laughs and goes in to kiss you but you push his forehead away before he can. you scrunch up your face in disgust.

"ow, what was that for?" he's rubbing his forehead like you just hit him with a bat, making it much more dramatic than necessary.

"brush your teeth, you have pizza breath." he tries to do it again and catch you off guard but fails, "i mean it george."

"yes ma'am."

he disappears into the bathroom and returns a few minutes later. his teeth are brushed and he's wearing a pair of grey joggers. your arms open wide, inviting him to lay on top of you so you can run your nails through his hair and up and down his back. a feeling both of you love.

"can i kiss you now?" he teases, grin widening when you nod your head.

several kisses are planted on your face and you know he's purposefully missing your lips. you frown, wanting him to kiss you properly, not having felt his lips on yours in what felt like years. realistically, it's been a few hours.

"george, kiss me properly." you whine.

and he does just that. one hand holding himself up to hover over you, the other stroking your cheek and bringing you in closer until your lips finally meet. the kiss starts off slow and loving, until he presses you further into the mattress, his hands beginning to roam your body. every ounce of sleep you were feeling disappears, suddenly becoming hyper aware of what's happening.

pulling away, you mumble, "we can't, everyone's here. they'll hear us."

"never stopped us before." george whispers against your mouth, connecting your lips once again.

well touché.

a/n don't ask where the inspiration for this came from at 2 in the morning cause i don't have an answer. not proofread either sorryyy. shall i make a part two? i feel like i'll end up doing it anyway but what do you guys think??

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hannieehaee · 11 months

Text

OVER MY HEAD

18+ / mdi

summary: moving out of state for college was a terrifying experience for most people. fortunately for you, you had your older brother wonwoo to guide you while there, and even better, his best friend mingyu.

content: brother'sbestfriend!mingyu, fratboy!mingyu, pining, friends to lovers, angst (only a little), reader's a chronic overthinker, slow burn, smut, f reader, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, wonwoo's kinda absent </3, crying (blame mingyu), etc.

wc: 15k

a/n: idk how frats work so im sorry for any inaccuracies T-T

cont.

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one-time tip! <3

Wonwoo was only ten years old when his parents decided he was old enough to venture out into his neighborhood alone, immediately wanting to seek his established group of friends from school to run amok, free of parental supervision. This was not without condition, however, as Wonwoo's swift exit was halted by his mother, a very small you in hand as you stared up at your brother.

Most boys would've groaned at their mother's insistence in including their little sister in their outings. Fortunately for you, your older brother Wonwoo was not like most boys. Being your elder by one year, Wonwoo had easily found a best friend in you, not caring for the looks of annoyance he received when he walked up to his friend's house with you in hand, ready to introduce his little sister to his group of friends. Whether the groans of annoyance ever peeved Wonwoo off or not, he never let it show. He tended to ignore any complaints that came from his friends over the years at the inclusion of a younger girl in every occasion. Despite the childish annoyance his friends had at your presence, Wonwoo didn't seem to care, continuing to indulge you as a friend more-so than just a sister as the both of you grew up. Had your mother not asked Wonwoo to include you that first time, you firmly believe Wonwoo would have still found a way to worm you into his social life. He was your best friend after all.

It went like this for years. Every friend group Wonwoo was a part of, every outing, every landmark in his life, you were always there. It was easy for you to befriend Wonwoo's friends over the years. As you both grew up, friends came and went, leaving you and Wonwoo to be one of the only constants in each other's lives. His friends were your friends, and vice versa. The more you grew up, the less new friends of his complained about your presence, having grown out of the 'girls are gross!' phases of their lives. However, there was always one anomaly. One outlier who never dared boo at your presence. And that was Kim Mingyu.

You had met Mingyu at the young age of 9 years old. That same day your brother first brought you along to meet his friends, with you shyly hiding behind his back as they all groaned at the intrusion of a little girl. ('I'm only one year younger', you had thought to yourself at the time). It was almost a chorus of complains, except for one silent voice. That of Kim Mingyu's. The small boy, aged 10, just like your brother, made it a point to step forward and stretch his hand towards yours, promptly introducing himself as Kim Mingyu, Wonwoo's best friend. At first that didn't sit right with you. What did he mean by Wonwoo's best friend? That was your title! Despite your initial childish annoyance, you didn't let it show. You were just excited to meet your brother's friends, feeling an extra bit of appreciation for the boy who welcomed you with open arms.

You kept meeting routinely after that. You'd begrudgingly attend school, being separated by gender during recess throughout all of elementary school, thus unable to hang out with your brother and his friends. And then you'd arrive home, ready to head out and play around with Wonwoo's crew. You grew together like this. Finally in middle school you were able to join Wonwoo's friends even at school. Despite being used to your presence, this still caused controversy among the boys, not wanting to sour their vibe with the presence of a pre-teen girl (But they were pre-teens too, you had thought). But once again, Mingyu welcomed you with open arms, having by now befriended you, and by then even forming a slight rivalry with you over the title of Wonwoo's best friend.

It went on like this until high school. By now, Wonwoo's various friend groups had dispersed with the passing of time. Some friends came and went, while some branched out to other people. The only constants were Wonwoo, Mingyu and, of course, you. You'd hang out with the tall duo every day, never really bothering to make friends of your own. You were not a loner nor a loser by any means; you did have friends, but you knew where your home was, and that was with your brother and his best friend. This is what made junior year of high school even more devastating for you. What was supposed to be a fun year, attending junior prom and preparing for senior year, was filled with isolation from your two best friends, as they were constantly taken away from you by preparation for university. You had dreaded this day. The day you'd pass from being a junior to a senior, inevitably leading to your brother's graduation and subsequent departure as he left for college.

It hadn't been that bad. Mingyu and Wonwoo had gotten accepted to the same college, urging you to come visit whenever you wanted, and reassuring you that in only one more year you'd be reunited. Senior year proved to be hard. Despite having friend groups to fall back on now that your brother was gone, you still missed the elder's presence. And that of who had now become one of your greatest friends; Kim Mingyu. On the rare occasion that Wonwoo was gone - occasions which increased as his college schedule began to become more and more polluted, - Mingyu was always there for you. The man who never treated you as a nuance, but who thoroughly enjoyed your company as much as he did Wonwoo's. He had come to become a nucleus in your life.

Time went by very fast. After a grueling year of separation, you were finally ready to attend university. Your communication with Wonwoo had died out a bit over the year, but you simply chalked it up to scheduling issues and him dealing with the stress of his new lifestyle. Mingyu had surprisingly remained more constant, always updating you on both his life and that of Wonwoo's. Despite any changes in your dynamic, your plan to reunite was still ongoing. You had applied to the same school Mingyu and Wonwoo ended up at, ecstatic at the acceptance letter you received a few months later. It had been decided, you were now to follow in your brother's footsteps and attend university with him. This was the moment you'd waited for a whole year, and it was now finally here.

Attending university was something that terrified you. You no longer had set schedules or teachers that made everything as straightforward as they once did. You were now expected to do things on your own, like any adult. You were also now living alone. Well, with a roommate. But it felt all the same. You had hoped you'd somehow move into some apartment off campus with your friend and brother, but that hope soon died after Wonwoo hit you with the news that they had both joined a fraternity, meaning their housing was already allotted for.

You hadn't wanted to tell your brother about your fears of college life, not wanting to give him the burden, yet again, of holding your hand as he led a path for you. It was only your first week, you reasoned, you'd get the hang of things soon enough.

With your first week came your second and your third, leaving you worn out at how lonely you felt even now that you were so close to your brother. It seemed like his priorities had changed a bit over the past year. Your usually shy and reserved brother had become well known around school, having joined many clubs and even working around school. While still the good boy you always knew him as, his attention was elsewhere for once; no longer putting his sole focus on you. He was busy, with his mind clearly elsewhere at all times. You had expected him to branch out in college, knowing that was simply the natural course of life, but it still disheartened you a bit, having hoped against reason that you'd always be as close as you were as kids. This had come as a heartbreaking revelation to you. You decided to not let it be known, however, choosing to make the best of the few times your brother would still have time to hang out with you.

Like today. Today was your first frat party. Your initiation, as Mingyu called it. Your brother and friend were excited to introduce you to college life, wanting to be present as you attended your first party, just as precaution. You appreciated their concern, truly, still feeling anxious at the brand new environment.

You found yourself alone after a bit, with Wonwoo being dragged away by some of his fraternity brothers, claiming they needed help doing a beer run. You'd learned recently that Wonwoo had made his presence in the frat well-established, usually tending to frat duties out of his own volition. You didn't see him again after that. Your loneliness didn't last for long, however, as you soon found a familiar shadow behind you. Kim Mingyu.

"Hey, baby. How's the party going? Having fun?", he had taken the habit of calling you baby as of recently, teasing you over what he claimed to be an age difference between the two of you.

"The drinks suck, Wonwoo left, I'm overdressed, and I keep freaking out whenever guys approach me," you listed off, sipping the drink in your hand regardless of its stale taste.

"Guys? Who's 'guys'? No one should be talking to you, you're Wonwoo's sister," he had also taken the habit of being overprotective, specially since your arrival at university, at some point giving you a stern talk about which type of guys you should avoid. You felt it kind of hypocritical, really, seeing as Mingyu was the center of attention for many girls at the party.

"Also, you look beautiful. There's no such thing as overdressed," he was also sweet and thoughtful, you remembered.

"Thank you, Gyu. You should go mingle! Don't feel like you have to babysit me."

"Babysit you? We're best friends, I don't know if you remember? We haven't hung out since you moved into campus! Come on, let me make you a better drink," and with that, he grabbed your hand and pulled you with him to a secluded area of the fraternity's kitchen, pulling out various bottles and making a concoction of who knows what.

"Here. Don't ask what it is, and don't tell your parents I fed you alcohol."

You weren't much of a drinker back home, but upon arriving to college you knew you'd have to be down to drink every now and then, so without thinking too much of it, you sipped Mingyu's drink. But that had been a mistake, as you promptly spit out what you could only assume to be lighter fluid in a red solo cup.

"Mingyu, what the fuck?! Did you just give me fucking gasoline? How can you drink this?"

He chuckled at your reaction, gently dabbing your lips with a napkin to get rid of the remnants of the alcohol you'd spit out.

"Okay, too strong for you. Got it. Sorry, baby. Forgot you're still a little kid."

"One year, Mingyu. Eight months, actually."

"Same difference! Now come on, come dance with me. Don't want your first party to be a waste."

You spent the rest of the night like this, being dragged back and forth by a very excitable Mingyu as he showed you what he believed to be the 'proper way to party' in a frat. You appreciated his company. Immensely. All while you forgot the one person who was missing from this important first-time in your college life.

The next time you saw Mingyu was the very next morning. Upon answering the incessant knocks on your door, you were met with a very soft-looking Mingyu, sporting sweats and with two coffees in hand.

"Hey, baby. Hungover?", he stepped in without a verbal welcome, handing you a coffee in the process.

"No, Mingyu. I didn't even get to finish a drink after you fed me literal gasoline. How are you not hungover, you drank like crazy!"

He shrugged, 'You get used to it. You should ask your brother. He went kinda crazy freshman year. He's chilled out a bit this year. I think he might've been overcompensating back then', he rambled.

"Well, you can ask him for me when you see him," you mumbled sadly, hating the reminder that you'd barely seen your brother since your arrival.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing, Gyu. Never mind."

"No, tell me. You're my best friend, you're supposed to tell me everything," he nudged you, coming to sit next to you on the couch. He kept calling you that too, since your arrival. You had to admit, you appreciated the swift evolution of your friendship with Mingyu upon your brother's absence as your best friend. But part of you felt as if Mingyu was only doing it out of pity, well aware that Wonwoo had been too busy for you lately.

"Mingyu, you're the only one to still think that. We're not even a friend group anymore. Wonwoo's growing out of it. Clearly. There'll probably come a point where we do too."

He stayed quiet for a beat. Okay, maybe that was too intense for a 9am ice breaker.

"What the hell are you talking about? I'm friends with Wonwoo. I'm friends with you. Is there anything else to it? Anything I missed??"

"Wonwoo and I haven't spoken properly in weeks. You don't have to keep tabs on me for him anymore. I guess this was just the natural course of life."

"Baby, I'm not 'keeping tabs on you.' You're my best friend. How many times do I have to say it? I don't care that you're Wonwoo's sister. I never have. You know that."

He was right. He'd never made a distinction between you and Wonwoo as far as friendship went. You could even argue that you'd grown closer to Mingyu than Wonwoo during the past few years. The thought depressed you, but it also reassured you of your friendship with Mingyu. You had been slightly insecure of your friendship with Mingyu ever since you'd grown closer, seeing how popular and well loved he was, so it was nice to hear reassurance directly from him.

"You know what, fuck Wonwoo! Let's hang out. Just the two of us."

You laughed, knowing he was kidding at the expletive against your brother, but finding yourself agreeing to his proposal.

"Okay. Where are you taking me?"

"Mingyu! Since when do you have a bike?!"

In front of you stood what you could only assume to be your friend's latest impulsive purchase. A black motorcycle you were hoping he did not intend for you to ride.

"C'mon! We used to ride bikes together all the time! This is literally the same thing."

"Bikes? Do you mean bicycles? Yes, Gyu. We rode kiddie bikes, never this!"

"Baby, if you don't get your ass on this bike, I'm gonna pick you up and do it myself."

And with that you found yourself cruising through the city on the back of Mingyu's bike, clutching onto his waist as you felt the wind flow against you.

Arriving was quick. Where you arrived is what you didn't know. You were on a field, far from the general public, on a secluded area hidden by some trees but still with a nice view of the lake in front of you.

"Wonwoo and I hang out here sometimes. No one ever really comes to this part of the park because of how secluded it is. Takes a while by foot, but my bike gets us here pretty quick," he answered your question before you had a chance to verbalize it.

"Hmm. And you brought me here, why?"

"Well," he sat down, patting the patch of grass next to him so you would follow him in his actions, "you seem stressed. Thought maybe you'd wanna vent to me a bit. Like in senior year?"

He was right again. During your lonely final year of high school you had made it a habit of calling up Mingyu whenever your mood soured. You hadn't really stopped to think about how much of a constant presence Mingyu had been to you since your brother began to become more busy.

"It's nothing," you said, laying your head against his shoulder as you both stared at the lake in front of you, enjoying the serenity of the sight.

"Come on. Tell me. I won't tell anyone, pinky promise," he put out his pinky, dragging yours from your lap and intertwining them together.

"It's just .. Wonwoo. I miss him."

"Baby ..." he coo'd at your sad tone, "I know you do. He's just been busy. He loves you, you know that."

"I know, but I haven't really seen him in a while. It's so out of the ordinary for us. Is it the frat? What's keeping him busy, I mean."

"Maybe. Might be school too, his major's pretty hard. I'm not sure, actually. We haven't hung out in a while either."

Oh. So it wasn't just you. That made you feel a bit better.

"It's just. Fuck. It's so dumb. It shouldn't get to me like this. It's just my stupid brother. It's not like we'd be best friends forever," but the more you spoke, the more emotional you got, eventually feeling tears fall form at your eyes at the thought of you and your brother falling away from each other.

"Aigoo. Baby, don't cry. You're too pretty to cry," he wiped your tears with his big thumb, turning to sit even closer to you.

You looked into his eyes, feeling instant comfort from the sweetness in his gaze. You almost fell into a trance, not being able to disconnect your eyes from those of your best friend.

"Listen. How's this? We can just stick together. He can have his space, and when he's ready, we'll both be here, together. How's that sound, pretty? Wanna be my bestie? Promise I won't ever ditch you," he held your hand up again to link with his pinky once more.

He had a way of always comforting you, always putting your feelings above his. Like now. You had just found out his own best friend was icing him out in the same way he did you, yet he was comforting you.

You didn't feel the need for a verbal response, instead unlinking your pinkies and hugging him in return, humming in affirmation as he held you back.

The two of you became even closer after that. You'd join Mingyu at every frat party from then on, occasionally seeing your brother in passing as he was always on his way out, sharing very short moments of interaction with the two of you. Mingyu's constant company helped you reason Wonwoo's absences, taking a page from Mingyu's book and being more understanding.

You'd spent the entire night together, hanging back as you drank and talked, with Mingyu fending off any of his frat brothers who tried to drag him away under the vice of 'fraternity duties.' He seemed to be glued to you, not wanting to leave you alone. Any girls seeking his attention were also quickly sent away by him. You appreciated this, feeling slightly bad at hogging Mingyu's attention all night. But he didn't seem to mind. No matter how insistent you were that he could go mingle, he'd be twice as insistent that he'd rather hang with you.

He'd also visit you almost every other morning, coffee in hand as he walked you to your morning class, even if it meant he'd be late for his own. He had become the biggest presence in your life, swiftly replacing your brother who you hadn't even gotten do see in a few days. You'd spend almost every day together, never tiring of each other's company.

Even now, you were walking towards Mingyu's frat house, seeking his aid in your intro to psych course, knowing that Mingyu had taken that exact same professor his freshman year. He had told you previously that he and Wonwoo had kept a few of their freshman year notes, aware that you'd be joining them this year and would likely take the same basic classes they did when they'd first arrived.

You had known that Wonwoo and Mingyu shared rooms within the frat, but since you had not seen your brother in a few days, you were surprised at finding him upon knocking on Mingyu's door.

"Oh. Hey. What are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too, Wonwoo," you walked past him and into the room.

"That's not what I meant. I meant I haven't seen you in a while. How have you been?"

"Really, Wonwoo? I've been around."

"Yeah, I've seen you at parties and stuff. Haven't really gotten to talk to you, though. How's school? Anything you need help with?"

If there was anything your brother was, it was dense. He always had the tendency of getting lost in his own head. It didn't help that he'd sometimes fail to pick up on context cues. His innocent face as he asked about your recent whereabouts made it difficult to express any frustration at him, knowing he probably wasn't even well aware that he'd been ghosting you.

"Nothing, Wonwoo," you sighed, "I'm supposed to meet with Gyu today to go over some notes. What about you? Where have you been lately?"

"Oh. Gyu? He's in the shower, he should be back soon," he half-answered your questions. You shot him an expectant look as you waited for him to continue.

"Well?"

"What?", you continued to stare, "Oh. Oh! Sorry. Yeah, maybe I should explain, right?", he paused. "I've been busy. There's not much else to it. The frat, photography club, been thinking of joining an internship. There's too many things. Been talking to a girl too .. I didn't mean to just leave you alone like that, I'm sorry," he continued, but you'd tuned him out a bit. Why was he telling you all of this now?

"-Mingyu told me you'd been having a hard time your first week here, after that party? So I asked him to look out for you while I figured out my scheduling of things. I'm glad to see you two hanging out again, like in high school."

It had been Wonwoo? What about what Mingyu said? About you and him being friends, not needing Wonwoo to join you as best friends. You felt kind of deflated at Wonwoo's confession. You'd already kind of assumed he was busy, simply dealing with school work as the overachiever he had always been. Hearing that Mingyu's presence was a result of Wonwoo's pity was a hit in the gut, though. Were you really just the annoying little sister that needed constant supervision? You were no longer feeling sour at Wonwoo, but rather at the thought of your friendship with Mingyu being disingenuous. It hadn't felt that way when you were together, and you were sure Mingyu must've liked your company to some extent. But thinking about the implications behind Wonwoo's push to get Mingyu to watch over you made you feel small, it made y-

"Y/N? Are you listening?"

Oh. You'd gotten lost in your head and completely tuned out Wonwoo without realizing.

"I'm sorry I hurt you. I want to spend time with you, I really do. I promise I'll do better. I guess I got used to your absence while I was away. Mingyu hounded me over it last week, said you were feeling down about it. I never meant to make you feel like we weren't friends. I'm sorry."

You felt both disappointed and touched. You hated thinking of Mingyu and Wonwoo talking about your feelings behind your back. Well, maybe not behind your back, seeing as Wonwoo had no issue letting you know. It was still embarrassing nonetheless. It was hard not to let all those years of being known as Wonwoo's annoying little sister get to you at times; just a leech that clung to him instead of making friends of her own. You didn't want to believe that Mingyu felt the same way too. But what were you supposed to believe when someone like Mingyu showed so much interest in you? Yeah, sure, it made sense back in middle school when he was still an awkward preteen. Maybe even in high school when he was a bit of a try hard. But in college, where he was member of a frat and nothing short of a heartthrob, it just didn't make sense to you that he'd stick by you out of his own volition. And Wonwoo's words did nothing to help your pre-existing insecurities about it.

But maybe this was all in your head. It was just your best friends looking after you, right? You should've just appreciated the apology and moved on. Which you did, really. But you still couldn't help but wonder.

The rest of your conversation with Wonwoo went as you'd expect. You caught up with each other, just like you would've years ago. It felt nice. Comfortable. It was like falling, knowing there was someone there to catch you. It reminded you of how you'd felt with Mingyu for these past months since your arrival to college. But different. You loved your brother more than anything, but part of you couldn't help but keep the thought of Mingyu in the back of your head even as you were deep in conversation with your brother. Despite having missed him, you now missed Mingyu's presence, even if it was only for a mere moment. Part of you kind of hoped your brother would stay busy so you could keep Mingyu for yourself. You weren't sure what you were feeling. It was just a mixture of emotions jumbling up your stomach.

Your thoughts were then rudely interrupted by the entrance of a very wet Kim Mingyu, your conversation with Wonwoo halting simultaneously. It was like a scene out of a very shitty novel. The steam flowing behind him as he dapped at his hair with a small towel, a bigger one covering his nether region as he entered the room, top half wet and uncovered. This probed no reaction out of Wonwoo. And arguably, no reaction from you, as you immediately looked the other way as if you'd been burned.

"Oh, you're here? Shit, forgot we were supposed to meet an hour earlier, my bad," he responded as if he wasn't standing half naked in front of you. You still made it a point to not look into his eyes, simply squeaking out a short ''s fine' in return.

Wonwoo chuckled at your flustered state, "C'mon, you've seen him in more compromising positions. Remember when he came out of the pool sophomore year with his trousers all the way down? This is nothing. I see worse every day," Mingyu visibly winced at the memory, halting his actions for a second to throw a glare at Wonwoo.

You remembered, but that was pre-pubescent Mingyu!! He did not hold a candle to whoever was standing in front of you in this moment.

"Didn't account for seeing a naked Mingyu today or ever again, thank you! I'll wait outside. You're late, by the way," you bumped Mingyu jokingly before promptly exiting the room, hoping your act had been bought.

You kind of hated the idea of waiting in the common area of a fraternity, not because of the people, but more so the implications of it. Specially knowing your friend and brother would most likely talk about you behind the closed door, but it was either that or be confided in a room with Mingyu as he changed while your brother's presence loomed over you.

You waited in silence, leaning against a wall for a good minute until you were interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Hey! It's you again," it was Yoon Jeonghan, if you weren't mistaken. He was one of the guys you'd spoken to that first time you'd partied in the fraternity, before Mingyu found you and took you under his wing for the night. It was also one of the guys Mingyu had warned you not to speak to (and it had been a long list), citing that he was a 'menace' and he just didn't like the idea of you speaking to him. You'd liked him, though. Despite having only spoken to him for a few minutes that night, he seemed decent enough to hold a conversation with.

"Hi, Jeonghan."

"You remember my name? That's crazy. Must've left an impression on you, huh?"

"Shut up. There's only like twelve of you here, it's not that hard."

"Thirteen," he corrected before continuting, "Oof, you're on first name basis with thirteen guys? What will Mingyu say?", he snickered as he leaned against the wall next to you, shoulder to shoulder, but head facing you.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"C'mon, you're Mingyu's girl. You're off limits. Well, double off limits since you're Wonwoo's sister. If any of us comes near you, we're dead."

You still didn't really understand what he meant. Wonwoo never really cared who you dated. He even encouraged you, as any friend would. He never pulled the 'brother card', nor got in the way if you showed interest in one of his friends (which had happened before, circa the early 2010's when you'd crushed on his bio partner Johnny, but no one needs to know about that disaster). The mention of Mingyu's name made even less sense, seeing as you weren't related in any way. You were interested by the intel Jeonghan was giving you, though, so you decided to play along.

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, Gyu warned us all to stay away, said something about you being different from other girls at the frat. Was kinda a dick about it, to be honest," he trailed off.

"Then why are you talking to me?"

He snickered again, leaning closer to you, "I like to live on the edge."

That made you laugh, slapping his shoulder as you unintentionally decreased the distance even more. That's unfortunately when Mingyu finally walked through the door, smile fading at the picture of you and Jeonghan standing so close to each other while Jeonghan pulled laughter from you.

He cleared his throat, interrupting your laugh. "What are we laughing at, Jeonghan?", he gave a tight-lipped smile.

"You," he deadpanned. It was silent for a minute, sans your quiet snort at Mingyu's clear annoyance of the guy, "Well, I'm bored now, I'm gonna go. I'm sure I'll see you around," he winked at you as he clicked his tongue at Mingyu and made his exit, leaving behind a clearly peeved off Mingyu.

You both watched him leave before you turned to face your friend.

"Where's Wonwoo?", you broke the silence. It took him a second to reply, still glaring in the direction in which Jeonghan had left.

"Oh. He's got plans today. Shocking, I know. He's killing time til his meeting with the photography club."

"Ah. Okay .. Do you have your things?"

"What things?"

"The notes? That's kinda why I'm here ..."

"Shit, right. Yeah, I do. Sorry, Jeonghan threw me off," he paused, "What, uh, what were you guys talking about?"

"Oh, nothing. He was just keeping me company while we waited," why tell him what you know when Mingyu was seemingly keeping a few things from you himself, you thought.

"Okay, gotcha. Well, I guess we should go," and with that, you walked towards the exit, heading for Mingyu's bike to go to the spot Mingyu and you had been frequenting.

You studied for a while, attempting to stay focused on the notes Mingyu had been explaining to you. But you couldn't help but he distracted by what Wonwoo had told you, and then interrupting those thoughts by thinking of what Jeonghan had said. You wanted to be straight up and ask Mingyu his intentions with you; whether you were a friend or whether he was simply doing your brother a favour by staying by your side. There was no sensible way of doing it, though. At least not without sounding like a wounded little girl.

"Okay," he suddenly looked up from his book, interrupting the silence, "Something's clearly distracting you. Did Jeonghan say something? You can tell me, you know."

"What? No. He didn't say anything. It was .. it was Wonwoo, actually," you trailed off, not really meeting his eyes.

"Wonwoo?", this seemed to get his attention, as he sat up and broke the one sided eye contact he'd been trying to have with you, opting to look to your side instead, "What did he say?"

"It's just .. Mingyu. I need you to be honest with me, okay?"

He gulped, very uncharacteristic to his usually confident demeanor. You weren't sure why.

"Did Wonwoo put you up to this? He made it seem like maybe ... like maybe this was his idea? You asking me to hang out and stuff. Maybe out of, uh, pity?", you mustered out, feeling embarrassed at even vocalizing your insecurities about your relationship with the man sitting across from you.

He sighed in relief, very unlike the reaction you'd expected, "Oh, god. That? Baby, I already told you. Wonwoo has nothing to do with this. I mean, okay, yeah, he suggested I watch out for you, but that was well after I saw you at that party. It was his idea, except it was mine first. He didn't have to force any pity into me, because I wanted to stick to you even before I knew he'd been ghosting you too."

Oh. You had misunderstood. Again. First your brother and now Gyu. You should've known Mingyu was too nice of a guy to lie to your face like you'd assumed. He was also a terrible liar.

He took your silence as a cue to continue. 'I already told you, I won't ditch you, I even pinky promised! I'm your friend. I know we've only ever been friends while Wonwoo was there, but we can be friends without him, can't we? Now stop doubting my friendship! You're starting to make me feel bad', he pouted, scooting closer to you as you both sat on the grass.

You sighed, "You're right, Gyu. I'm sorry. I swear this will be the last time I let my irrational thoughts get the best of me, okay?"

"Good. Now pay attention, I didn't keep last year's homework hidden in my closet for a whole year for you not to use it."

You and Mingyu kept hanging out just like before, now with that cloud of doubt off your mind. Wonwoo would occasionally join you whenever he found time in his busy schedule, fulfilling the promise he had made you that day in his room. But despite that, it was still mostly just you and Mingyu, seeing as you'd grown closer in the past months.

Your relationship grew as the months passed, spending most of your time with one another. Mingyu always made it known through his actions how much he cared about you as a friend, always including you in outings, walking you to class, scaring off any guys who tried to talk to you, escorting you to parties as your date, helping you remove your makeup after a long night of drinking, holding your hand as he walked you home at night, occasionally staying over when tiredness won over the two of you. Just friend things, really. Except you weren't so sure anymore.

With the passing of time also came the evolution of your feelings. There was too much Mingyu in your life, you were beginning to go a little crazy. You hadn't realized how touchy Mingyu was until you had begun hanging out with him without your brother around. You weren't sure if this was normal. You'd never received such affection from any of your brother's other friends, nor did you ever notice Mingyu ever being this touchy with anyone else. Regardless of the reasoning, there was only so much more you could take before breaking. You'd begun to realize that maybe .. maybe this wasn't just a friendship. At least not to you. Maybe this was why you felt so insecure in the beginning, wondering why Mingyu showed interest in you. You were afraid that maybe, without realizing, you'd confused Mingyu's friendship for more, leading you to a fight within yourself about what it meant for you and Mingyu to become the dynamic duo you now were, growing a relationship outside of Wonwoo.

It didn't help that you hadn't met anyone since coming to university. You'd made friends, sure, but most of your time was (willingly) taken up by Mingyu, and maybe on occasion Wonwoo. Any boys who tried to approach you were swiftly warded off by a very tall and intimidating Mingyu. You were kind of well known at that point for being off limits. Lots of guys saw you as unapproachable, either out of respect for your brother, or out of fear of your best friend. You weren't sure why Mingyu had become even more protective than your brother. You had your hopes as to why, but you knew that this was a 10+ year old friendship you couldn't carelessly risk over some unfounded feelings you'd only recently began to discover. There were times you believed he'd hint at some feelings, but Mingyu was a bit of a wildcard. Having known him for so long, you'd seen him through all his relationships, just as he had seen you through yours. You knew how he behaved around someone he was romantically interested in, and you were sad to admit that no matter how affectionate he was towards you, you were not a prime example of it.

So you decided you'd keep your feelings at bay for now. If they were even those type of feelings in the first place. You'd never been in this situation before, neither had you ever liked Mingyu in this way since meeting him over ten years ago, so, once again, you found yourself feeling uncertain of your relationship with your best friend.

Today was yet again another party. This time your brother would finally be in attendance, having finally found some time off of his seemingly grueling schedule. It was Halloween, after all. You remembered all the years you'd spent Halloween with Wonwoo and Mingyu in the past, occasionally even matching costumes with one another. This year you'd decided to go your own ways and surprise each other with your costumes. The plan was for Mingyu to pick you up from your dorm and walk you to the frat (he insisted, citing that it was 'too late for a pretty girl to be walking around alone!'), which is where you'd meet up with Wonwoo. You'd gone in a different direction for your costume this year, opting for a new look. In past years you liked to either match with Wonwoo or dress up as your latest hyperfixation, but since you were now an adult in college (and you didn't need your parents' veto on your costume anymore ..), you went for something a little more provocative. It wasn't too out there, but it was more skin than you were used to showing. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you adjusted your wig a bit, fixing the red headband that held the look together. You thought maybe your dress might've been too short; slightly inaccurate to the original look, but you had to admit, you looked hot as shit! It'd be worth it if this was your slutty debut.

A knock suddenly interrupted your thoughts. And then another. And another. This was how you could usually tell it was Mingyu. The large man had a habit of being really loud without meaning to. You laughed to yourself at the cute habit and headed towards the door, excited to show him your costume and to take a look at his.

You opened the door, opening your mouth to greet him, only to be interrupted immediately by the sight in front of you. A very shirtless Mingyu. Well, a Mingyu in denim jeans and a matching denim vest. You weren't sure what he was supposed to be, but you didn't want to keep looking long enough to figure it out. For your own sanity.

He had been leaning against the door when you'd opened it, looking up as he spoke his first words to you, "Hey, baby. You ready to- Son of a bitch."

"What? You don't like it?", you pouted. Was it too much? He was literally shirtless, looking like a wet dr- okay, best to not finish that thought.

"What? No! You look gorgeous. Are you, uh, is it Betty Boop?"

"Mingyu! Do you not remember?! I showed you this movie! I'm Mima!! From Perfect Blue!", leave it to Mingyu to lose memory of a movie you'd just shown him a few weeks back.

"I'm sorry, baby, I remember. Just distracted by how pretty you look," he said as he smiled down at you, adorable canines in full view. Damn him. He was always showering you in compliments, not knowing their effect on you as of late.

"Shut up .. What are you even supposed to be? Wait, oh my god. Are you Ken?", jesus, what a cliche. You hadn't even connected the dots until now.

"Listen! I thought you'd be Barbie! Every girl wants to be Barbie. I was trying to be a step ahead of you so we could match! How was I supposed to know you were gonna dress as a character from an indie movie?"

"Aw. You wanted to match? You could've said something, Gyu."

The thought of Mingyu ordering a matching set of denim pants and denim vest at the thought of being the Ken to your Barbie made you coo, completely forcing yourself to ignore the shirtless aspect of his costume.

He tsked, still pouting, "Didn't want you to think I was lame ..." he mumbled, "We've also never matched without Wonwoo."

"I wouldn'tve thought that, Gyu. Want me to throw on a pink dress? We could make it work, I-"

"No!", he halted your speech, "Stay like this. You look insanely hot. Gonna have to keep guys off of you all night, but it'll be worth it. C'mon, baby, let's just go now," he said as he offered his arm for you to link yours with.

Keep guys off of you? Hot? He needed to stop saying these things. You were already feeling lightheaded at the thought of spending the entire night being guarded by an overprotective Mingyu, deluding yourself into thinking that it'd be because he wanted you all to himself.

You arrived to the party pretty quick, by now having already corrected three people on your costume on your walk there. Mingyu would laugh next to you every single time, mocking your costume choice and claiming that Barbie would've been a better option, because then you 'could've been such a hot power couple.'

You stuck around each other for most of your stay, only ever straying away from one another whenever Mingyu insisted on going to the kitchen to freshen up your drink, or when various Barbies would stop him to get a picture with him, using their costume as an excuse to get close to Mingyu. It peeved you off a bit, deflating your mood slightly more each time someone interrupted your conversation to drag Mingyu away. But Mingyu was a gentleman and a helpless people pleaser, so he would politely say yes and pose for a bit before moving on, only to eventually be interrupted again. You weren't sure if Mingyu took notice of your frustration, but if he did, he didn't show it. That kind of made you feel worse.

You'd caught up with your brother during Mingyu's short absences, who had just side-eyed you at your costume choice, calling you predictable. He'd dressed as Marty McFly, putting minimal effort into his costume in usual Wonwoo fashion.

"So."

"So?"

"I thought you were supposed to be Mingyu's date?", he asked, as if it was the most obvious thing.

"I am his date. Well, 'date,'" you air quoted, "I'm always his date to your frat's parties, you know that."

He shrugged, "I know, but he seemed excited to do couple's costume with you this year. I thought it was kinda silly, but he even got his costume tailored n everything," he said nonchalantly as he sipped his beer a bit.

"Oh. He didn't really tell me .. It's not like I'm his actual date anyways," and it wasn't like he really needed you when he had so many girls literally lining up for his attention.

"You could be."

"What do you mean?", you were confused by Wonwoo's sudden commentary on this, not even aware that he'd even thought about you and Gyu in that way.

"Just .. I mean, wouldn't be the worst thing in the world."

"Wonwoo, wh-"

"Sorry I took so long! Some other girl wanted a picture and she just wouldn't let me get away. Here, got your favorite," it was Mingyu with his impeccable timing, handing you a drink as he flashed you his classic boyish smile.

"Thank you," you were slightly deflated, wanting to continue your conversation with Wonwoo, and also annoyed at the thought of sharing Mingyu's time with yet another girl. When had you become so dependent on Mingyu's attention? And why was your mood souring so easily at the mere mention of other girls coming from his mouth?

Wonwoo promptly excused himself at the interruption, catching sight of another one of his frat brothers and joining him in whatever he was doing. Gyu bid Wonwoo a quick bye, instantly turning his attention right back to you.

"Having fun?"

"Sure, Gyu. You?"

"Just sure? What's wrong? Want me to get Wonwoo back?"

"No, Mingyu, it's fine. I was thinking about heading home, actually. It's getting kinda late."

"Oh? Okay, let me just let Wonwoo know and I'll go walk you back," he was halfway through turning to go find your brother.

"No, that's fine. You should stay!", you tried to sound as convincing as possible, knowing that sooner or later his attention would be dragged away from you again anyways.

"Stay? What happened to not ditching each other?", he chuckled, "Did you forget the pinky promise?"

You remembered, which is why you wondered why he'd been ditching you all night.

"C'mon, Gyu. Don't you wanna stay with one of the many pretty girls that have been wanting to talk to you all night? I don't wanna cockblock you ..." you felt a little sheepish at even the slight reference to sex, never having really touched the subject with Mingyu in all your years of friendship.

You knew you were being kind of unreasonable. Mingyu hadn't shown any direct interest in any of the girls, and he had clearly wanted to spend the night by your side, but your childish feelings were hurt by all the attention he had been giving other people, feeling like a spoiled little girl who demanded her mom's care at all times.

"You're the only pretty girl I wanna spend my time with," he gave you a sad smile.

He kept doing this. Throwing you a bone but doing nothing else. He'd say things that would have you planning your wedding if it'd been any other guy, constantly feeding you with pet names and endless compliments. Except that's where it always stopped. The only other indication you'd gotten so far about his words having a deeper meaning were the short conversations you had with Jeonghan and Wonwoo. Conversations which were both promptly interrupted by Mingyu, never to be brought up again.

"Gyu, I-"

"Excuse me. Could I get a picture with you? Haven't found any other Ken's around so far," the interruption was unsurprisingly provided by yet another girl in Barbie's classic pink plaid dress, shyly looking at Mingyu as she awaited his response.

You knew Mingyu was popular with girls, but today had kind of felt like a punch in the face.

He looked at her and then back at you. And then back at her and back at you again, clearly fighting the urge to be a gentleman and just do as the girl asked.

You gave them both a tight smile, "I'll see you tomorrow, Gyu," and with that, you began to walk away, feeling bad at the dramatics but knowing that you'd just get your feelings hurt if you saw Mingyu unknowingly flirt with yet another girl.

You didn't get very far, though.

"Hey, wait up!", it was Mingyu. Obviously.

"Gyu, it's fine, you shou-"

"I told you I wouldn't ditch you. Maybe you forgot about it, but I didn't. And this goes both ways. Okay. baby? Now let's go," he grabbed your hand and led you away, leaving behind a disgruntled Barbie who had just wanted a chance to talk to the pretty Ken.

You walked in silence most of the way home, not being really in the mood to say anything. Nor knowing what to say, kind of embarrassed by your futile attempts to ditch Mingyu, proving yourself to be kind of a hypocrite.

Before you realized, you were standing in front of your dorm. You turned around to give Mingyu a quick goodbye, not expecting much from him considering his silence during the walk home.

And then he hugged you. He held you close as he leaned down to your height and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, humming at the closeness between you. You held your arms out around him, not really hugging back at first due to the shock of the sudden action, but then proceeding to rib your arms up and down his back soothingly.

"Gyu ..."

"I'm sorry."

"What? Why are you sorry? I'm sorry," he unglued his head from your neck, now staring down at you with sad features on his face, arms still around your waist.

"You have nothing to be sorry about. I'm sorry I ditched you tonight. I didn't mean to. I guess it's hard for me to ignore all the attention sometimes. I made a promise but I kept breaking it tonight. Didn't mean to make you feel like I wasn't paying attention."

"No, Gyu. I'm just being sensitive, it's fine, really! You can be with other people, you shouldn't feel badly about it just because I'm acting like a child," you felt embarrassed admitting it out loud, but it was true, "I guess I got used to having Wonwoo's undivided attention growing up that I became a bit of a brat about it, hah ..."

"Baby, please stop talking about yourself like that before I get mad," he said, half joking, half serious. "I still made you upset, regardless of anything. I saw your face while you watched me be dragged away time after time, and I didn't like what I saw. I'm sorry. I won't ditch you again, I promise. I double promise. I'll be mean about it if I have to, okay?"

You chuckled at that. You couldn't possibly imagine a world where Mingyu would ever be mean. He was the nicest boy you'd ever known.

His reestablishment of the promise made you a bit sad. Knowing you were still stuck at a catch 22; break your friendship if you confessed, or live with Mingyu as close as possible without ever being able to actually have him. But you'd take whatever you could get, wanting Mingyu in your life no matter what.

He'd once again kept his promise. Somehow, by some act of god, becoming even more attentive to you. It made you happy and sad. You were practically in a relationship with Mingyu at this point, except he was the only one who didn't know about it. His frat brothers would joke about it, mocking you by calling you 'baby' whenever Mingyu wasn't around to make fun of the nickname that by now seemed to be your legal name. Even Wonwoo would give you looks whenever he saw the way in which Mingyu would physically stick to you through the night every time you hung out around him.

Mingyu had also made it a point to not entertain any girl - at least while you were around. Any time a girl would come up to him, he'd hold a short interaction and call it a day, instantly turning back around to you. It was funny, really, the way in which they'd give you a dirty look behind his back before promptly accepting their fate and walking away.

At this point your life had become a blur of school, parties, and Mingyu. Every other week you'd be in attendance to a party - or sometimes simply a small gathering between close friends - at Wonwoo and Mingyu's frat. During other days of the week you'd still find yourself there due to assignments you needed help with, or simply to see your brother. More often than not, however, you'd find yourself there to see Mingyu. You were enjoying college life thus far, having forgotten all your worries from your initial arrival a few months back. Mingyu's constant presence (plus yours and Wonwoo's reconciliation) had taken away any of the fears you'd had. Once more, you had befriended Wonwoo's friends, always feeling welcome at the frat and even hanging out with a few members while on your way to and from class.

Now, you were once again at the frat, waiting for Mingyu to get home from class. Jeonghan and Seungcheol put it upon themselves to entertain you until his arrival, teasing you over being Mingyu's unofficial girlfriend as they usually did. You never took it seriously. I mean, yeah you were still in the same place with Mingyu (re: hopelessly in love), and your feelings had only gotten worse with the passing of time, but you also knew what boys were like, having been subjected to their company since you were a little kid.

"Hey babyyy. Looking for Mingyu?"

"Jeonghan, stop fucking calling me that."

He gasps, you roll your eyes, "Is that not your name??"

"Anyways, is he not back yet? Need him back so we can prep the drinks for tonight," now was Cheol's turn to speak.

"He should be back from class already. He told me to just get ready here."

"Here? You're not even allowed here!", you knew Jeonghan was kidding, but it was kinda true. It was an unspoken rule in the frat that the boys couldn't have girls overnight. It was originally set up to prevent partygoers who didn't live there from taking their rooms for hookups. Even as Wonwoo's sister, you weren't an exception.

"I'm not staying. Just for the party. Anyways, I'm just gonna go look for him, I know when his class is. Cheol, please keep him away from me next time I'm here. Bye!"

They both chuckled, bidding their goodbyes and see you laters to you as you headed to the door, still feeling a bit awkward at being the only girl hanging around at the frat before the usual weekly party began; even if you were close friends with the guys. Over time you'd noticed how some of the girls you'd frequently see at the parties would look at you, knowing they probably had less than favorable opinions about you. It's not like you were keeping the pretty frat boys away from them, you were just used to this lifestyle, you always stuck by your brother and his various friend groups through the years, and this was not the exception.

Many even seemed to assume you were dating Mingyu, which you did not blame them for, considering how much time you spent together. A grand majority of them would act bitchy towards you, flirting with him right in front of you even under the belief that he was taken. Mingyu would usually subtly shut them down and lead them away somehow. You were afraid for the moment in which he snapped out of his seemingly self-imposed celibacy and drop you for some girl. You knew it would come eventually, but you still had some unfounded hope that maybe that girl would be you.

After having waited for Mingyu at the frat to no avail, you had decided to go search for him at his classroom, thinking he might've stayed a little extra time for some reason. Except you didn't find him there either. You eventually decided to text him, only to get no response. This was quite out of character of him, with him being the one to usually seek you out through text. Calls were also left unanswered, making you think that maybe an emergency came up or that he might've forgotten he had asked you to meet. This was also very uncharacteristic of him. You decided to, for once, not let your thoughts run amok and simply let it go. You had already pushed your insecurities onto Mingyu enough times. Instead, you headed home, head down at the thought of Mingyu forgetting about your meeting, but still planning to get ready to go see him at the party.

Your apparel was nothing too out of the ordinary. You had started dressing a little more maturely after that first attempt at the Halloween party, having enjoyed the reaction your costume had gotten out of Mingyu. Ever since then, you had begun to introduce shorter skirts and lower cut tops into your attire, although still keeping your general style and aesthetic pretty much the same. You felt kind of silly dressing up more just because of Mingyu's reaction that one time, but you could've sworn that he'd become even more protective since you started dressing like that, which you was something you shamelessly enjoyed.

With that, you left your dorm, wanting to catch up with Mingyu after having not seen him all day, something that was extremely out of the ordinary for the two of you. He had been very adamant about you not ditching each other, after all.

You arrived promptly to the party, which had already started and was buzzing as per usual. You walked by a few friends from class, making sure to stop by and say hi to them, along with to a few members of the frat. The one person you hadn't seen thus far had been Mingyu. You even found your brother hanging out with his frat brothers Vernon and Seungkwan, hanging back while they prepared a table for some beer pong. They'd invited you to join in, but you felt uneasy at Mingyu's absence, so you declined and kept walking, hoping to find him. You eventually bumped into Seungcheol. He had mentioned that he needed Mingyu to help him restock drinks before the party, so you asked him if he knew about his whereabouts.

"Oh, yeah. He came back a little after you left. He helped me out but said he had to leave right away. Had to meet with someone or something."

Oh. So had it been just you then?

"Do you know who?"

"Hmm, no, he didn't say. He got a call before he left. It sounded like a girl ..." he shot you an awkward smile at the mention of a girl.

Jesus, did everyone know you had a crush on Mingyu?

"Okay, thanks Cheol. I'll see you later," and with a quick side-hug you left, attempting once more to find your friend.

Was he ignoring your calls? Clearly he had his phone if he picked up someone else's call. Why hadn't he let you know he couldn't meet up anymore? Why'd he even let you come to a party you'd agreed to attend together if he was gonna ditch you? Why was he meeting up with another girl if he was supposed to be your date tonight? This was very unlike him, but it still hurt nonetheless.

You decided to walk the place, still looking for him but also pondering about maybe going home. You knew your feelings shouldn't be hurt over this, but to be fair, Mingyu had unintentionally conditioned you to expect his presence. And knowing that he was blatantly ignoring any form of contact you'd tried to make with him made you feel like a idiot. So you left. The frat was still on campus, so walking yourself to your dorm wouldn't take too long, even if you were used to rides from Mingyu's bike or the occasional piggy back ride he'd give you when you grew too tired of the walk.

You were on one of the top floors when you made your decision to leave, having walked the entire place in search of Mingyu. It made you feel like an idiot now, dressing up for him and chasing after him all day all while he was just carelessly ignoring you. You walked the way back, passing by each of the frat member's designated rooms. Even by Mingyu's too.

Mingyu's timing had always proved to be really inopportune. He'd constantly walk in when you were in the middle of conversation, or knock on your door before you were finished getting ready. Today, however, he had taken the cake.

Just as you were about to walk by his and Wonwoo's room came out a distracted Mingyu, clearly the middle of conversation with whoever was also on their way to exit the room. One moment later you saw who it was. She looked familiar, you thought. Might've been one of the many girls who'd competed for Mingyu's attention at these parties. It didn't really matter to you at that moment. She was walking out of Mingyu's room with him. Girls weren't supposed to be allowed in their rooms after a certain time. Was she the exception to the rule? You watched as she and Mingyu held friendly conversation, with her giving him a kiss on the cheek and a smile as she made her exit. Gyu didn't seem fazed by this. Almost as if it were a daily occurrence. Was it a daily occurrence? Had you just been an idiot chasing after him, hoping he'd maybe look at you differently one of these days?

You felt your emotions take over you. The mere sight of a girl coming out of Mingyu's room late into the night, at an area where partygoers weren't allowed, made your vision blurry with tears. All unfounded hopes you'd had about a future between you and Mingyu were immediately crushed. He didn't like you back. You knew it already, but the confirmation was just a punch in the face. He had been ignoring your calls all day in favour of a girl. One of the many girls he reassured you meant nothing to him, because he'd wanted to give all his attention to you, his best friend.

You could've sworn you stood there watching the short interaction for hours. Time had frozen for you. But not for anyone else. And surely not for Mingyu, who turned around and immediately spotted you after having bid his goodbye to the girl. Your emotions must've been clear on your face, since Mingyu's previous wolfish smile suddenly dropped into a look of worry. It seemed like time had now frozen for him, as his movements halted and his reaction left him.

There was a distance between you, and to find the exit you'd have to pass by Mingyu in order to leave. You took advantage of his shock at your unexpected presence and walked past him, walking as fast as you could in order to not make a scene. Except you didn't get far.

"W-wait!", he managed to grab your arm before you left, softly tugging you in order to stop your movements, but it was futile. Your movements may have stopped but you refused to meet his eye, instead opting for looking down at your feet as you sniffled, feeling embarrassed at how easily you'd started crying.

"Baby, look at me," but you still refused, "Whatever it is that you're thinking didn't happen."

But you didn't respond, frog in your throat and unable to speak, knowing you'd start crying if you did.

"I-it's not what you think, please, I-"

"If you wanted time to .. if you wanted to be alone with .. her, you could've told me," you finally replied, sniffling and gasping all throughout.

"I didn't! I wanted to be with you!"

"I called you and called you and got no response. You didn't show up either. You- God, I don't ... I don't even know why I'm crying,' you took a shaky breath, 'We're not ... It's not like you and I-"

"Don't say that. I'd never even look at another girl like that ... It's just you and me, you know that."

"Mingyu ..." you continued to look down, not wanting to look at him and trigger even more crying.

"Let me explain, okay? But look at me, yeah? Can't stand you not looking at me, baby," he grabbed your chin, urging you to look up, directing your face towards his in order to look down directly into your eyes, "That's it, pretty. Now don't cry. Hate it when you cry."

"I don't know her very well," he begun, "We partnered up for class today and accidentally switched phones. I didn't realize until I was on my way to see you, which is when she called her own phone and asked me to meet. We kept missing each other, so I told her to meet me here so I could give her her phone back. I'd left it charging in my room before helping Cheol. You weren't here when I came back, so I thought I'd just see you later and explain. I didn't mean for you to see that .. There was- there was nothing. Nothing happened, okay, baby? Nothing."

"But the kiss ...?"

"Girls just do that sometimes, baby, I'm sorry. I'll wipe my cheek clean if you want me to, yeah?", he smiled down at you, wiping at your tears.

You felt even like an even bigger idiot now. An innocent interaction and you were pulling all the dramatics, sobbing into the arms of the boy you so desperately wanted. The thought made you even more emotional. How could you ever exist around Mingyu like this?

You unstuck yourself from his hold, feeling sick at yourself, "Gyu, I ..." you cut yourself off with a pathetic gasp, sniffling to prevent snot from falling from your nose.

He quickly held onto you again, "Hmm. Yeah, pretty? Tell me. Still gonna cry over me? You have nothing to cry about, baby, I told you. I'm right here. Never leaving, like I promised. Remember?"

The way he smiled down at you was one you'd never seen from him before. You were beyond embarrassed, but he continued to soothe you, giving you words of affirmation coated with a deeper meaning.

"Mingyu ..?"

You weren't sure what you wanted to say, still sniffling, although a bit more calm due to the comfort the boy gave you.

"What is it, baby? Want me to say it first? I will. I'll tell you. I'll show you. Just .. just wanna savour the moment for a little longer. Is that bad? Love how you worry about me. Just wanna .. wanna enjoy it," he continued to stare into your eyes, hand on your chin, lifting your face closer to his.

There was something unspoken about the way he was speaking to you; the words he was saying. Almost like a confession but not quite. The gap between friends and a little more; not quite lovers.

Both your eyes became lazy, lowering to each other's lips, breaths becoming heavier as Mingyu began to close the distance. It all felt so heavy, and so slow, like a pin could drop and you'd be alarmed by the noise. All your senses were preparing you for a tidal wave. Until it finally came.

"Love you. So much. So fucking much, pretty. You have no idea. Would never hurt you, ever", and with that, he pressed his lips to yours, humming quietly against your mouth. He pulled away soon after. Too soon for your comfort.

"l-love you, Gyu, I ..."

It felt like a huge weight off your shoulders, finally being able to say the three words, albeit mumbled against his lips.

"Loved you always," he interrupted, "Been in love with you ever since I can remember. My pretty girl. You were always meant to be mine. Always wanted to keep you safe, take care of you. Was just waiting for you ..." he said all this as he breathed into your mouth, breath getting heavier by the minute, your mind becoming foggy as you let yourself lean against him.

"Will you let me show you? Show you how bad I love you?"

You nodded desperately, whispering 'Yes' into his lips as he closed the gap again, kissing you with far more strength than the first time.

This was the kiss to beat all kisses. The way he planted his palms on your back, allowing you to lean pliant against his hold. The way he tilted his head slightly to the side to kiss you deeper. The way he sighed against your lips, as if he was finally able to breathe. The way his tongue eased your mouth open, dancing with your own in perfect coordination. The way he hummed against you, close to moaning in pleasure but holding back as a friend would.

The kiss was agony, or at least that's what any spectator would think, if they were to see the way both you and Mingyu furrow your eyebrows as if this was your very last breath and you needed to savior it with everything in you. He held you against him with gentle hands, while yours grabbed onto him as if he was your lifeline, yet you were both equally desperate while kissing one another. The buildup of your feelings took over, increasing the intensity of the kiss immediately. At some point you were both too out of breath, but unable to pull away, simply breathing against each other as you attempted to keep your lips glued.

He finally pulled away, breath heavy as he tried to bring himself back to earth.

"Baby .. Let me .. Let me take you to my room? Is it too soon? Just- Been waiting so long. Love you so much. Wanna show you. Can I?", he gently ran his hands up and down your back as he rambled, eyes crazy as they alternated between your lips and your eyes, unable to focus.

You hesitated. You weren't sure why. You'd wanted him so badly for so long, but now it felt way too real. Your desire for him had you so dizzy you could not think, rendering you a shell of yourself as your heavy gaze stared back at him, no thoughts in mind. Your mind a constant loop of Mingyu Mingyu Mingyu.

"I-It's okay, baby. I don't, don't wanna pressure you ..." he seemed flustered by your lack of answer.

Shit.

No. It'd been enough times of you making him do all the work. So instead of responding, you leaned up and pulled his head back down to your level, kissing him with all your might. You used all the strength you could muster and pushed him against the wall. He let out a surprised noise, but let his body become pliant to your touches, allowing you to press him to the wall and simply following along, seemingly content with whatever you gave him.

You kissed for a bit more, airing out all your emotions against each other's lips. The kiss had quickly become nasty and wet, almost in an animalistic way. Mingyu had also begun to become more daring with his touches, lowering his arms to the small of your waist, pressing your body up against his, letting you feel all of him.

You grew frustrated soon after, or maybe he did, you weren't too sure. But it was only a few moments later that you ended up crashing through his bedroom door, Mingyu quickly locking it behind you without daring to unlock your lips. This time he pushed you against the wall, caging you in with his large body. He pressed himself up against you as close as physically possible, beginning to drag his pelvis against yours. The feeling of his hardness grinding against you made all the air leave your head, rendering you breathless.

"G-gyu ..." you gasped against his mouth, hands going crazy as they scratched against his clothed chest and shoulders.

"I know, baby. So pretty. Just let me take care of you, yeah?", he lifted your arms from his chest, pinning them above you as he ground his hips with even more fervor, making you whine against his lips at the pressure against your crotch.

He ground against you like this for a while, enjoying the mewls of pleasure you let out against his lips. He took advantage of your open mouth against his lips to slip his tongue inside once more, licking into your mouth as he ground against you. Eventually he took control of the kiss, letting go one of your hands and angling your head so he could lick deeper into your mouth. Your eyes rolled back, both at the way he so expertly played with your tongue and at the slow pace he had while grinding what you could only assume to be a massive length hidden under his pants.

"Gyu ..." his name seemed to be the only word you were able to utter in your mindless state, "More. Please, want more ..."

"Anything you want, pretty," he reluctantly unglued himself from you, gently holding your hand to guide you to his bed before sitting you down at the edge of it.

"Wait."

"Hmm? What's wrong, baby?"

"I, uh, I thought you weren't allowed girls in here at this time ..." even in your dazy state, you remembered the rules of the frat, fearing that an annoyed Seungcheol or Seungkwan might come interrupt you and force you out.

"Shh, don't mind that. Won't let anyone take you away from me, yeah baby? Will even kick Wonwoo out for the night. It's just you and me, okay?", he leaned down to peck your lips, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs.

"You'll let me take care of you now, right baby? Gonna let me show you how much I love you?", he leaned you back on the bed as he said this, climbing over you in order to pin you down.

Your breath began to get heavy again, nodding numbly at his questions as you let your body become weightless; allowing him to do with it as he pleased.

You'd assumed he'd be gentle, - in a similar fashion to his words - but the moment your lips connected once again it was like someone else took over. Some animalistic sense within possessed him as he, for lack of a better word, devoured you. His hips were merciless as he began to rut them against yours once more. His lips trapped yours, taking full control of the kiss. His hands finally found the courage to explore your body, running his hands up and down your legs, taking advantage of the way your short skirt had ridden up. He moaned against your lips at the feeling of your pretty form under his, cursing under his breath when you decided to guide his hands to your breasts, desperate to feel his touch in more sensitive areas of your body.

He untangled his tongue from yours momentarily, looking into your eyes. He furrowed his brows while looking down at you, then lowering his eyes look at your clothed tits, which were currently being held hostage by his large palms.

"Baby ... Can I?"

You bit your lip and nodded up at him.

That was all confirmation he needed before literally ripping your dress off your body. The dress itself might've actually torn in the process, you weren't sure. That didn't matter as soon as Mingyu finally took a look at your naked form, having expertly removed your bra as soon as he'd removed your dress. He let out a groan deep from his chest, physically salivating at your bare chest, hips only covered by a very thin pair of panties, now finally being able to see the entirety of your bare body under his hands.

"Baby ... So fucking beautiful, Jesus Christ. Been hiding this pretty body from me, haven't you?"

"Been dreaming about you for so long, fuck. So beautiful .."

"Look at you, so soft and pretty. And all for me, right baby? Gonna let me play with this pretty body, huh?"

"Wanna remember this. Fuck, can't stop looking at you. Wanna feel all of you. Wanna memorize your body."

In usual Mingyu fashion, his endless praise to you manifested itself even in this scenario, affecting you more than ever. His praise was accompanied by his fondling of your body, running his hands over every curve in your body, occasionally stopping to rub at your nipples as you arched your back at the delicious stimulation.

You could tell he loved the effect he had on you, as he dragged on and on, pulling cries and mewls out of you as he felt you up. Eventually he seemed to grow too desperate for more, getting on his knees at the foot of the bed and dragging your body towards him by your thighs, treating you like a weightless rag doll.

He kissed up and down your thighs, looking up at you through his lashes, meeting your heavy gaze as you waited for him to near the place where you needed him most. He eventually dragged down your panties, slow in his movements as he held them up to his face, breathing in your scent. You gasped at this, having never seen anyone do such a depraved act.

"Gyu ..."

"God, fuck. Even smell so good. Gonna taste so delicious, aren't you baby?"

"Please, Gyu, just .. Ah! Fuck!"

He dove right in, immediately licking and sucking at you, not wanting to waste a single drop. It was animalistic, the way he ate at you. He groaned and moaned against your cunt, forcing you as close as possible to him by holding onto your hips, encouraging you to grind against his face, practically riding his face.

"Just like that, baby. Drag that pretty pussy on my tongue. Gunna eat you up, pretty. Such a tasty pussy, shit."

It didn't take long for him to make you cum. All the months waiting for him, the merciless way in which he had you against the wall dragging his length against you, the way he undressed and caressed you (re: felt you up), the way he praised you all throughout. It all piled up inside you and made you reach the most mind-numbing orgasm you'd ever felt. You felt tears streaming down your face as you screamed his name, instantly falling on your back against the bed all while Mingyu continued to lick at you even in your sensitive state. But you couldn't bring yourself to stop him, growing drunk at the pleasurable pain you felt as be lightly caressed your clit with his tongue.

"Not done, baby. Wan' you again. Be good, yeah? Lemme have you again," his adorable lisp had become even more prominent, leaving him almost slurring through his speech likely due to the pussydrunkness he was feeling.

He promptly flipped you around, placing you on your hands and knees above the bed. He knelt behind you, once more feeling up and down your body, kneading at your ass as you arched your back. You'd expected him to finally fuck you, only to feel his tongue right back on your cunt.

You arched your back even more, mewling out his name once again as he licked at your clit, teasing it by lightly nibbling at it. Everything he did had you crying, delirious on the pleasure he was giving you. The moans of his own pleasure didn't help, nor did the sound of the bed squeaking as he ground his dick against it for relief.

This time you didn't meet your end, instead being flipped around once more and facing the man of your dreams. His face was dripping with your juices, hair a mess from all the pulling you'd done. You'd never seen a more beautiful sight. You reached up to him, feeling up and down his chest before pulling him down to you, smashing your lips to him as you desperately licked into his mouth. You tasted yourself on him, making him moan at the desperate speed of your tongue.

"Taste so good, don't you baby? Fuck, gonna eat you every day now. You're all for me," he groaned against your lips, lifting himself up a bit to finally remove his clothes.

You practically salivated at the sight. You'd seen him naked before, on a few accidental occasions. But seeing him now, sweaty from all the exertion and so close to you, gigantic chest and arms on full display .. It made you breathless. You felt him up, running your hands up and down his chest, wanting to commit it all to memory. He chuckled at your reaction, mumbling a small 'cute' before getting back to business.

Nothing could've prepared you for the moment he finally entered you. The stretch was like no other pleasure you'd ever felt before. It seemed to be the same case for him, as his voice grew in pitch the moment you first tightened up around him.

"Fuck! Baby, don't do that ... Wanna last, fuck."

"Gyu, you're so fucking big. Shit ..."

"Yeah, baby? Gonna split you open. Gonna mold your pussy so you can take me every day. Want that, don't you baby? Wanna keep me warm every morning?"

His words had you once again tightening, causing him the force behind his thrusts to increase, leading to a vicious cycle of pleasuring one another.

The way he moved his hips against you was purely animalistic. The drag of his hips made you fully delirious, his speed superhuman and the strength just enough to have you feeling pleasurable type of pain. He knew what he was doing, angling himself at that spot that had you crying into his neck.

"Right there! Fuck, Gyu, please! There .. There!"

He made it a point to angle himself even deeper, making you feel the delicious drag of his length in the spot where you needed him most. Sensing your orgasm nearing caused Mingyu to bring his thumb down to your swollen clit, rubbing it softly, at a such a slow speed that had you writhing against him, breathlessly whining for more.

He pulled at all stops to drag the most intense orgasm out of you. He repeatedly canted his hips against yours, hitting your g spot continuously. He played with your clit and even leaned down to lick at your tits, stimulating you from every sensitive part of your body in order to drag yet another orgasm out of you.

Your orgasm came soon after, triggering his in return. You screamed out his name, dragging your nails down his back while he fucked you through your high, whispering filthy expletives about how good you felt against your ear. He pulled out before spilling his seed inside you, choosing instead to cum all over your stomach, groaning at the filthy image of you coated in his cum.

You fell limp after that, losing all air in your head and being rendered breathless. You're not sure how long you laid there for, no thought in mind, seeing as the next time you opened your eyes you had already been cleaned up and placed under the sheets. From your spot on the bed you could see a very naked Mingyu walk towards you before slipping under the covers with you, instantly seeking your touch as he held you in his arms.

He spoke up first, "Sorry if that was too much .. Wanted to make love to you, but I guess I got over excited," he chuckled.

"It was perfect, Gyu. You were so sweet, like you always are," you kissed his chest as you said this, all while he gently ran his hands up and down your back, "Love you, Gyu. Sorry I didn't say it properly earlier."

"Love you more."

"You don't have to be competitive about it! But that's not true, by the way," you'd been going insane at your feelings for him for these past new months, there was no way he could win this one.

"Are you sure about that?", he snickered, as if he had some intel you didn't.

"What are you even talking about, Gyu?"

"I've loved you for longer, that's all I'm saying," he started leaving soft pecks on your chest, giggling at his own words.

"Nuh huh!"

"Yuh huh! I've liked you since senior year! You didn't even look my way at the time."

'Senior year? We barely saw each other that year. You and Wonwoo kept leaving me for senior stuff.'

"You know what they say. Distance makes the heart grow fonder. Something like that. Anyways, I've held a candle for you for years. You made me wait all these years. I love you more."

"Wait. You liked me all this time?!", you sat up despite his whine in complaint, "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Baby, I already told you. You didn't like me back. We'd never been around each other without Wonwoo by then. Didn't wanna fuck up our friendship, or make Wonwoo uncomfortable. Now get back here," he dragged you back down to his chest.

"But ..."

"Shhh, it doesn't matter anymore. I waited and now you're mine."

You didn't speak much after that, allowing yourselves to bask in each other's company, holding each other to sleep like you'd always wanted to do. You wanted to ponder on what Mingyu had said; that he'd liked you this whole time. You wanted to think back to moments that could've revealed Mingyu's feelings to you, but Mingyu was right. It didn't matter anymore, because you were now finally his.

You woke up the next morning to loud knocks, startling you from your comfortable slumber. By now, you and Mingyu were a tangled mess of limbs, with no space separating your bodies. You felt warmth and comfort you had never felt before, being pressed up, skin-to-skin.

The knocks hadn't awoken Mingyu, who you'd always known to be a heavy sleeper. You were only half awake yourself, so in your senseless sleepy state, you decided to untangle yourself from Mingyu and go check the door. You threw on Mingyu's button up from last night along with some boxers and headed to the door, only opening it a tiny bit to peek at who was knocking.

In retrospect, you should've known who you'd find on the other side of it, seeing as he did live here. But fortunately, even in your sleepy state you were dressed enough to not traumatize either of you.

"Wow. You're so predictable," it was your brother, wearing the same clothes you'd seen him in last night, taking notice of your current state.

"If you knew I was here, why come?"

"Wanted to confirm. Also, you kept me out all night. Didn't wanna risk unlocking the door and finding something that'd scar me for life."

"Wait. How'd you even know I'd be in here with Mingyu?", you had never mentioned your feelings to your brother. He had alluded to something between you and Mingyu once, but since it was never brought up again, so you assumed it must've just been a fluke.

"I knew the dam would break eventually. Mingyu's not much of a patient guy," he chuckled.

"Gyu? You knew he liked me?!"

"Of course I did. I knew about the both of you. Took you guys too long, to be honest. Watching you both go crazy over it was kinda funny, though," he chuckled to himself again, "Anyways, can you move? I have class in an hour."

"Dick', you mumbled 'And, uh, you can't come in. Gyu's kinda ..."

"Don't finish that sentence. Don't need to know more details. Jesus, was all night not enough?", he paused, shaking his head, "Never mind, don't answer that either. I'm just gonna borrow Cheol's shit. Just leave before you get caught here after hours," and with that he left, allowing you to close the gap on the door as you turned back to face a still-asleep Mingyu.

You laid back down with him, attempting to sneak your way back into his arms, only to finally awake him in the process.

"Mmm, baby?", he mumbled, seeking even more closeness go you, "Was someone at the door?"

"Just Wonwoo. Go back to sleep, Gyu."

"Nonu? What'd he say?"

"Called me a dumbass and told me to get out," you pouted at him.

He chuckled at this, but immediately whining right after, "Nooo, gotta keep you here, remember? Can't let you go anymore. He'll understand, don't worry. You'll just be our roommie."

"Am I moving in now, then?", you giggled against him.

"Yeah, baby. Gonna be us three again, yeah?"

"Yeah," you hummed, happy to have finally bagged your best friend, and knowing your brother would be nothing but supportive about it. After all, you had a tendency of sticking by him. Nothing had changed after all.

a/n: i honestly had no idea how to finish this T-T i hope u enjoyed reading though <3 i proofread most of it but there might still be some mistakes hehe sorry </3

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #seventeen #svt fanfic #svt #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #mingyu smut #mingyu fanfic #mingyu x reader #mingyu fic #mingyu imagine #mingyu fluff

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bbydoll18xx · 3 months

Text

I Can Do It With a Broken Heart

Paige Bueckers x reader

KK tries to set you up on live, and things between you and Paige go south.

Word Count: 1.7k

Themes: angst, maybe some fluff?

This is heavily inspired by my love life, so yes, please feel free to feel bad for me thanks xoxo

“And oh, my god, he was so fucking stupid,” you exclaim exasperatedly, your longwinded rant having no ending in sight. “Like you’re literally in college and you can’t even hold a basic conversation? And don’t even get me started on his fucking mustache,” you add, gagging dramatically for good measure.

Hands were flying in the air as you spoke, and the girls of UCONN’s women’s basketball team listened amusedly as you complained about your latest failure of a date. You had promised yourself you’d get back out into the dating world after your two year relationship with your high school sweetheart had ended, but that was nearly three years ago. And now that you had gone through every stage of grief and were now (mostly) mentally stable again, you had begun dating to find ‘the one.’

However ‘the one’ seemed to be hiding among the frat boys and useless idiots you had been spending your friday and saturday nights with for the last six months. And you were quickly growing tired of their bullshit.

“And then,” you dragged out the word theatrically, leaning forward to the group of girls listening, “he told me he wanted to do a line of cocaine off my ass! Like who even says that?”

The girls erupt in a fit of giggles and gasps, disturbed by your most recent date.

You shake your head in mild embarrassment and place your head in your hands. “I can’t do this anymore,” you sigh, trying to avoid Paige’s stare.

She was always staring, as if she could tell what you were thinking. And to be honest, it freaked you out because if she actually knew what you were thinking, you’d be in some deep shit.

You had feelings for Paige from the first day you had met her, and the battle was certainly an uphill one at that. A little voice in your head whispered mockingly that the reason you had been going on all these dates was to distract yourself from the harsh reality that Paige was just a friend. Nothing more, nothing less.

And it really fucking stung.

KK cuts through the silence, placing a soothing hand on your back. “I know what to do,” she says with a knowing smile. You meet her smirk with a confused look, wondering what the younger girl had in mind. “Let’s go on live and find you a boo!” she exclaims, clapping her hands together.

The other girls erupt in laughter at the idea, nodding their heads in agreement. The only one who is uncharacteristically quiet is Paige, who has a funny look on her face. Her nose scrunches slightly, and because you had spent years memorizing every part of Paige, including her moods and facial expressions, you would almost say she looked pissed.

Glancing back over to KK, you let out another long sigh, throwing your hands in the air defeatedly. “Sure, why the hell not?”

She whoops excitedly, grabbing her phone and propping it up on the table in front of where the two of you were sitting. She clicks on the live, and it was not long before hundreds of people were flooding in with comments.

“Hey, y’all!” KK greets the fans with a small wave and a huge grin. You try to hold back a grin of your own, but her excitement was infectious, and you felt grateful that your friends cared about fixing your sham of a love life.

“We’ve got a special guest tonight,” KK explains, and you wave shyly at the camera. You typically did not love all the attention, and you tended to stay in the background when the other girls would go live.

“Okay, so boom, we are looking for a date for my girl over here,” KK begins, explaining the situation to the people on the live. “Serious inquiries only!” She adds, wagging a finger towards the camera. “She is precious, and some of y’all are straight up freaks.”

You giggle at her words, trying to read the comments. Many of them we’re trying to gauge your sexuality, and upon reading another ‘is she gay’ comment, you decide to clarify.

“I’m bisexual,” you murmur shyly. It had been nearly 6 years since you had realized you like girls, yet you still struggled with enunciating the fact.

“Oh girl, they love you,” KK sings, patting herself on the back for her idea. “How about if y’all have some talent, join the live and woo my girl.”

Paige has since moved from her chair opposite you to sit next to you on the couch. Her leg is pressed up against yours, the warmth of her body radiating onto yours, and you bite your lip.

“Yeah, yeah Paige is here. This ain’t about blondie today,” KK scolds the fans. “Now I want to see some good talent.”

You turn your head to look at Paige, and she rolls her eyes at KK. “KK, don’t be mean to them,” she laughs, waving to the live.

In your head you’re thinking that you honestly can’t even blame the fans. Paige was hot. You wanted to see her too.

KK lets in the first girl, who upon seeing Paige, shrieks and throws her phone onto the carpet of her bedroom. You laugh, and KK lets out a huff of annoyance, deleting her immediately and moves on to find another person.

“This one seems promising,” she mutters, and you play with a piece of hair nervously. Being in front of the camera felt ridiculous, and you wonder how you got yourself into this situation. You are quickly pulled out of your thoughts by another young girl, desperately trying to serenade you and the other girls with a song. You try your best to avoid cringing, but the performance left you with bad secondhand embarrassment.

A whole twenty minutes pass before someone promising pops up on the screen. A girl about your age with long dark hair and piercing green eyes is waving flirtatiously at the screen, causing you to sit up a little straighter. Next to you, Paige stiffens, and your eyes flit to her on KK’s phone, jaw clenched in a way that has your stomach rolling. You look down and notice her hand was closed in a fist, the other picking at a piece of lint on the couch.

You avert your eyes back to the girl who was still smiling widely, and you make casual smalltalk with her, feeling warm from the attention of a pretty girl.

Comments are flooding in, and while you’re glad to see that many of them are about what a cute couple you and the mystery girl would make, you also notice an influx in comments regarding how mad Paige looked.

Before you could look over to check on her, she was flying off the couch and stomping out of the room. You hear her door close loudly, and you meet KK’s eye with a confused look. Paige’s departure has the fans going wild, and you whisper to the younger girl that she should end the live.

“Okay, y’all, we gotta go. Feel free to DM her, though,” KK tells the dark-haired girl with a devilish grin, and she signs off quickly.

“What the fuck was all that about?” you ask no one in particular, eliciting shrugs from Aubrey, Ice, and Jana.

“She’s been moody all day,” Aubrey says casually, and you pout, thinking about your best friend who was clearly unhappy about something.

“I’ll go check on her,” you mutter, heading towards the closed door of Paige’s bedroom. Standing in front of it, you take a deep breath before knocking.

“Come in,” you hear her mutter, and you enter the dark room, the only light shining from the tv and reflecting off the glassiness of Paige’s eyes.

You sit on her bed next to her, placing a comforting hand on her thigh. “What’s wrong?” you ask gently, not wanting to spook her. She rarely opened up about the way she was feeling, and you did not want to rush her into admitting anything if she wasn’t ready.

She shrugs, quickly wiping at her eyes, and your heart nearly crumbles at the sight. You rub soothing circles onto her leg and reach up to wipe a stray tear from her cheek. The intimacy of it all is almost overwhelming, and you bite your bottom lip to keep in the feelings bubbling inside of you, threatening to expose everything.

“Just tired,” Paige mumbles, and you peek at her face, studying the beauty of her features.

Your phone lights up in your hand, alerting you to a DM you had just received from the girl from the live, and you attempt to hold back a wide smile at her boldness. Paige looks down at your screen as you text the girl, Scarlett, back with a giddy expression.

“I’m going to go to bed,” she says coldly, already moving to get under the covers.

“Want me to stay?” You ask hopefully, trying to sound casual. Sleepovers between the two of you had become a cherished ritual, and you needed the simple proximity to make you feel whole again.

“Nah,” she replies flatly, eyes closed and back turned in harsh finality.

“O-oh, okay. Well, goodnight,” you stutter, temporarily stunned at her poignancy, and you flee her room with your head hung low in rejection.

“Is she okay?” KK asks. You don’t even know how to answer that.

“I have no clue what her deal is,” you mumble. “She’s never not wanted me around, so I think I’m just going to go. I’ve got a girl to get to know,” you add, trying to make yourself feel better.

“We’ll let you know if anything happens,” Ice responds kindly, and you nod gratefully in her direction before you take your leave.

You ignore the anxiety as you walk back home, instead focusing on the flirty messages Scarlett was sending to you. ‘This is what I need,’ you think. Paige was never going to be yours, and now you finally had a real chance at getting over her.

With your head held high, you vowed that your feelings for Paige Bueckers would disappear. But would they really? Time could only tell.

Part 2

Part 3

Hope you enjoyed! Let me know if you would be interested in a second part to this!!

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #paige bueckers x you #uconn wbb

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atozfic · 1 year

Text

splish splash.

pairing. san x seonghwa x wooyoung x yunho x fem!reader synopsis. they’re out to prove who’s the best at the breast-stroke- gets dragged off stage as the people boo over such a terrible pun. warnings. no use of y/n, swim team au, lifeguard!reader, pro-swimmers!sanhwawooho, they’re all wearing speedos :), smut ( porn with unnecesary plot, degradation, m+f oral sex, piv sex, anal sex, double penetration, triple penetration bc u got 3 holes for a reason sweetcheeks, mxm interactions, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, hair pulling, way more warnings that there’s honestly no point listing, just know this is pure filth that covers most bases of stereotypical fanfiction smut, mother in christ what have i written? ) no verbal consent is given throughout this but all parties are willing participants !! word count. 20k+ ( of literal porn. i need to leave this physical terrain bc i am not worthy of existing after writing this i fear. ) hyde’s input. hey girlie pops, long time no see.

it’s crazy, what some people will do for money.

take, for example, your roommate. she’s a smart girl. a beautiful one, too. with a promising future in criminal law, once she gets herself that pesky little degree. and, yet, she’s funding her tuition with money she earns distributing high-end drugs on campus. rather counter-productive, most would agree. or, in a far less extreme version, there’s that overly-hyper frat boy, who can always be found doing the dumbest dares at a party, all for a few bucks and a keg of beer.

and then there is you.

you would have arrived home twenty minutes ago at this point, had things gone to plan, a backlog of neglected assignments and a baby bonsai tree in need of watering desperately awaiting your return. yet here you are, stuck in your ugly flip-flops and uncomfortably stale shorts, whistle around your neck and a look of exhaustion on your face.

the swimming pool had closed, technically, an hour and a half ago. the sports centre seems to believe, however, that certain members of the college swim team reserve the right to use the pool for however long they require and desire, even if it is at your expense. if you were being paid overtime, perhaps you’d have a more positive outlook on things and less of a frown creasing on your forehead.

if the swimmers weren’t so irritating, maybe you’d enjoy the view.

“all that height, and for what?” the sophomore boy’s voice- jung wooyoung? you aren’t overly familiar with him, seeing him only in sporadic flashes when you pass each other on campus or at some uncivilised frat party- echos through the large room, his hair a wet mess. if you were gaining anything from being here, you’d perhaps muster up the energy to remind the boy of how a swim cap is necessary at all times in the water. “can’t even out-swim me with those long legs!”

“wanna know what my long legs are for?” jeong yunho, a junior with the face of an angel and the body proportions of a sinner, pipes up from across the olympic length pool. unlike the other boy, a crimson cap keeps his own locks out of sight. “climbing up the stairs to go fuck your mom!”

it’s impossible to stifle your laughter, no matter how hard you try to just play it off as a tickle at the back of your throat, a cough forcing its way out. when your eyes meet those of the glaring senior, however, you’re wishing you hadn’t made a sound.

“even the lifeguard can’t take you seriously, yunho,” park seonghwa speaks, eyes not leaving yours as his muscled arms work to pull himself out of the water, before letting his well-rounded behind sit down on the edge. a breath hitches in your throat as his gloriously muscled thighs come into view, drops of water cascading down them in a pattern set to hypnotise you, keep you staring a little longer than is good for your health. “bet she’s heard all about you and the boner incident of 2019.”

truthfully, you have no clue what the dark haired male is on about. that doesn’t stop you from laughing again though, this time a little out of malice and a lot because it’s quite endearing to see a loudmouth like jeong yunho be silenced so easily, head bowed and ears a little rosier with embarrassment.

this small moment of peace is soon shattered by the reality that these boys can’t spend more than ten minutes in a room- particularly one that includes a pool- without arguing. while one boasts about his speed, the other begins to jab at his lack of endurance, and the remaining of the three reminds them all of the fact he holds the most medals amongst them.

“are they always like this?” you jump, surprised by the cold drop of water that lands on your exposed thigh, all courtesy of the boy who’s invited himself to sit down next to you on the bench.

“not always,” you bite at the inside of your cheek, willing yourself to not look at san in all his wet glory. you’re afraid that, once you start looking at him, you won’t be able to stop. it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve fallen victim to the crime that is his enchanting smile. “guess they’re feeling a little feistier than usual, with the district championship just around the corner. rumour has it one of you guys is risking his scholarship if he’s not in the top three.”

are you and san close?

that’s a good question. see, by social standards, you’re not strangers. you share several classes, you attend the same parties, you’ve even texted a few times- mostly on the days one of you miss class (read as: san misses class thanks to his swim-meets) and you need a copy of any notes taken that lesson.

but, you aren’t exactly friends either. you don’t go out of your ways to spend time together, you don’t know more than the surface level about one another, you don’t check-in with each other.

so, is acquaintances the best word to describe you two?

that depends on how common it is for an acquaintance to suck another acquaintance’s cock. granted, there had been a lot of alcohol in the mix, on both ends, with you drinking to forget a botched assignment and san drinking to forget how badly his voice had apparently cracked in front of his crush.

a few weeks have passed since the incident and things haven’t exactly been the same. you’ve missed class twice and ended up contacting heather- a sweet girl who sits down by the front and seems to live with her hand raised in the air- for any notes. likewise, san has found himself declining party invitations, the knowledge that you would be there all too prevalent in the front of his mind.

the irony is that neither of you quite know the reason why you’re avoiding each other, you just are.

or, were, until san had walked in with his swim team buddies- if they could even be considered that- and spotted you in your lifeguard attire. he hadn’t been as slick as he thought he was, sneaking glances at you between laps and even gaining an undeniable smile each time he watched you blow that stupid whistle at some misbehaving kids.

he was slicker with the fact he didn’t need to be here, at this hour. but, he figured staying gave him the chance to stare at you a little longer and, maybe, think up an excuse to talk to you.

“i should-”

“i missed-”

you both speak at the same time, minutes after watching the three musketeers disappear into the locker rooms, with the smallest of them continuing to dig at them for not being able to out-swim him despite their ample amount of height. san’s quick to signal you to go first, a dimple making itself known on his face and reminding you of the deadliest part of him: the false innocence that drips off him like warm candy.

sweet, sticky, making a mess all over the place.

“i should probably start cleaning up.” it turns out san also isn’t discreet when it comes to hiding the disappointment in his face, because no sooner than those words leave your mouth, the dimple is gone and he’s sat a little straighter, a little more ridged, like when the professor points him out in the middle of the class and the golden boy can’t stomach all the attention being on him. “but, what were you gonna say?”

“oh,” and it’s like he’s just remembered that yes, there is something he wants to say. “i missed you in class yesterday.”

it catches you off guard, leaving you to almost drop the whistle you’ve been fiddling between your fingers for the past few minutes. something about sitting so close to him while both of you are dressed so scantily has you feeling unnerved, like you need to run away as fast as possible, yet also wanting to plant yourself right in his lap.

“i didn’t think,” you’re cut off by your own throat, dry and desperate for a drink under his intense gaze. san is a walking contradiction, you think, with his sharp cheekbones and soft heart, his intense eyes and his easy-going smile. his presence gives you never-ending whiplash, never sure if he’s more angel than devil. “i didn’t think you noticed.”

“how could i not? there was no one to laugh with me at professor nam and his weird toe-shoes!” his laugh is infectious, willing your own to make an appearance.

the sound of distant muffled yelling fills the air of the swimming pool and it isn’t hard to recognise wooyoung’s high-pitched laughter amongst it. clearly, their childish arguing has carried on into the changing rooms. it surprises you in no way, already more than used to their antics.

their rivalry is one for the ages, all of them constantly bumping heads for the spot of the top swimmer on campus, their sports scholarships becoming their pride and joy.

you suppose it doesn’t help that all four boys run in different circles, only really crossing paths when faced with swim-meets and days of practice. the senior, park seonghwa, runs with the richer kids of the college, all sharing their trust-funds and god complexes as a common interest. you’re not overly familiar with them, though you’re certain he and a particular blue-haired boy are rarely seen apart. jeong yunho, the tallest, is in with the jocks, which is mostly just because his taller friend is the captain of the basketball team. and jung wooyoung tends to surround himself with the stoners from the school, something you’d learned from kang yeosang, a dealer you shared a couple classes with back in your first semester.

san, ever the golden boy, drifts between a couple different groups but he can usually be found alone and enjoying his own company, if not being followed by a flock of his own little fan-club, men and women alike begging for just an ounce of his time.

your name echos around the room. your head snaps to the side and you find that san is now closer, staring at you in a way that’s making your insides knot up. you’ve seen that look only once before, and it done nothing but leave your knees and your ego bruised. “were you listening to me?”

“what? uh, yeah, i was,” you’re quick to lie, knowing it’s about to backfire when he breaks out in a challenging grin.

“really? what did i say?” he only allows you to stumble over words for a minute before cutting off your incomprehensible speaking when he grabs at your chin and tilts your head up, staring straight into your eyes. “that’s what i thought. you were too busy getting lost in that pretty little head of yours to pay attention to me.”

you stutter over a noise and settle for that as your response, though entirely incomprehensible and nonsensical. the way he continues to stare at you feels cruel, demons dancing around in those pretty eyes of his. demons that are telling him to tease, torture, torment the fragile eyes staring back at him, the same ones he’d delighted in watching fill up with tears a few weeks back, the pressure of his crown slamming against the back of your tight throat entirely overwhelming you to the point of crying, tears dripping down your cheeks and mixing with your own drool pooling over the swell of his balls.

“need me to repeat myself?” you’re slow to catch up to the fact he’s speaking again, and even slower to notice the hand resting on your knee. at first, you think you’re imagining things, the feather light tracing of nails over your soft skin a mere figment of your imagination. but, no, your eyes flash down to glimpse and his hand is there, fingers dancing over your naked skin like it’s their own personal stage and he’s intending to put on the show of a lifetime. he speaks your name. “questions are meant to be answered.”

“i-” san picks the perfect time to apply pressure on you, hand gripping the flesh on the lower end of your thigh. goosebumps spring to life at the feeling of his cold ring on your damp skin. it takes a shaky breath to try compose yourself but you do eventually manage to get a reply out. “sorry... please say it again.”

“huh,” he pauses to contemplate, slowly leaning his face closer to your own, giving you all the time to pull back if you want to. you stay still and his minty breath infects your senses while the hand on your leg replaces your thigh with your face, the grip he has on it forcing blunt nails to nip at your skin. normally, you’d worry about the marks it’s going to leave behind. right now, you want him to grip tighter, dig deeper into your flesh till he’s drawing blood and licking it off your cheeks. “how the fuck do you still sound so cute begging?”

“is that,” his other hand curls around the back of you, finding a resting place on your hip. the window of opportunity you once had to pull back or run away is slammed shut the moment he tugs you a little closer, the side of your body crashing into his naked chest. “what you said earlier?”

“oh, no.” san almost sounds like he’s cooing, a mocking tone in his voice that has your thighs clenching in a way you’re sure he notices. his eye flickering down to glance at them confirms your suspicions, the smirk taking over his features the metaphorical cherry on top. “i was just talking about how i’ve still not returned the favour.”

mind blanking out on you, you stare back at him in what you can only imagine to be a dumb-founded look, mouth slightly agape and teasing your answer.

what follows, however, is a resounding silence on your end.

“c’mon, princess, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten what happened the last time i got you alone.”

forget? it’s all you’ve been able to think of every time you’ve seen him since, whether he was a figure in the corner of your eye during class or making his way down the campus car-park in search of his beaten up mustang.

each time, like an old record player, your mind plays on loop the way he looked staring down at you, long legs spread enough to fit you between them, closing in on you to trap you in place each time you swallowed him a little deeper; replaying the symphony of whiny moans and airy breaths you’d pulled from him, lips swollen and red from trying too hard to hold back his cries of pleasure; reviving the memory of his vice grip on your hair, tugging at the roots to tilt you back into the perfect angle for his hips to piston into your warm mouth, meeting his own crescendo in one final pathetic whimper of your name.

a whimper that’s pushed you over the edge several times since, fingers soaked in your own sins and mouth biting down on your pillow to keep your poor sleeping roommate oblivious to your actions.

“no,” an answer escapes you alongside a shaky breath, something about the way he’s slowly trailing his fingers down your neck and the intensity he’s staring at you with hypnotising you into forgetting all about the boisterous boys and their changing-rooms chanting. “haven’t forgot.”

it’s his turn to stay quiet and you begin to wonder if he’s recalling it too, if he’s reminding himself of how easily your bodies melted together, like candle-wax meeting a flame. the question of if he’s thought about the exact scene, hands stuffed down his pants while a dull ache builds in his wrist, burns the tip of your tongue.

but his eyes burn you more.

they’re usually wide, bright, full of that bubbly nature san is known all over for. but, if what people say is true and the eyes are the mirror to one’s soul, then san’s soul must be a dark pit made up of lustful glares and hooded eyelids, resting so low his eyes almost appear shut.

“then, don’t you agree that it’s my turn to have a taste?”

it’s the question to end all questions, no time to even think of forming an answer when his fingertips are dancing over your skin so rhythmically, like a practiced choreography when they curl and wrap themselves around your neck. they rest there for a heartbeat, and then another, before you feel it begin.

the pressure is dull, at first, and you think you’re imagining it. but it grows, like a seed under the sun, blossoms into thorns squeezing around your airways, a deformed rose made from the red marks his fingers will be sure to leave behind.

you try to breath in, only for it to get caught somewhere between your lips and his tightening hold.

“you’re too fucking pretty, you know?” the hand on your hip has found a new home on your cheek, palm warm and thumb rough as he swipes it over your bottom lip. “all i can ever think about around you, even when you were drooling all over my balls.”

you want to answer, you really do. but between the hand around your throat and the heat shooting straight for your core, burning up in a puddle of arousal, you can’t. all you can do is watch the man before you, raven hair a beautiful mess just begging for some fingers to be ran through it and stare promising to ruin you in the best way possible.

the silence pleases him.

“y’know, it’s so hard to get you alone. always got someone wanting to talk to you, stealing your attention. do you even know how many stupid parties i had to attend to finally get the chance to talk to you?” san pauses, like he’s waiting for you to relay an answer, guess a number. he loosens up the grip on your neck, teasing your skin with a few soothing strokes of his slender fingers, lulling you into a state bordering insanity. “no answer, angel? or are you lost in that pretty little head again?”

“i’m,” your voice is but a whisper, raspy with your new found thirst. “trying to figure out what you want from me.”

if it’s the wrong or right thing to say, you’re soon to find out, the sharp faced boy releasing a dangerously low chuckle as he takes a hold of your chin. like a pretty doll, you move any time and any way his fingers command you to, finding yourself staring right up into his eyes, a swirl of melting caramel that reminds you of how sweet yet sultry every inch of him is. lips near touching, he refuses to break eye contact as he speaks up once more, sealing both your fates when his breath hits your face.

“then let me show you what i want.”

his mouth comes down on yours like it’s the answers to all your prayers and, yet, all your nightmares.

it excites you how easily he works his lips over your own, captivating every inch of you when he tilts his head to the right and deepens the kiss. the rhythm to his kiss is a mismatch of beats, where one moment your lips are moving in a sensual waltz, grazing tongues and dipping heads to get rid of that inch of a space remaining between your bodies, and the next moment your tongues are tangled in a tango, the kind where his teeth send blood rushing to your lips with every bite he drags over them and his hand drags shivers down your spine as it makes its way down your body.

yet it terrifies you how willingly you succumb to san’s touch, intoxicated by whatever witchcraft he currently holds over you. there’s a deadliness to the way his lips part from your own only to begin a seamless descent down your jaw and the expanse of your neck, a poisonous element to the way his hand once again finds itself clutching the meat of your thigh.

the moment his fingertips meet the bottom of your shorts, you’re wishing you’d never slipped them on in the first place, every fibre of your being growing angsty under the weight of his suddenly halted hand. it stays still for an immeasurable amount of time, grazing over the bottom of your shorts occasionally while he continues to mouth at your neck.

like mosses and the great sea, san parts your legs with little to no effort, creating a pathway for his fingers to travel further up your thigh. blunt fingernails drag up your skin, a trail of goosebumps being left behind, a visible marking of where he’s touching you.

his movements halt too soon for your liking, too much distance between his lithe fingers and your body’s very core.

“have you figured out what i want yet, pretty?” his voice is a stark difference to the usual light-hearted, almost squeak-like tone you’ve grown used to hearing from the smiley boy. right now, there’s no trace of humour in the thick rasp and there’s no time for smiling while he’s glaring down at you through hooded eyes.

something compels you to nod your head, even though you’re a little too lost in the thoughts concerning what you want, rather than what the devil incarnate by your side wants.

“you have?” the words come out in a layer of amazement, and you have to wonder if it’s because of the lie you’ve just told or the way your legs have closed in around his hand, trapping it between them. “i want to know what you want, though.”

you want his thumb to stop stroking over the flesh of your inner thigh.

you want his eyes to stop gazing down at you like you’re the perfect prey.

you want him to stop teetering your impending pleasure on a string.

you want-

“you.” is all you manage to breath out.

it seems to do the trick, however, your point getting very much across to him. a softness flickers over his features, brows unfurling and smirk curling up into a full smile for what feels like an eternity, but is actually no more than a couple of seconds before his devilish aura is back.

lips meet lips again, the desperation and force behind each stroke of his tongue against yours the same as before. san, much to your delight, seems to grow just as impatient as you’ve been since the moment he welcomed himself into the empty space next to you on the bench.

one hand still resting between your thighs, his other seizes the opportunity to drag your body closer, so close that you have no choice but to swing one leg over him and slot yourself in his lap.

there was one time, in the middle of what you’ve deemed to be the most boring lecture ever, that you had thought about what it would feel like to sit in choi san’s lap. unintentionally, of course, for how could anyone look over at him in those grey sweatpants, legs manspreading like it was nobody’s business and pen tapping away at the table in front of him, and not daydream about being perched in his lap, head resting somewhere between his shoulder and his soft hair?

you’d imagined him to be the embodiment of soft and comfortable, warm and reassuring the way he’d lazily lay an arm over your hip to make sure there’s no risk of you slipping out of your new seat. you never, for the life of you, imagined you’d feel the outline of his dick resting against your ass the first time you finally claimed your throne.

choosing to not dwell on the heavy feeling of him pressed against you, you choose instead to focus on the way his lips trail away from yours and make their descent towards the top of your chest.

his hand abandons post between your thighs and rises to the surface, where long fingers begin to pull at the straps of your red swimsuit, successfully manoeuvring the nylon material till it’s bunched around your midriff and your breasts are exposed to the damp air of the swimming hall.

with no want left to play around, he dives right in to dragging his lips down the upper swell of your left breast. you imagine he can feel the beating of your racing heart beneath the goosebump littered skin. it doesn’t take long for his tongue to enter the scene, skilfully flicking over your hardened nipple a couple times before enveloping his mouth around the bud.

one, two, three sucks and he’s moving on to your right breast. there’s no lead up, this time, simply his mouth finding delight in toying with your body while he busies his hand with your left side, thumb and pointer finger rolling and tugging and spreading the remnants of his saliva over your heated skin.

the straw that breaks the camel’s back, and has you arching your own, is the faintest pressure of his teeth biting down on you. it dances on a thin line between pleasurable and painful, exhilarating enough to make you throw your head back as a moan slips past your lips. it echoes in the empty room, replaying your own sound for both of you to hear again and again before the chain is broken by a giggle.

his giggle.

“why are,” he picks the right time to trail his fingers down your body, dragging your swimsuit with them till it sits uncomfortably tight around the top of your hipbones, skintight fabric digging into the damp skin. “you laughing?”

“has anyone ever told you how pretty your tits are?” it’s crude and heartwarming all at once, quite like the man who says it and the little smile he shoots up in your direction as he rolls his tongue over your nipple once again.

“no, i can’t say they have.” the hands that have been resting on his shoulder, grasping them in a vice grip in fear of slipping off of him and and directly onto the concrete floor, gain enough confidence for you let one slide around to the back of his neck and thread your fingertips in the back of his locks, hair as soft as you’ve always imagined it to be. “you’re the first.”

“i’ll wear that title with honour,” he seems to delight in the way you’re carding through his hair, eyes closing while he tilts his head back further into your touch. a delighted sigh follows. “has anyone ever asked you to sit on their face?”

“again, no.”

“another honourable title for me, i guess.” san’s giving you whiplash, with all this switching between being his usual goofy self and the man that minutes before was speaking profanities on how you’d looked choking on his dick. he peaks his eyes open again, slowly, adjusting to the bright lights he stares up at each time he’s doing the backstroke. when he has the nerves to smile at you, all dreamy eyed and relaxed sitting beneath your body on the bench. “now, can you please stand up and get naked so you can fuck yourself on my tongue?”

this time, it’s your laugh that echoes in the air.

“stop, i’m being serious!” he seems to whine his way through his words, bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly in a way you’re certain is going to drive you insane. “i can’t go another second like this, you literally sitting on my dick, without blowing my load. and i really don’t feel like having to explain to coach kwon why my team speedos are stained in cum.”

“you’re so-” you give up on trying to find a single word to describe him, knowing there’s no word that can quite capture choi san’s essence. “okay, okay, fine, but you kind of need to let go of me for me to, y’know, stand up.”

“oh, sorry bout that.” san’s sheepish smile shouldn’t be this cute, not when it’s followed by him removing his hands from your half-naked body.

reluctant, your feet meet the ground and you stand up from his lap. he seems to move quicker than you, no hesitation to be seen as he twists his body around and lays along the bench on his back, eyes all the while watching you expectantly.

your fingers are far from as nimble as his, and there’s a shake to them, meaning you’re a lot less slick with how you pull the swimsuit off yourself. you opt for killing two birds with one stone, dragging your shorts down alongside the red suit, till both are pooled around your feet and you’re begging with every cell in your body that you look more graceful than you feel, stepping out of the leg holes.

in all honesty, you’re more embarrassed with the fact he’d watched you remove your clothes than with how you’re now stood naked, legs a little shaky and the wetness gathering between your folds you’re suddenly so much more aware of, the cool air fighting against your pulsating heat.

“well?” san speaks with expectation, legs bent at the knee while the balls of his feet rest on the edge of the bench. “are you gonna just stand there or you gonna sit on my face?”

“are you... sure you want me to?” even you feel the idiocy behind asking such a thing, when he’s laying right there with eyes full of glee and a raging boner pressed against his hip, nothing but the familiar colours of your college to stop you from seeing him all his naked glory. still, you can’t help elaborating. “i mean, the bench isn’t exactly sturdy and, i mean, what if i slip off of you?”

“y/n, are you joking? you have to be joking!” his offence is playful enough to ease a little of the hesitation inside of you. “do you see these puppies, baby? these are my mad gains from flailing my silly little arms around in a pool six days a week!”

you think this can’t be real as you watch the golden boy of the school put on a show, flexing his arms in an effort to display his muscles and voicing the most ridiculous words that not even he seems to be taking seriously, a bubble of laughter popping in every sentence.

“i’m not gonna let you slip, now hurry up!” again with the whining.

“god, you’re so desperate!”

“for you? always.”

the following minute is made up of wobbled steps and a poor attempt at amping yourself up, repeating mantra after mantra in your head that you are the sex goddess and no man is going to make you feel nervous. not even if that man has a jaw one could slice diamonds with.

he’s got a firm grasp of your thighs before you’ve even got the chance to get comfortable, legs a little shaky as you hover over his naked chest and will your knees to find grip on the bench beneath them.

“come closer, my tongue’s not that long!” san’s pulling you up, closer, all the way to where his wanton mouth awaits you. as if to give you a preview of what awaits you, the kisses from before reduced to nothing, his tongue pops out to run over the smooth of his bottom lip. you repeat the process of trying to find balance, a position in which you don’t need to worry about toppling overboard. though, with the way his finger squeeze into your thigh, you doubt you’ll have to worry about that truly happening. “comfortable?”

“as i’ll ever be.”

“all the people that would die to be in your position, and you say that?” he tsks, tongue hitting off the roof of his mouth before a blow of air hits against your folds and, though it’s faint from the distance still between his mouth and where he wants it to be, it sends a jolt of excitement up your spine. “i’ll just have to make sure i over-perform, make you more eager for next time.”

neither of you choose to dwell on the words next time.

him, too occupied with getting his first taste, tongue licking a strip up your core and coming to a stop as the tip of it bumps against your clit.

you, too busy having the air knocked out of your lungs, hand unconsciously finding safety in gripping his hair as you lurch forward momentarily, mouth falling open in a quiet gasp that echoes around and around.

“hmm, make sure you hold on tight.” you know he’s teasing you, with his words, and with his eyes, and with his mouth that seems to find enjoyment in trailing itself over your clitoral hood and up your pubic bone. “you smell mouthwatering, you know? enough to make a man go feral.”

the chance to reply never comes, not when san makes his way back down to your clit and greets it with the stroke of his flattened tongue. every tiny nerve sparks to life under his touch and you feel yourself grow wetter, a wave of warm arousal leaking out of your hole. his tongue dives down to welcome it, not allowing more than a single drop- landing on his chin- to go to waste.

you don’t even notice the lack of his grip around your left leg until you feel it: the first few seconds of his fingertips probing around your soaked cunt, coating themselves in your liquid pleasure until it’s dripping down the back of his hand.

the first finger to enter your hole is gentle, tentative to the way your body receives him, his pointer and ring finger keeping your folds spread and allowing him the full view of the middle one slowly disappearing from sight, burying itself in the warmth of your pussy. distracted, his mouth pulls back and his head meets the bench again while his eyes soak in the sight above him, flickering up to catch your reaction when another finger enters you, this time with a lot less care as it forces you open around it.

“so pretty,” he mutters the words, more to himself than to you, delighting as he witnesses you struggling to bite back a pathetic moan when his digits curl within you. he repeats the action a couple times, flicking his wrist back and forth, fingers brushing over your tight walls each time and culminating in a curl that has him pressing against the spongy-like flesh inside. “so, so pretty.”

your hips begin to rut against his hand, meeting every one of his thrusts with perfect timing that has him reaching deeper, further, better places inside of you. all the while he’s just watching and admiring the furrow in your brow and the way the swells of your breast bounce in sync with you.

your pussy clenches tighter and his fingers fight to reach deeper before spreading themselves wider in an attempt to scissor you open. he’s giving it his all, a third finger slipping in despite the dull ache setting in his wrist while he coaxes you closer and closer to the tipping point.

san takes just as easy as he gives, and it’s that fact alone that drives him to pull his hand back, fingers withdrawing from you and the pleasure you’re pursuing.

“why’d you-” you heave through heavy breaths, brain fuzzy from the unvoiced orgasm you were so close to having, every nerve ready to tingle, every muscle ready to tremble, every toe ready to curl. “stop?”

“because,” the wet smack of his fingers hitting against your clit is louder than the whimper that drops from your mouth. san hears both, however, and grins, quickly landing another smack against your engorged clit. “the goal is to make you cum on my face, not my fingers. consider them the appetiser, something to awaken your senses.”

his tongue licks in an upward motion, starting from the tip of your taint and ending at your clit, and you get deja-vu to just minutes before, when you’d first felt his tongue on your melting skin, the saliva it leaves in a trail behind it serving to cool you down. a shiver runs up your spine as he blows air onto your cunt, the pressure of it doing wonders to stimulate your clit.

“would you stop?”

“look who’s whining now.” san, despite what he says, does as you ask and puts an end what feels like unending teasing- really, it’s hardly been a minute but the pulsing of your heat and the loss of a climax leave you no room to think about something as abstract as time.

his lips make a victorious return, wrapping themselves around your clit and sucking against the pulsing nub. every so often, he delivers a couple kitten licks- ups and downs, sides to sides, figure eights- before swiftly returning to kissing your most intimate parts.

in an attempt to make your toes curl, he dips lower and teases the tips of his tongue over your entrance, wet muscle moving over wet skin and tastebuds covering themselves in your essence, till the moans echoing off the walls are indistinguishable between san’s and your own.

“you can move,” he grunts into you after a few minutes of repeated alternating between kissing your clit and tonguing at your hole. it’s muffled with the way he’s holding you down against his face and you feel his lips brush against your lower ones as he speaks. “need you to move. wanna see you use me, pretty.”

and, who are you to deny the man?

you’re hesitant at first, just like you were all those weeks ago as you sank to your knees for him. you test the waters and give a single roll of your hips. it feels good, great, especially when paired with his own efforts at dragging his tongue over you.

it takes a few more attempts, and san’s patience wearing thin to the point he resorts to grabbing a firm hold of your arse cheeks and planting you flat on his mouth, tongue flat and eyes staring up at you in a demand to move, goddamn it.

move you most certainly do, grinding down on his tongue like you’ve done many a time with different men’s cocks. it’s messy, sloppy in the way that his spit mingles with your wetness, a cocktail of fluids sliding down his throat, and painting his lips, and dribbling down his chin as he eats you like a man starved that’s alas getting a taste of the sweetest fruit.

the rhythm of your hips is thrown off when the man beneath you switches from having you grinding down onto his flattened tongue to slipping the muscle inside of your hole, thrusting it as far as up as the length of it allows him to. with every time your body comes crashing down on his mouth, the tip of his nose bumps against your clit, forcing you to angle yourself upwards to gain more of the friction.

hands find hair, lips part in unabashed moans, thighs shake with the oncoming of an orgasmic state of mind.

the moment builds too quickly, too unexpectedly, like the ghost of your stolen climax is back with a vengeance and set on ensuring there will be no denying it this time.

“s-shit,” your eyes squeeze shut, too scared to look down at his ecstasy filled eyes in fear of it being what finally tips you over the edge. “i’m gonna- ah- gonna cum.”

san pays no mind to your warning. if anything, he takes it as a challenge, an invisible timer beginning in his head and forcing him to see how quickly he can get you to unravel all over his face. he’s getting everything he asked for, your naked body a mess above him as you fuck yourself on his tongue and your hands, with minds of their own, sliding up to grab and squeeze at your tits.

he watches how the pastel blue nail polish clashes with the darkened colour of your abused nipples, fingers working to pinch, and twist, and pull at them as you lose yourself in the moment.

when you cum, it’s with rolled-back eyes and shaky thighs, his hands gripping at you tighter to steady you as you sway above him, his tongue working at coaxing you through your high.

he licks up every drop of cum he can manage, until you’re cringing in overstimulation and reaching down to push him away. he let’s you move him, mouth moving to trail a couple kisses over your inner thigh, something akin to lipstick stains- yet so much dirtier in nature- being left behind on your soft flesh.

“told you i wouldn’t let you fall,” he’s the first to speak, partly because he correctly thinks you’re incapable of forming anything coherent in the afterglow of your orgasm, but mostly because he wants- no, needs to hear you praise him.

needs to hear you praise him like he’d done for you that night, eyes still hooded and chest visibly heaving as he finished processing watching you swallow every spurt of hot cum he’d shot down your throat. the praise never comes.

well, at least not from you.

at first he thinks he’s imagining the sound of clapping. it’s slow, and booming, and tinted with the slightest hint of sarcasm. it grows louder though, far too loud for it to just be in his imagination. the stilling of your body, going rigid as you fall back onto his chest, the sticky remnants of your orgasm cold against his heated skin, confirms that you hear the clapping too.

“bravo, choi. always thought your reputation with the ladies was a little overhyped, but i stand corrected.”

never has he hated the sight of park seonghwa so much, not even in the times they’ve been head-to-head in the final lap and the older male’s offensively bright swim-cap is all san can see every time he twists his head to catch a breath of air.

the three swimmers stand on the opposite end of the swimming pool, all in various stages of undress.

there’s wooyoung, who looks like he’s not so much as dried himself with a towel, still dressed in his team swimwear. and yunho, who’s got a towel wrapped around his waist messily, hair damp against his forehead and likely smelling of the cheap shampoo provided in the locker-room showers. lastly, seonghwa, who’s seemingly fully dressed spar for one of those irritating long coats san always sees him trailing around campus in.

one look into your panicked eyes is enough for san to spring into action, fumbling to sit himself up and pull your body flush against his, facing your naked back in the direction of his rivals.

he bites back a groan as you shift in his lap, unknowingly- or maybe you do know- pressing your soaked centre against his erection, which already strains inside the confines of the nylon material, leaving very little to the imagination.

“do you mind?” he’s glad the words come out clearly, booming across the pool at them and their unwavering staring.

“not at all.”

san holds you tighter against him, eyeing at your discarded swimsuit on the floor as he listens to a shuffle of footsteps. assuming the three men have made their way back into the locker-room, he’s speechless when he looks up to find them approaching the bench, seonghwa leading the trio with a secure grip on the back of wooyoung’s neck, whose eyes can’t seem to leave the floor, while yunho trails a little behind them, one hand grasping onto the towel around him.

“get your hands off her!” he leans back, pulling you with him, in an attempt to stray out of seonghwa’s reach as he extends his hand out. he fails, however, and the tips of seonghwa’s elongated fingers brush over your shoulder.

a shiver runs down you, one that san feels, the unexpected touch tickling your nerves.

“she’s a grown up,” the eldest of the men muses as he builds a rhythm out of how his fingers soother over your sweat slicked skin. “who i’m sure can speak for herself if she wants my hands off her.”

out of all the men, seonghwa has always been the one san despised most. between the constant boasting of wealth- money he acquired through labor, though not the working kind- and the disrespect he’s never had a problem showing towards others, he never fails to strike a nerve, awakening a dark part of san’s brain that activates his fight or flight response. by far, however, his arrogance is the worst, that sense of entitlement that drives him to think everything and everyone is a piece of clay for him to mold and manipulate till they fit his ideal shape.

the rich boy’s hand smoothes over your naked shoulder and san can’t resist glaring up at him.

“c’mon san, now’s hardly the time to be modest,” behind the oldest swimmer, yunho and wooyoung seem to be battling an inner conflict, yunho fighting to keep his towel in place and wooyoung fighting to keep the shame off his face while his dick visibly strains against the confines of his chlorine-covered swimwear. “not after the show you two just put on.”

“we didn’t,” it’s the first time you manage to speak since covering san’s tongue in your cum, breathing at last steady and face hidden from everyone’s view, much to san’s despair. “know you were watching.”

“and, if you had known, would you have stopped?” yunho is the one asking the question and, suddenly, san’s so much more aware of what exactly he’s hiding underneath his towel.

you give no answer.

“of course she wouldn’t,” seonghwa answers for you, hand moving to grasp the back of your neck. with no warning, he grips a little too tight for comfort and and yanks you backwards, till you’re staring right into san’s eyes and the only thing keeping you perched in his lap is seonghwa’s body pressed flat against yours. “there’s nothing a whore loves more than an audience, right?”

if put on trial in a court of law and sworn to tell the truth, and nothing but the truth, over whether or not you’d just clenched around nothing at park seonghwa’s degrading name, you’d plead that you never did such a thing.

you’d be found guilty.

“poor woo nearly came untouched just watching you two. isn’t that right?” the eldest turns to stare back at where you imagine wooyoung to be. “pretty boy nearly whined just at the thought of being in san’s position, a mouth full of cunt and someone using him like the fuck-toy he is.”

the air grows thick, between you, and san, and every other living being in the room. it feels like the walls are closing in on themselves with every second that passes, the sweat dripping down your back and coming to a rest between your arse cheeks evidence that the space is heating up. or maybe it’s just your body, hardly processing the high it’s just come down from and there’s already another source for a new-found arousal, a source in the shape of three muscular men stood behind you and one beneath you, eyes wary as he gazes into your own, like he wants to ask if you’re okay but all the blood is too busy circulating in his crotch for his brain to be productive.

“now, i hardly think it’s very nice of you to get our wooyoung all riled up and not even offer to help him out.” you decide you’re being lulled into a false sense of safety the second you feel the pressure of seonghwa’s hand leave your skin. behind you, there’s a shuffling of footsteps that call you to crane your neck and catch a glimpse of what exactly is going on but san’s eyes beg you to keep staring into his, to count the galaxies that dance within them while he grips at your waist. “so the chance to offer is off the table and you’re simply going to do as told. doesn’t that sound easier, hmm? no having to make pesky decisions, just spread those legs and follow orders.”

at last, you get your first glimpse at jung wooyoung.

he sits down on the bench, no more than a breath of space between where you and san are perched. he’s a vision in himself, shoulders hunched and embarrassed face the same shade of red as the tip of his cock, an angry looking bulbous head poking out the top of far-too-tight speedos.

san’s grip tightens the longer you stare at the other boy, gaze dancing over the shape of his body and mouth-watering as, for the first time, you see the appeal of jung wooyoung. never before have you understood why eyes follow him in the hallways, like he’s more than just another pretty boy on campus- something that’s in abundance. but you see it now, understand the appeal of his stand-out nose; and the veins that run down his arms; and floppy style to his hair, that seems to be calling out to have your fingers running through it.

with no prior warning, the grip on your hips tightens even more, till san is digging crescents into the soft skin and he’s lifting you, off of his lap and right into wooyoung’s.

the usually boisterous boy’s eyes meet yours, no longer filled with that spark of defiance and, instead, glazed over in tears, a quiet pleading being exchanged between you.

only, you’re unsure what he’s begging of you.

“are you going to just sit there,” seonghwa speaks up, boredom in his tone that has you picturing him rolling his eyes and picking at his manicured nails. “or are you going to help the poor pup cum?”

“what?!” that certainly helps you find your voice, and the guts to turn around and look at the man.

you find him stood closer than you imagined, with tailored trousers hugging his thighs and a perfectly ironed shirt tucked into them, the last few messy buttons the only indication he’d rushed to dress himself. eyes looking past him, you find more of a friendly aura in yunho, who, despite fighting a battle against the towel wrapped around his figure, manages to shoot a smile at you.

and then there’s san, who stands with muscled arms crossed over his chest and a painfully obvious boner resting in the confines of his swimwear, though he’s done a better job at keeping himself concealed than the boy beneath you. his face appears indifferent, yet the twitch in his eye speaks of a tamed anger, a frustration he’s yet to unleash on the men who’d interrupted him amidst his feast.

“are you now deaf along with being dumb or something?” the eldest pulls your attention back to him with little effort, a smirk meeting the glare you shoot his way. “you made that brat hard, now do your job and fix the mess you’ve made.”

words of protest get lost in a surprised gasp as the boy in question takes your hand in his, veiny hand guiding you down to a veiny shaft. wooyoung wraps both of your fingers over his leaking cock, his holding yours in place around him while he ruts his hips up once, twice into your hold, the action sending his swimwear even further down the his length and exposing nearly the full sight of it to the swimming hall.

you don’t mean to compare, yet you’re incapable of ignoring the fact that while wooyoung may be on the slightly shorter side compared to san, he’s certainly leading in the thickness department, with a mushroomed head and the prettiest trail of trimmed hairs leading down his pelvis.

he guides you over his shaft a number of times, a little less shy now as he outwardly whines when your thumb runs over his tip, wiping away the fat bead of precum resting upon it. at some point, he moves his hand away, needing both of his free to lean back on the bench, yet yours keeps moving at it’s own volition, stroking him in a pattern of threes, interrupting every trio with a swipe over his tip or a fondle of his still-concealed balls.

“please,” the whine in his voice is so unlike the jung wooyoung you’ve watched week after week, hurling abuse and echoing boasts of his own talents while keeping himself afloat in the swimming pool.

“he asked nicely.” you’d just about forgotten about everyone else in the room, until seonghwa’s irritatingly unbothered voice serves to remind you of his presence. “rule number one: good behaviour is rewarded.”

“what do i,” you interrupt your own question to glance over wooyoung once more. “do?” you pinch your thigh, skin stinging as nails bite it, and confirm with yourself that this is not a dream but, in fact, very much real.

jung wooyoung is hard and begging you to do something.

“i don’t care how you do it, just put one of your holes to good use for once and make him cum.”

there’s still an echo of seonghwa’s voice by the time you successfully manage to rid wooyoung of his swimwear, the damp fabric clinging to the warm skin and the taut muscles of his thighs. the boy isn’t much help either, seemingly reduced to nothing but a writhing, panting mess instead of someone competent enough to raise himself off the bench just enough for you to undress him.

the sight is mesmerising, one you’re certain will remain ingrained in your memory till the day you die: wooyoung, disheveled and untouched, with his achingly hard cock pressed flat against his lower stomach, his swimmer-thighs spread with a set of balls between them that you find yourself near salivating over as a trickle of his own precum runs down them.

“your cock’s...” you begin to speak, yet trail off as your digits wrap themselves around his shaft, just to delight in the way his breath jumps when you drag your hand upwards and give a soft squeeze as you reach the head. “so pretty, woo.”

“youngie.” seonghwa cuts in from behind you. “he prefers to be called youngie when he’s getting his cock teased.”

“yeah, youngie?” you try it out.

instantly, he nods and something akin to a whimper flies out of him.

fascinated by his shaky breaths and his pretty chest, where warm, tanned skin appears to be near glowing under the swimming halls bright lights as his cheeks flush a palette full of reds and pinks, your eyes are completely fixed on him. there’s something vulnerable and breakable about the way he’s looking at your with the widest of eyes, his eyebrows furrowed and bottom lip receiving countless abuse from his teeth.

never have you been so desperate to push someone past their own limits.

officially running on nothing but pure instincts, you close your mind off to thoughts, like how the boy you’d spent weeks avoiding and missing is stood only metres away, witnessing the way the tip of your finger teases over the slit of his sport rival’s cock. or like how park seonghwa, perhaps the campus’ most infamous trust-fund baby, seems to have complete control of the situation at hand, yourself and jung wooyoung nothing but idolised dolls he’s moving into whatever obscene position he wants you in.

instead, you focus on how wooyoung’s eyes roll back and he lets out a gasp when you gather up fluids from within your salivating mouth and part your own lips, watching how your own spit drips onto his lower stomach, and your hand, and his painfully hard cock.

the saliva serves not only as a visual pleasure, something that’s awakening inside of you at the sight of it leaving you with whole new kind of excitement bubbling along your body, but as a physical pleasure for wooyoung, who seems to have no protest to how much easier it is to slide your hand up his length with the added lubrication of your own spit.

“fuck...” he curses under his breath and his hands find purchase on your body, one gripping your hip while the other grabs at your forehand, like he’s scared you’ll release the grip you have on him and strip away the sweet release of friction. “don’t just focus on the tip- shit, ah- play with my balls too.”

“wooyoung!” ready to oblige, ready to give the pretty faced boy anything he demanded of you, you’ve no time to think of a reply before the ringmaster of this circus reminds you of his overlooking presence behind your back. “stop speaking like an ungrateful brat and take what you’re given. or else... well, i’m sure you don’t need reminding of what happens to pups that misbehave.”

the way jung wooyoung’s whole body grows rigid beneath you, paired with the countless times park seonghwa has butted in to speak on the boy’s sexual preferences, leaves you with the sense that the two are not only acquainted with how each other’s bodies move underwater..

“s-sorry,” this is not the voice of boastful jung wooyoung, who near bounces down the college halls and airdrops nudes in class because he’s bored. this is a voice that’s soft and meek. like a beady-eyed puppy, so quick to submit to it’s owner. “just feels too good. i’m sorry”

“yeah, you will be sorry.” seonghwa’s hand is cold against your back and it lulls a shiver out of you as fingers trickle down your spine like water off a duck’s wings. part of you hates him for stealing wooyoung’s attention off of you just as you were beginning to revel in it, a larger part of you wants to know why the sternness in his voice is enough to have your clit aching to be touched. “spitfire, be a good cocksleave and sit on his dick.”

“ok, stop!” a sense of shame comes over you when it takes hearing san’s outburst to remember the fact he’s watching the scene unfold. “don’t you think you’re taking this too far now, park seonghwa? i know you and wooyoung have your... agreement on how you treat each other, but don’t drag someone else into it. not when she never even asked for this.”

“you had your tongue tasting the eighth wonder of the world on that bench twenty minutes ago, both of you knowing there was a chance you’d be caught, and you want to tell me no one was asking for this?”

“that was private! you guys are the ones who-”

“there’s no such thing as privacy in a public area. besides, it’s hardly like she’s not enjoying this. if anything, i think spitfire doesn’t like the way you’re getting in the way of her teaching youngie a lesson in obedience.” you’re naive to think no one would notice the way you’ve began to grind down on wooyoung’s cock, stealing whimpers out of him as the soaked lips of your pussy rubbed up against him and holding back your own moans each time his tip meets the bundle of nerves that make up your clit. “choi, if you’re that much of a pissy pants that can’t enjoy himself even just this once in life, then feel free to leave. i’m sure the four of us will be too occupied to notice your absence.”

you’re not paying close enough attention to figure out if san’s newfound silence is due to his departure, or if he’s simply too stunned to speak, your eyes focused on nothing and no one but the boy at your mercy.

the initial burn of wooyoung breaching your entry reminds you of how long it’s been since you’d been stretched open by something other than someone’s cold fingers or wagging tongue. it’s been more or less three long months of juggling test after test, assignments piling up on your desktop and a relationship with your now ex-boyfriend being tossed completely into the gutter.

not once had you thought your return to the world of sexual bliss would be in front of an audience, much less at the very place you work.

doubting that it’s been as long for him as it has for you, wooyoung still spares nothing when it comes to reacting to your touch. with eyes squeezing shut, head rolling back, abdomen muscles flexing along side every shaken intake of breath, the boy puts on a show so pornographic it puts the professionals to shame. a whine exits his lips, lips that carry marks of his own teeth and look like they’re in need of a healthy dose of chapstick, and look so disgustingly kissable that your own tingle at the thought.

all those rumours of jung wooyoung being a camboy rush to the forefront of your mind, feeling truer than ever when your eyes take in the bob of his adam’s apple, and the perfectly timed run of his tongue over his lower lip, and the pretty way in which the prominent veins in his hands looks as he clamps his grip down on your hips.

he’s a sight worth paying for.

“are you okay?” not the first thing you’d imagined saying after sinking all the way down on his cock, the need to check up on him taking over before you’d even noticed it’s existence.

“yeah...” he sighs his way through the word, eyes still closed and grip still very much tight on your skin, blunt fingertips likely leaving crescent moons you’ll find yourself staring at for days to come, memories of this moment replaying in a rose-tinted haze. “just need a second, you- you feel good, fuck me.”

“i’m kinda already doing that, youngie.” you giggle, like a lovesick adolescent speaking to their crush of the week, but the boy’s instant smile upon hearing it puts out the fire of shame building in the pit of your stomach.

“hmm,” he hums back, acknowledging your words without giving you the satisfaction of hearing him tell you how you’re correct. “are you okay?”

wooyoung flips the question on you and it parallels with the way he pulls the rains in physically, lithe hips thrusting upwards in search of feeling more, reaching deeper inside of you. in the back of your mind you already picture a look of displeasure on park seonghwa’s face, scowling lips loading up to berate you and demand you take repossession of jung wooyoung’s sanity.

“yeah, i’m-” with the eldest man in mind, you stop and compose yourself, as well as you can while wooyoung’s mouthing at your neck, your collarbones, the tops of your breasts. “i’m wondering who told you you were allowed to touch me?”

control is easily regained, all it takes is your hand squeezing around jung wooyoung’s throat and your soaked walls clenching around his aching cock and he’s melting like ice cream on a warm summer’s day, leaving behind a sticky mess.

satisfaction and pleasure come crashing in tandem, wave after wave moving in motion with each lethargic roll of your body against the swimmer’s, who seems to be a quicker learner than you’d believed him to be, hands flying off your body like it was made up of hot stones and, instead, now holding a firm and grounding grip of the bench beneath you both.

“harder.” you feel a hint of emotion within park seonghwa’s voice this time he speaks. it’s fleeting, and hard to make out quite what feeling it is he’s experiencing, but it’s there and it’s certainly a step up from the usual shameless, egotistical, megalomaniac tone he takes on. “squeeze his throat tighter.”

under the possession of his commanding tone, you find yourself caving into his command, fingers pressing a little harder into wooyoung’s warm skin. the boy gulps down whatever pride he has and delivers a pleasured whine. you grind down harder and an evil, twisted part of you you’ve never met before longs to laugh at the way he so desperately is struggling to keep his composure, fighting back the urge to meet your hips with his own upward thrusts.

so, you do.

“hear that, youngie?” seonghwa’s voice becomes less grating each time you hear it, once an unwelcome and intrusive thought but now a second voice and a valued player in a game of wreck the wooyoung. “you’re being laughed at. isn’t that just pathetic?”

“y-yes, fuck-” he falls victim to your walls clenching around him, gripping his cock in a vice grip. the image of confidence withers away so easily to reveal a teary-eyed, pretty-faced, cum-desperate man. “i’m pathetic.”

“yeah, you are.” seonghwa circles his way around the rocking bench, no longer out of view hidden behind your back but, instead, staring you down with piercing eyes that cut through you like a knife to hot butter. “he’s getting close. never lasts long, really, even seen him cum untouched just from giving me head. but that’s okay, isn’t it youngie? you’re a slut for having your sack drained, huh?”

the swimmer beneath you has never looked redder than he does right now, secrets of his sexual nature getting exposed to the people he likely considers his biggest athletic competition. though you probably should, you don’t push him away when his face finds safety in the crook of your neck, parted lips covering your burning skin in sticky drool.

“don’t let him fool you guys, he’s into the degrading nature of it all. trust me.” you wonder if it should concern you the way seonghwa speaks about jung wooyoung as though he’s nothing but a pet, a possession of which he just so happens to have complete control over. you’re more concerned with the fact it excites you. “call him a good boy, i dare you.”

the words haven’t even formed in your throat and the boy between your thighs is gripping onto your waist a little tighter, lips near pouting and eyes screwed shut in uncontrollable pleasure, burning down his spine and threatening to push him over the edge of sexual bliss.

you consider having mercy, the inexperienced side of you thinking the boy looks like he’s full of shame and embarrassment. the throbbing of his rock hard cock repeatedly stuffing your aching cunt reminds you he’s getting off on the humiliation.

“is he a good boy, though?” you stare up at park seonghwa, not even sparing a whimpering wooyoung any attention as he begins a rambled protest to defend his good behaviour. “i mean, i don’t remember telling him he could touch me. do you, hwa?”

the hands that grip you tightly let go quick, like your skin were an unexpectedly warm stove, scorching his skin right off him.

“i don’t remember either,” the eldest’s agreement has you reeling in a way you never expected, filling you with a new found sense of control.

a control that is ripped away far too quickly, like park seonghwa sensed you growing falsely confident over the situation at hand.

like a shark circling it’s prey, the tall man makes his way back around the bench, each fall of his shoe-covered feet echoing in the quiet swim hall. click, click, click, and he’s right at your back, not a word uttered as the soft of his palm lands on the nape of your neck. achingly slow does it travel down the expanse of your back, not a single noise filling the space other than the rise and fall of your body on top of wooyoung’s and the same boy’s poorly contained moans and mewls of pleasure.

the silence is interrupted by your own shocked gasp, mouth falling agape in shock as your movements come to a complete halt. his hands, no longer soft and delicate, grip you in an iron-tight hold, fingers greedy as they dig into your meaty flesh with no mercy or regard for the pain it may inflict on you.

“no, get up,” like a switch was flipped in as little as a minute, park seonghwa’s voice has lost all sense of the excitement it had whilst he spoke on jung wooyoung’s dirty endeavours and has returned back to the cold, callous, commanding tone it had originally.

he sounds angry, feels angry in the way the fingers of his free hand tangle themselves in the hair at the back of your head and give a harsh tug, forcing your head back till you’re met with his scowling face and perfectly groomed hair, even in it’s dampened state it seems to frame his face perfectly.

“what?” you babble out, dumbstruck, much like the desperate boy beneath you who’s began to mutter apology after apology between pleadings of please no don’t do this and i promise i’ll behave, i’ll keep my hands to myself.

none of it works.

“you heard me. get. up.” the fingers on your waist tug, pull, drag you away from the quivering mess that has become of jung wooyoung, who near sobs as the cool air hits his now painfully hard cock, tip redder than the bottom of your favourite heels and a vein more prominent under his sensitive skin than the ones on his muscular arms. you’re not given much of a chance to process what’s happening before seonghwa speaks again. “wooyoung, up, now. you’re not getting to cum, so get off the bench and make room for someone else.”

the boy makes no further attempt to protest, cheeks painted pink in shame and chest shining with sweat as he shakily rises to his feet, head hung low when you watch him walk out of your line of sight.

then, your knees meet the floor.

park seonghwa chuckles as you go down, hands finding grip in your hair and forcing you to sit up right. heart beating faster, your mind begins to race with questions of what comes next, who comes next.

what dirty desires are about to be unveiled within you, forced into the unforgiving fluorescent lights of the swimming hall?

“jeong, you’re up,” seonghwa’s knee digs into your back and his fingers tug until your scalp begins to sting a little. you don’t want to like it but, in life, you don’t always get what you want.

there’s a series of shuffles behind you, followed by heavy footsteps. there’s no rush, yet no hesitation, just calm and collected footsteps of someone making their way over to do god knows what with you.

when jeong yunho, with his towel that’s looking a lot tighter around his crotch still around his waist, steps into frame, an inexplicable sense of comfort washes over you.

maybe it’s the way he smiles down at you, or the fact his hands brush seonghwa’s off of you, or the way his fingers take a hold of your chin once he’s seated in front of you.

maybe it’s just the fact he’s jeong yunho, campus himbo with a reputation for walking girls home at night just to make sure they’re safe and for singing britney spears with no shame each time the karaoke mic gets passed around.

whatever it is, it’s turning you on.

your knees are burning with fresh pain as park seonghwa shoves you closer to the mammoth of a man and you can’t help but swallow down the ball of anxiety growing in your throat.

everything about jeong yunho’s demeanour has always seemed large, with powerful arms that drag his body through the weight of water and large hands that effortlessly carry countless textbooks through the university halls; a tall frame that helps him stand out in any crowd and a personality loud enough to set off alarms; his thighs a muscular stairway leading up to a well rounded, remarkably defined posterior. it’s safe to say he’s carried a reputation for some time, one that consists of whispers between girls on campus who recount just how well endowed he really is. 7 inches, 9 inches, 12 inches, you’ve heard it all, each girl claiming it to be bigger than the last.

unfortunately, there’s no ruler at your disposal to uncover the truth of the rumours, but you confirm he’s certainly large as you watch him undo the towel. larger than you’ve ever seen before, with a thickness to match, and two heavy looking balls decorating the base.

he wraps a hand around it and you watch how he gives a light squeeze at the head, slowly sliding down the length of it till he reaches the tuft of groomed hairs on his pelvic bone. one of his hands alone holds half of his cock, leaving you almost certain you’d need to use both hands on him.

“d’you want it, sweetheart?” his words are teasing but his voice is soft, a complete one-eighty to the verbal berating you’ve been receiving- and enjoying- from park seonghwa.

you’re sure he notices the way you clench your thighs as he slaps his cock once, then twice against his stomach, the precum leaking out on to his tanned skinned.

there’s an itch inside your throat, one you imagine only he can scratch.

“you wanna taste it?” he’s still speaking to you through the arousal that fogs over your brain, commanding your tongue to swipe over your bottom lip as you burn your gaze at the glistening liquid on his warm skin, tastebuds aching to have him paint them in white.

you nod your head.

his own throws itself back, a chuckle rupturing out of his chest as he continues to tease himself with his hand.

“fuck, yeah, bet you can’t wait to taste my cock, feel it stab the back of your tight throat.” a smile should never look so sweet while it’s part of the same mouth spewing out such filth. somehow, jeong yunho makes it work. “gonna get it nice and wet for me, yeah? make it sloppy, i love it when a pretty thing like you gets all messy over my cock.”

the knee that’s suddenly digging it’s way into your back has no mercy. you wince, pull in a sharp breath and inch just that little bit closer to the bench. like a glove fits a hand, you slip right in between the muscled tree trunks that make up jeong yunho’s thighs.

you wonder, if only momentarily, what sweet a death it would be to be crushed between them, taut muscles constricting the flow of air to your lungs like a boa with its prey.

but there’s a far more preferable way to be choked by the man before you, body carved out in such definition you fear michael angelo himself stands in admiration of it.

his hand snakes its way around your body, warm and heavy and imposing with the grip it settles for at the base of your neck. in spite of the sharp stab coming from behind- where you have no doubt one park seonghwa stands with disgruntled impatience written all over his irritatingly perfect face- there is no doubt in your mind that the man in front of you holds the reigns. with eyes of honey and lips of velvet, he peers down at you with a tendered expression, saying nothing yet everything with the gentle, repeated sooth of his thumb over your skin.

you need no verbal instructions this time around.

a hand grips the base of him as the other squeezes the flesh of your own thigh, piercing your skin with just enough pressure to assure you this is the reality you find yourself in, rather than some twisted, substance influenced dream.

the first taste is the sweetest, tongue a missionary sent into the foreign land of his body to discover the way he reacts as you drag it over the tip. he gives nothing but a squeeze to the back of your neck; and that crumbles you under his control.

with a few more kitten licks- for good luck, if anything,- the show begins with the parting of your lips, the widening of your mouth, the burning of your skin as you struggle with your ability to swallow him whole. you make it no further than a third of his length before he’s tugging gently on your roots and bringing you back to the surface of existence.

“breathe, okay,” his voice is gentle, calming your nerves yet sending your heart into a fit of patternless beats. “inhale, exhale, got it? through the nose, that’s gonna help you relax.”

doing as he says, you swallow three whole breaths. shaky, ragged, each feeling hollow in your chest in comparison to the weight of his cock on your tongue.

“pretty girl,” he practically coos, hand cupping your chin as his thumb smoothes over the swell of your bottom lip. it’s tender, sweet, and almost enough to make you forget the sight of his engorged cock that sits angrily between his tree-trunk shaped thighs, crying out for the return of your mouth’s affection. “someone’s gotta teach you to not be greedy, hmm? small little mouth of yours is no fit for me, don’t go choking on it.”

heat flashes between your thighs, your heartbeat dropping right down to your clit and leaving you with a burning ache, the kind only a gentleman like this could soothe. your fingers may have to do, however, if the stubborn arsehole behind you would be so kind as to let you enjoy yourself.

the way park seonghwa curls his hand round the front of your neck and flexes his nimble fingers- that goddamn family heirloom ring a punishing cold to your warm skin, near brandishing you as touched by some nepotism child- when you do so little as clench your thighs together to relieve the pressure, or lack-there-of, between your thighs tells you he’ll grant you no such fun.

“you’d need to have something big enough for her to choke on,” san, precious san. still here, still somewhere beneath this god-forsaken tin-can roof swimming pool, watching you bruise your knees and your ego for another man, another one of his team-mates. what must he think of you? has he lost whatever respect he may have had? does he think he’d been just another body to exchange fluids with, that night at the party? if you could just see his face, you’d not need to wonder all these things. his eyes, they always give him away, too earnest and pure for his own good.

“shut it, choi,” yunho’s bark isn’t half as loud as seonghwa’s booming commands have been, and are nowhere near as malignant. if anything, the gentle giant is humoured by his team-mate’s words, as if he knows they’re a preposterous thing to say about him. then again, you can’t imagine any man remaining humble about themselves if they were so well-endowed. “or do you wanna crack out the measuring tape again and remind yourself of just how much of me there is to choke on?”

silence.

it takes a few moments for the spotlight to return to you, a gradual shift from playful to lust driven energy encapsulating the broad frame of the man before. he cups your cheek, feather-light touch smoothing over your skin while his eyes burrow daggers into your soul.

why must his shoulders be so wide? it almost angers you as much as it sends a wave of heat between your legs.

almost, but not quite.

“‘s cute,” he half mumbles, distracted by the sight you paint below him on your knees, bruises already forming and thighs clenching for some relief of pressure. “your little pussy’s all wet just from having my cock in your mouth.”

“i think you’re forgetting she was bouncing on woo’s dick a few minutes ago, yunho,” the devil on your shoulder won’t let you rest, hand snaking through the threads of your hair and tugging on your roots. not enough to hurt, just enough to sting. “have some modesty.”

“sure, let’s act like i’m not the one who had her cumming all over my face a while ago.” san mumbles a string of words you wish you could unhear, face heating up as the shame burns through your bloodstream.

how had you gotten here?

you’re allowed no such freedom to ponder over previous actions as jeong yunho’s all encompassing frame works to remind you of where you find yourself: on your knees dressed in nothing but your own shame- shame which seems to slip off of you, piece by piece, baring you shamelessly to this pack of wolf-eyed boys’ for their eyes to feast upon.

strong, veiny hands reach out and drag you forwards, just an inch yet it’s all you need to feel the weight of park seonghwa’s domineering figure float off of you, rendering you under the control of this much larger, far smilier looking man. “eyes on me, okay? don’t wanna miss the way i’m about to make them roll back.”

there begins a game of push and pull, where jeong yunho pushes you closer and closer to his evident arousal, all the while teasing you as he pulls his hips back, keeping your waiting mouth open and empty, and oh-so frustrated at the feeling of being so close yet so far away from his dripping tip.

the first real taste you get of him does, in fact, nearly have your eyes rolling back. a kitten lick, barely there yet fully felt, running over the underside of his cock, a taste of salted skin, and musky sweat, and stale chlorine mixing in with the warmth of him flooding your senses. his reaction is no more composed than yours, blatantly parting his lips in a gasp and bucking his hips up, forwards, any direction they need follow to chase after your mouth.

happy to comply, you take pride in tasting him a second time, this time right over the growing drop of pre-cum pebbling on his tip. white flashes behind your closing eyes as his grip in your hair tightens, a pulse of heat firing straight down your spine as your mind floods with images of what it must be like to watch this man, this gentleman, this figure that so wholly encompasses what it means to be a himbo in this day and age lose his cool and revolt into his most carnal, basal instincts to take whatever pleasure he needs from you with a reckless abandon, burrow his throbbing cock down your throat till the beat of his heart takes over your own.

instead, you settle for wrapping your lips around him, at last, and letting him guide you just that little bit down his length. the weight of him feels nice, a strange sense of comfort birthing in your bones as you grow used to feel of him taking up your palate. his breaths seem to run in tandem with the inches he sinks deep between your parted lips.

a deep breath, he lowers you further, till your left cheek begins to bulge out.

tongue pinned to the floor of your mouth, you make use of it as best you can, rolling it over the bottom of his shaft and earning yourself a plethora of gratifying sounds, each deep and desperate and crooning straight out of jeong yunho’s broad chest.

another deep breath, another inch.

for all the false dominance you wield over the situation, with the heat of your mouth and spill of your own saliva slickening his cock, his real and visceral dominance doubles it by tenfold, with a hand on the back of your neck, guiding your every move, and a knowing, gentle look cast downwards at you from where he sits propped on the bench, thighs a heavy mass to case your body between. a silly little voice in your head whispers a seductive tale of how easily this man could get you in a headlock and suffocate your fragile windpipes. a wave of heat, this one going right down to your core and forcing you to pay attention to it, shifting awkwardly and clenching the muscles in your own legs in hopes of getting some pitiful amount of pressure.

all breathing stops as he hits the back of your throat.

hands pulling tight, a biting pain ripping through your hair and a tired gag creeping out of your constricting throat, yunho holds you still and strong, as unmoving as the mountains that fill the horizon from your bedroom window.

he’s not even fully in, an arguably obscene amount of him still awaiting some form of attention beyond the spill of the spit filling up your mouth. but there’s nowhere for it to go, not within your mouth at least, and so you manoeuvre your hand up and grip the neglected inches, the tip of your pinkie teasingly brushing over the swell of his balls.

he lurches forward, gasping in a breath of air at last. “fucking christ- shit,” he grits his teeth. “her mouth’s warm.”

“well, obviously. this your first time getting a blowjob or something, jeong?” god, the reminder of seonghwa being here, somewhere behind you, fox eyes judging your every move and keeping his cool, no matter how hard you’d seen his cock straining in those ridiculous pant-suit trousers he sports. it’s sickening.

“yeah, yunho, watch out before you have a repeat of 2019.”

if the taller jeong wants to snap at the other, you never find out, instead dedicating yourself to the glory of worshipping him between your parted lips and tight throat, jaw ready to lock itself in place so long as it keeps him inside.

you treat him differently than you’d treated san that night. you’d been tipsy then, buzzing off the colourful shots of who-knows-what you’d been conned into downing a half hours before, mind hazy as you kneeled between him and teased your tongue over every crevice of him it could reach, dripping him in drool and working an ache into your overused tongue by the time you got watched him spill over the edge of ecstasy. that wasn’t even about san’s pleasure, no real care put into getting him off, your own selfish need to indulge in the pleasure of feeling, tasting, worshipping him taking precedence.

but, right now, you’re overwhelmingly sober, mind hazed only by a cloud of inexplicable lust that rolled in the moment san shot you his stupid smile, and you care about making jeong yunho cum. in fact, it’s the only thing on your mind as you bob your head up and down, letting his own hand guide your pace.

“shh, shh,” he’s hushing your own struggles for breath and carding his fingers through the tresses of your hair, his legs clamping down on either side of you, pinning you in your rightful place. “taking it so good, baby. so fucking good.”

good’s not good enough.

you want to leave him mind-blown, exhausted, unhinged. you want him clenching his jaw, and baring his teeth, and stuttering over any praise he tries to give you. in fact, you need it, need that thrill-driven lust of collapsing the sanity of a man as broad and strong and capable as him.

so you pick up the pace, fight against the steady up-and-down of his grip and try to take just that little bit more of him in your mouth and down your throat, till you’ve no doubt there’s a visible bulge of where he sits down your windpipe. you think back on what he said- i love it when a pretty thing like you gets all messy over my cock- and work towards doing just that, mouth a fountain of over-flowing spit that paints lines down your chin and over his heavy balls. the hand at his base lightly drags the tips of its nails over his burning skin and you physically feel the way his cock jumps in your mouth, head twitching as his hips involuntarily jolt forwards.

eyes as wide as a deer in headlights, you glance up to stare into his own, only to find they’re rolling back in his head, too caught up in the headiness of having your mouth on him to visually focus. it’s erotic, tracing your eyes over the protruding vein in his neck and the unrhythmic heaving of his chest- like every breath he pulls is a rare gift and a miracle- and the straining of his muscled thighs that hold back his urge to buck freely into your mouth, use you as nothing but a hole to get himself off with.

your free hand stakes claim over your own sexual frustration, nimble fingers rubbing tight, slow circles over your clit in an attempt to just ease that heat burning you from the inside out.

“she’s touching herself, jeong,” not even the irritating, grating voice of park seonghwa’s unwanted commentary can take away the kick you’re getting out of working this man into a frenzy. “are you just going to let her, without your permiss-”

“shut up, park,” yunho is wrecked, voice divulging so far from that loud, boyish charm into a dark, broken sort of gruffed out thing, echoing straight out of his chest. but, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t listen to the other man, doesn’t force his eyes open to glance down in a hazed daze to witness your pathetic attempts to work your fingers over yourself.

only, he doesn’t tell you to stop.

he just... watches. and then smiles, squeezes out what can only be described as a broken whine, and tilts his head back once more, relinquishing all control of his body over to you. the scene divulging into a chorus of mumbled words, fuck and please and yes becoming the only word yunho knows, the only three you hear.

only as he cums does jeong yunho regain that bit of self-control he’s lost, ripping your mouth off him- a stuttered mumble of i wanna paint that pretty face- and erupting in a mess of grunted moans, cock twitching in his palm as rope after rope of white, hot fluid shoots out of it. it’s messy, and disgusting, and sticky, marking the skin on your cheeks, nestling in your hair, dripping over your shut eyelashes.

the last drops land in your parted mouth as his grasp shakes and you regain the right to wrap your lips around his mushroomed tip.

lips stained in pearly white, cheeks and neck matching too. the throb of your neglected cunt, clenching itself around nothing but the mere thought of having jeong yunho stuff you full, break you in two and leave you spent.

the man in question is in a no better state, head thrown back and chest a heaving mess glistening with the shine of his own sweat. his mouth hangs open, near heaving in breaths of air and his hands, adopting a mind of their own, grip harder in your hair and hold you firmly in place, tongue laving over his sensitive tip, pushing him closer and closer to the ledge of overstimulation.

“fuck- uh, fucking look at you,” sweet voice, foul words. two fingers drag over your cheek, coating themselves in the sticky substance he’s painted you in. “drooling all over me.”

he’s right, you are drooling. down your chin, an uncomfortable damp coat covers your overheating skin as you continue to stretch your lips around his length, ready to rip another thigh-shuddering orgasm out of the man.

yunho grants you no such pleasure.

instead, a grip tugs back on your hair and, before you can feebly attempt to catch your fleeing breath, he’s pulling you up into his lap, straddling you across the well-defined muscles of his thigh. those big, capable hands he pushes himself through pools, and rivers, and all other bodies of water manipulate your limbs however he likes, a rag-doll free for him to toy with for as long as he sees fit.

“yun-” you don’t even manage to say his name properly, not when he grinds you down into his lap, smothering his tanned skin in your juices. the friction runs straight for your pulsing clit and you’re rendered to sinking into his welcoming arms, head collapsing into the crook of his neck, parted lips panting up a storm against his sweated skin.

“that nice for you, angel?” the soft words, the rough hands, the perfect roll of your hips. you feel like you could sob, break apart completely. yunho tracing a hand up the curve of your spine and soothing his long fingers over a knot in you back doesn’t help your case. “bet it is. little bit of release to all that tension you’ve been feeling, yeah?”

you think you nod.

it’s hard to tell.

sparks fly within your loins, heating you from the inside out. yunho, at some point, has wound his fist into the tresses of your hair, nails scrapping along your scalp. it’s pleasurable, all over, soothing you into a state of utter relaxation, a being with no purpose other than to take whatever this mass of warmth and muscles and width offers you.

his hand makes a fist and gently tugs, forcing a whine out of you as you’re faced with the bright lights once more. traces of his own cum stain the very place your face had lay. it’s erotic to see, drying up your tongue with a need to lick it clean.

“no, no, focus, right here,” a single finger taps at your cheek, followed by the tilting of your chin that forces you to stare back at the hungry eyes of jeong yunho. “eyes on me. want a front row seat to watching your eyes roll back.”

god, he’s filthy, and delicate, and that just makes him all that more filthy.

swiping his digits through the remnants of his sticky cum, he makes sure you’re staring right back at him as those same fingers snake their way down between your grinding bodies and burrow themselves deep in your soaked heat. shallow pumps of his hand fuck his cum-coated fingers deeper, long and lithe enough he barely needs to move to have you feeling him all over, everywhere.

by the time he curls them, pressing against that spongy wall, you’re just about ready to cry.

“think she’s gonna cum,” oh god, no, why must he remind you of your audience? why does it no longer frighten you to have eyes watching you be defiled but, rather, have you clenching around him tighter, chasing that fever-like ecstasy the man means to deliver? “she’s gripping my fingers so tight- shit, almost makes me wanna bust my load just thinking how warm her pussy would feel round my cock.”

“don’t let her cum,” you vow, some day, to wring the neck of park seonghwa. “just cause she’s gone all cockdrunk doesn’t mean she’s earnt-”

“shut up, hwa,” the boy’s thumb pokes up and you can’t help the way you grind down into it, smothering your clit in whatever pressure you can get. “pretty baby’s more than earned it. stop being bitter that i’m the one who’s gonna give her it.”

give you it, he does.

three fingers deep, the cocktail of your wetness mixing with his cum-cated digits aiding the ebb and flow of his rhythm, jeong yunho has your toes curling, eyes rolling, thighs shaking. you blackout, for only a moment, lost in the wilderness of pleasure.

the aftershocks are barely kicking in when you’re suddenly ripped away from yunho’s hold. the sounds of your beating heart and heaving chest muffle the disgruntled exchange of words between the swim-team, inhibiting your ability to stay clued-in on the events that surround you. all you know is that when your body meets the bench once more, on all wobbly fours, jeong yunho no longer sits tall and proud.

a sharp sting hits your rear- a smack, that echoes in the empty space of the swimming hall. the only appropriate response is the shriek you let out, twisted in your own conflicting emotions of pain, and pleasure, and painful pleasure. a second smack meets the other cheek. this time, there’s no doubt a wanton whine escapes you.

“since the rest of them can’t take orders,” you’d already known it was seonghwa whose hands were suddenly all over you, pinning you in a position of submission. the sound of his grandiose voice sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine, top to tail. “i’ll have to do it myself.”

with no word of warning, he smooths his hands down the globes of your ass, teases the crease of skin where your inner thigh meets your dripping heat, and fucks two whole fingers into your sensitive core. knuckles deep, they sit still upon initial intrusion, basking in the warmth of you and coating themselves in the essence from an orgasm you’ve yet to even fully recover from and the cum yunho’d scooped off your own face.

then, at last, when your nails dig marks into the wood below, he curls them a come-hither motion.

with shame painted on your skin, you toss your head back and release an inhumane cry, eyes hazily gazing up at the horrendous white lights above. “oh god!”

“not quite. i do appreciate the flattery though,” there’s no need to glance over your shoulder to know that pompous, trust-fund baby is wearing the most earth-shattering smirk, some stupid strand of his perfectly groomed hair dangling over one of his eyes, like some 90s heartthrob boy-band member. you do it anyway.

park seonghwa is an unfairly attractive man, sporting a beauty so ethereal it almost makes you angry.

that anger seems to dampen the wetter he gets you.

his touch is slow, but by no means is it gentle. calculated and malevolent, he plays with your insides like they’re nothing but the strings to your puppet. a curl of his fingers and one of your hands shoots forward. the torturously slow pace that he pumps his digits in and out, and your jaw falls slack. his thumb bumps and grinds against your throbbing clit, and your elbows give out, sending you crashing face-first down onto the bench.

his free hand presses down on your lower back, bending you deeper, hiking your ass up higher in the air. and, at first, you think you’re imagining it, that trickle of warmth against your other entrance, believing it nothing but a trick of your melting brain.

you’re who-knows how many hours deep in a whirlwind of pleasure and penetrative stares, people have been driven to the brink of insanity over far less in the past.

but then seonghwa’s fingers leave your cunt, warm and wet trails following their journey over your skin. there’s no imaginative mind great enough in this universe to conjure up that initial shock to feeling how he prods and pokes at your puckered hole, lubricating it with the dirty mixture of both you and yunho’s cum and his very own spit.

the tip of his pointer finger ventures onward first, breaking through the surface of your tight muscles in a shallow intrusion.

the feeling has you frozen, frightened, intrigued. eyes widening, moans dying, pussy pulsating in an empty need.

“don’t go getting shy on us now, spitfire,” the collective language he uses brings back the weight of all the boys’ eyes on you. hesitantly, you angle your face off the bench, and regret it the instant you meet the brown comfort of his eyes. “fun’s just starting. ain’t that right, san?”

a tense energy takes over the large room, with san’s shoulders tensing, and yunho’s feet fidgeting, and wooyoung’s cheeks blushing. seonghwa seems impervious to the shift, whether voluntarily or not, and instead invites himself to further exploring the limits of your body.

he’s kind enough to spare a bit of care into the way his finger sinks deeper into your unexplored hole. another dribble of his hot saliva lands messily onto you, aiding the slip and slide of his hand. two, or three, or four strokes of his finger and you’re submitting to the intrusion, hips rutting higher and presenting yourself more to the man.

“come here,” the command calls over your body and, at first, you think its aimed at you. so you try scooting further back, only to be halted by seonghwa speaking once again. “yeah you, choi. come get under her.”

for the first time since this all began, you’re on the precipice of saying no.

they’d listen, all of them. wouldn’t push you, pressure you or force you to keep going, not if you truly voiced your negation. even park seonghwa, as big an arsehole as he may be, would have no qualms ending his fun and agreeing to never speak of this again.

and it’s not that you don’t want choi san under you. far from it, as you’ve already made pretty clear earlier, thighs his personal ear-warmers while his tongue delved deep for your honey-suckle glory. you’re hardly uncomfortable at the thought of him under you, chest rising repeatedly in frantic breaths and legs bent at the knee to give him just the right leverage to fuck up into your messy cunt-

it’s not till he’s three feet away from you, hands fidgeting by his side, eyes looking anywhere but you and your compromising position, and the world’s most obnoxiously boner-strained tent in his swimming gear that realisation washes over you. you’re hesitating because of him, because of his possible discomfort.

what if he wants to say no? what if he doesn’t want to get under you? what if his eyes will never look into your own again, too shocked and disgusted by all the things you’ve let be done to you? by his own team-mates/rivals, too?

hell, you’ve shocked yourself even, never in a million years had you pictured a day you’d be at the mercy of some rich prick, overdressed for every occasion and looking like a vogue-cover-model reject. but when he’s edging another finger into the already-tight squeeze of your ass, and pushing your buttons just enough to nudge you towards an edge that never seems to arrive, how could you ever dream of being anywhere else?

a hand touches your cheek.

soft. tender. it takes the extra time to soothe the pads of its fingers against your burning cheek.

“you feeling okay?” san’s quiet tone, meant only for you, is enough to move you to near-tears. you crave his hug. the position you find yourself in only allows you to reach out and grasp at where his knee bends as he crouches down to your level. it’s all the same, san knows. san understands. his own hand lands on top of yours, messily threading digits.

“she’s literally stuffed with another man’s cum and you’re worried about her? well aren’t you just the sweetest.” a cheap remark from seonghwa.

san purposefully ignores it, and everything about the man, instead choosing to keep his focus on what matters.

you.

“think you could make some room for me down there?” your nose wrinkles at his choice of words.

his giggle echoes.

“no, no, not... like that,” he guides you as he talks, grip moving to your shoulders and coaxing you up into a seating position. somewhere along the way, seonghwa’s hands leave you. he doesn’t stray too far, however, and your back soon collides against his chest. “here, pretty. want you to make space for me down here.”

within seconds, choi san’s back in his rightful place: splayed out beneath you, body fit snug between your parted legs and hair an unruly, sweated mess against his forehead.

no clothing sits between you both, blessing you with the mouthwatering drag of his cock through your folds. hard, and red, and leaking at the tip, a slight curve to the right, dribbling precum against his well-toned stomach. you’re biting your lip before you fully register your own thoughts, body a mind of its own as you grind down onto him.

control is limited and fleeting, that of which seonghwa reminds you without uttering so much as a word. instead, he clamps a harsh grip down on either side of your hips, rucks you up to where he needs you and guides you down onto san’s cock.

it’s thick, imposing and something that seonghwa blesses you no time to ease into things. instead, you’re slammed down, san buried to the hilt inside of you.

“hey there,” delicate fingers skim up the tense muscles in your thigh and find pleasure in delivering a teasing tickle to your sides. “come here often?”

the cheeky grin, the double entendre, the way san looks so goddamn proud of himself for saying it. you can’t help it, you wind up giggling uncontrollably.

wrong choice. bad idea. danger zone.

san contorts in pain, and lust, and something else you’ve never seen behind his eyes before, hissing through his teeth like some feral cat. his eyes match that of a feline too. “you trying to squeeze my dick off or something?”

you compose yourself upon the reminder of that san can feel you tensing around him, pull in a deep breath and find your voice again, at last. “or... something.”

maybe you’re a little out of breath. maybe you’re a little hoarse. it doesn’t seem to matter to the boy below, his only response being to cant his hips up and lick at the fire burning in your insides.

“you two are disgusting,” once again, park seonghwa wins gold in the nobody-asked-for-you-bum-ass-opinion olympics. let’s see if he’ll continue his winning streak and go for gold in the hypocrite-athon too!

the hands on your sides begin you guide you, with seonghwa squeezing his perfectly manicured nails into your plush skin and bouncing you down onto san. up, down, up and down, repeated strokes like the ones their hands deliver each time they breach the surface.

it’s easy, this pleasure. it’s a gift, hand-delivered by two god-like men that sandwich you between them- one a mass that fills you, the other a weight that controls you. liberating in every sense, you can’t help the way your head rolls back to find purchase on one of seonghwa’s shoulders, completely melting into the ways he winds you over san.

“shit, yes, you feel,” san’s no better than you, mouth agape and hands unsteady as they trace every inch of skin they can reach: the dimples of your back, the swell of your breasts, the hood of your clit. his hips are the only steady thing about him, not a falter in the way they grind up to kiss your dripping pussy with his cock. “so good. so warm, tight. love it.”

a hand curls round your front, travels up between your breast and over your sternum. it settled for a grip a round your throat, no pressure applied, it simply exists against your windpipe, a silent threat.

“look what you do to him, hmm,” a squeeze around your neck. seonghwa’s warm breath fans against your ear, taunting you. “look what you’re doing to them.”

through your glossed-over gaze, you trail your way past the sight of san and all his captivating beauty, settling instead on the equally erotic, not-at-all surprising image that stands just past where his head rests at the edge of the wooden bench.

a sweaty wooyoung, bent at the waist and whining up a storm, while a far more composed yunho pounds his hips into the boy’s arse.

your walls clench and san whimpers, a string of curses and pleads leaving him.

“think you’re finally ready for me?” the devil on your shoulder- at your back, more truly,- smirks into your skin, careless enough to not even feign it being anything but a rhetoric question. ready or not, park seonghwa is going to finally get his own fill of the thrill, his own satisfaction, beyond mere observation and controlling.

the spill of your own wetness slips down your thighs as san continues to fuck himself deep. it doesn’t travel far as seonghwa coats himself in you, wetting his fingers before they slip back inside your ass. a few generous, tempting pumps into your ring of muscles, fingers spreading a little further apart each time, till he decides that’s enough, he’s ready, you’re ready.

the unbuckling of a belt.

an unzipping of trousers.

trousers bunched down muscled thighs.

the first cut may be the deepest, but you highly doubt it’s as deep as seonghwa feels feeding his cock into your arse, stretching you apart to make way for him. a part of you feels like it can’t breathe, impaled on both these men who sit so deep inside you, you fear you’ll feel the ghost of their touch for weeks to come.

but what does it matter, really, when seonghwa pulls you back against him and whispers filth against your ear?

this is all you’re good for. cock-drunk whore. gonna let us cum inside?

and san’s coaxing you down to trail his mouth over your chest, the tongue flicking over your nipple a terrible juxtapose to his crooning words?

taking it so well, baby. so tight, and perfect, and god. ‘s that what baby needs, huh, for me to touch her little clit?

the two men find a rhythm, a synchronised routine to how they pull and push you around. their thrusts ebb and flow, no moment existing where you sit empty. they treat your body like they treat the pool, swimming through your waves of pleasure and effortlessly advancing to the finishing line, the winning stroke. then, san’s hand meets your cheek and your thoughts are dragged underwater, muffling the sounds of everyone else- the shlickt sound that echoes with each inch of cock fucked into you, the high-pitched whimpers of a fucked out wooyoung, the slapping of skin against skin- as he pulls you in for a kiss.

it’s a hungry one, all teeth and tongue and swollen lips. you pull away more breathless than before and fighting back a big dopey grin, toes curling as the swell of one of their cocks hits a nice spot inside you, body too on fire to know just exactly where the new wave of heat is coming from.

“h-how d’you do it, hm?” it’s almost a whisper, something meant only for your ears, yet you hear him loud and clear, voice stuttering off in a mess of whines and moans. “still got that pretty-girl smile, even while getting fucked silly.”

it almost makes you shy, till you remember what you’re doing and who you’re doing it with. you settle for a quick, short answer. mostly because you fear you’re losing the ability to think in full-sentences, much less speak one out loud. “can multitask.”

like your own words are the key to pandora’s box, your eyes widen, and your mouth dries, and your heart reels as a new desire burrows itself somewhere between the parts of you owned by san and the parts owned by seonghwa. the desire makes room for more, for someone more, and, without much chance for second-thoughts or hesitation, you find what little stability you can manage with one hand pressing down onto san’s toned chest and reach forward with your free hand.

fingers, light as a feather, curl around wooyoung’s solid shaft. the man’s hips stutter at the unexpected contact, eyes flying open to glance down in time to watch you reach out your tongue, licking up the droplets of precum that threaten to spill from his mushroomed tip.

“please, god, please!” he’s beyond the point of sense, poor baby, struggling to keep up with yunho’s hips’ repeated slamming into his tight ass. so, you can’t really blame him or shame him for the way he hastily rips his hand through your hair, tugging your mouth as far down his cock as the angle allows.

a few hairs rip from your skull in his grip. you reward him with a pleasant hum, moans muffled with the mouth-full he’s providing you.

“shit- look at that,” seonghwa pipes up from behind you, the motion of his hips never faulting or failing as he continues to take part in the filthiest three-way tango known to man, hands bouncing you down to meet each raise of san’s hips, plundering the other man’s cock deep, deep, deep, till he’s kissing your cervix and you’re seeing stars before your eyes. “should cup youngie’s- fucking christ- his balls, san, cup ‘em.”

you’re vaguely aware of his compliance, hand lifting off whatever part of you it was touching- your nipple, your hip, your jaw, it’s hard to tell when you feel like san’s everywhere, all over you, part of you- to graze the set of well-groomed spheres that threaten to slap your chin each time wooyoung thrusts forward.

barely two seconds, hardly any pressure against them, and the youngest of the four is nearly in tears, wailing and begging over broken whines that it’s too much, can’t take it, don’t stop.

there’s a ringing in your ear. because everything is becoming too much: wooyoung in your mouth, san rutting up into you and seonghwa’s hands clawing and pulling your body back into each of his overpowered thrusts. the boy in front of you is the first to fall apart, twitching in your mouth and, without a warning, choking you on the cum he shoots down your throat. a hand pulls you back, just enough to paint your face in the final drops released from wooyoung.

one of the other men is next, a string of curses and grunts filling the air. there’s a new stickiness between your legs, gooey white staining your skin. it’s all building up, and up, and up, until you topple over and are sent reeling into wave after wave of blinding pressure, toes cramping up and muscles spasming as you shoot off into another astral field, creaming around san and chocking seonghwa’s cock.

you don’t register the release of your hips nor the crash-down of your body. one moment, you’re pressed back against seonghwa, mouth dropped open in a silent scream for merciless pleasure, and the next you’re cradled in san’s warm embrace, a crooning tone to the way he hushes and calms you, unheard i got yous, and did so good for us, babys, and just let me hold yous falling on deaf ears.

for a moment in your own history, time ceases to exist.

there’s no ticking of the large clock on the wall, reminding you of how long ago your shift had ended. there’s no thoughts of your plant friend drying out in the staleness of your room, desperately awaiting you to revive it with some h2o. there’s no consequences awaiting your actions, no shame to be feared and leaving you unable to look any of the four swimmers in the eye ever again.

instead of being crashed against choi san’s body, a mixture of his, yours, and several other people’s bodily fluids serving as the adhesive that keeps you stuck together in your mess, you’re floating in space, not quite alive but not quite dead, just there.

nerves tingling, body aching, mind switched off.

four, or five, or ten, maybe even fifteen minutes pass by the time you regain focus on your surroundings.

your name, whispered. it’s his voice that pulls you back, sweet and soft and oh so like the san you’re used to, the one that sends teasing winks your way when your eyes happen to meet his in class, and the one who has the prettiest notes you’ve ever seen, a colour-scheme for his every highlight and the cutest of doodles to go along with the topic on the paper.

the one who’s hand is currently brushing through your hair, fingers careful as they catch on the tangles near the split ends.

“hmm,” you swear you want to say his name, say more than that, but there’s an ache in your jaw that hinders you from even attempting, your voice-box likely having taken a beaten in the throws of your pleasured moans.

“you okay there?” he giggles over the end of the sentence, and you feel your slowing heartbeat stutter at the sound.

he feels you nod into the crook of his neck and lets his free hand find perch against your hip, moments before giving it a light squeeze.

he’s warm, and pleasant, and soft.

and moving you both into an up-right position, hands splaying flat against your back and keeping you secure against him, your legs wrapping around his slender waist. you drift off again, between time and space, and come to at the first drop of water that lands on your back.

one drop, two drops, and then a downpour of heat crashing onto both of you.

you can tell from the colour of the pinkish tiles along the communal shower floor that you’re in the women’s changing room, and mentally note to thank him, even if he’s not aware, for bringing you somewhere you won’t have to shamefully stumble out of in the nude, your change of clothes safely tucked away within one of the lockers.

“i’m gonna put you down now, okay?” he speaks so gently that it overwhelms you, answering him only with an affirmative nod of your head.

neither of you speak while he lathers shampoo into your hair, nor when he’s dragging his soap covered hands over the cum that stains your skin, wiping it away and leaving nothing but suds where the liquid once was. he doesn’t speak while covering your eyes with his hands, blocking the sting of the shampoo. you don’t speak when you inch closer, head falling forward to rest against his chest.

when he does eventually speak again, both of your fingertips are wrinkled and bodies are clean, the water of the shower serving as nothing but a way to keep warm.

“you’re, uh, not” the echo of his voice in the empty lockers feels so much more intimate than how his cries sounded by the pool. “doing anything on wednesday, right?”

too lazy to move, you angle your face to stare up at him from his chest and take a moment to just stare, look at the way his hair is sticking to his forehead, at the way his eyes are back to being wide, at the way the marks you’d littered along his neck are becoming more prominent.

“how’d you know?” your question confirms his own, and a tenseness you’d not noticed melts off of his shoulders.

“wednesday is race day. you never work race days.”

it’s such an odd detail to have noticed, and it’s making you question everything you thought you knew about your relationship with san. do acquaintances remember each other’s schedules? do acquaintances bring each other soothing teas when they notice the other developing flu symptoms? do acquaintances waste time pulling faces at each other in lectures they should probably be paying attention to.

“i’m not taking part in the race this time, by choice. my grades are good enough, don’t need to worry about winning some championship to keep my education.” san is speaking unpromptly at this point, rambling in a way you’ve only seen him do when he’s nervous, or excited, or both. “it’s okay if you don’t want to, or you have better things to do or places to be! but, i was just thinking, maybe you’d wanna spend some time with me? there’s this medieval market down on main-street, it’s meant to be really cool, and i just think it would be even cooler to go with you? but, again, you don’t have to. forget it, actually, i’m being stupid and assuming you’re not doing something with your friends or your-”

the kiss you interrupt him with is far more innocent than the one you shared earlier, no hands rushing to touch and tongues desperate to taste, just two sets of lips moving as one.

you pull back and he chases after you, lips landing another peck before you’re grasping his cheek in your hold and forcing him back.

“i think you could have asked me to come help clean your apartment for you and i’d still say yes, just to spend my day with you,” you say, and he smiles as if on instinct, unable to stop it even if he tried.

“really?”

“really.”

“good, cause i already bought us two tickets and i really didn’t wanna have to go alone.” there’s drops of water dancing on his eyelashes, and laziness in his every movement, and you’re both still very much naked, but none of that seems to matter when he gives you another peck, like he’s awakened an addiction and your lips are now his favourite vice. “but, now that you mention it, my apartment could do with some cleaning. and i bet you’d look amazing in a maid outfit.”

a slap echoes in the showers.

“hey! don’t worry, i’ll be wearing a matching one!”

#ateez smut #park seonghwa smut #jeong yunho smut #choi san smut #jung wooyoung smut #ateez oneshot

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