#one more week before i can just expect like. contact for scheduling not even just an appointment OUGH

[tainsan]

opposites attract.

↳synopsis: you are on the verge of being expelled, so your teacher helps you find a tutor, yet what you weren't expecting was much more than just tutoring sessions.

↳ word count: 14.3k

↳ a/n: i know this isnt misfits or misfits related but i wanted to give you guys something whilst you wait for the next chapter. i havent been active due to a majot burnout, but im getting into the swing of it again. I hope you enjoy this one shot whilst you wait for the next chapter <3

↳ warnings: fem bodied reader, mentions of alcohol, explicit smut, fingering, oral (f rec), unprotected sex (wrap it pls), gn pronouns but Yunho calls reader a good girl.

MINORS DNI 18+ CONTENT AHEAD

"Expelled, what do you mean?" you exclaim, the words of your professor hitting you like a sudden, unwelcome storm.

Your professor leans forward, her expression grave. "If you don’t make a change," she replies, her tone weighted with concern. "Your recent academic performance has been far from ideal, and it's no secret that you'd rather be out partying and socialising than studying. I've tried to advocate for you for the past few months, but even the student council is beginning to lose faith. You need to make a change, or else they will remove you from this program."

The news leaves you feeling torn. You have always been drawn to the vibrant social scene on campus, and it was no secret that you enjoy a good party. Balancing your studies with your social life has been a constant struggle, and it has finally caught up with you in the form of this dire warning.

Taking a deep breath, you try to gather your thoughts, your mind a whirlwind of confusion. "I don't know what to do, though," you admit, your voice tinged with both desperation and uncertainty.

Professor Turner fixes her gaze on you, her expression stern yet caring. Her half-moon glasses perch on the edge of her nose lends an air of wisdom to her appearance. She had always been one of the few teachers who genuinely believed in your potential, even if you hadn't quite lived up to it yet. 

She leans forward slightly, her eyes locked on yours. "You can start by addressing that persistent partying issue," she says, her tone deadpan but not without a hint of exasperation. "I've always seen your talent, but it's time for you to believe in it too. My patience for you is wearing thin, and the threat of expulsion is very real. You need to get your studies together, and fast."

Her words strike a chord, and bow your head down, tears starting to form in your eyes. The urgency of the situation finally sinks in, and you know it is time to make a change. 

Professor Turner's expression softens, and she leans back in her chair, understanding the turmoil in your eyes. "I know it can be challenging to balance both, but it's essential. Perhaps you can establish a more structured study schedule and limit your social activities during the week.”

Looking up at her, you notice the warmth and unwavering belief in her eyes, which provides a glimmer of hope amidst your uncertainty. 

She continues, "In fact, I found a tutor for you. Someone had to cancel on him at the last minute, and he's willing to take you on until your grades improve. He’s an incredibly sweet person, his grades are the best in my class."

Although you would rather avoid any study sessions or anything to do with your university academics, you reluctantly take the paper showcasing the number of the tutor your professor found for you. The paper displays the name "Jeong Yunho" along with his contact number. You have never heard of him before, which was unusual considering you considered yourself as a social butterfly who knew nearly everyone on campus. It occurred to you that there truly was a first time for everything.

As you held the paper, a sense of curiosity overcame your reluctance. You pondered the mystery behind this unknown tutor and wondered what kind of person Jeong Yunho was. 

—

Clutching your bag tightly under your arm, you reluctantly made your way towards the library on a Friday evening. With every step, you grumbled to yourself, yearning to be at a lively party instead, drowning your sorrows about the looming threat of expulsion. The future seemed bleak, and hope was a distant memory. When you left Professor Turner's office earlier, you almost crumpled the paper she had given you, fully intent on disregarding any contact with whoever the hell Yunho is.

The journey to the library is slow, partly because you have never set foot in the place before, and partly due to your resistance against the impending academic endeavour. You had never planned on being a library regular; it wasn't part of your college vision. Yet, the harsh reality of the potential consequences weigh heavily on your mind. Losing your education at this point would not only set you back years but also jeopardise all the hard work you have invested to even make it to this esteemed school in the first place.

With every reluctant step, you can’t help but reflect on the choices that have led you here. It was time to face the music, find this enigmatic Yunho, and see if, against all odds, he held the key to salvaging your academic future. 

Pushing open the heavy wooden doors of the university library, you're immediately greeted by the familiar scent of aged books and hushed whispers. The soft lighting casts a warm glow over the rows of shelves filled with knowledge, and you can't help but feel out of place in this quiet atmosphere. You've rarely ventured into this sanctuary of academia, and your lack of familiarity is evident as you scan the cavernous space, unsure of where to start

Stepping further into the library, your frustration and reluctance grow. You have little idea of who you're even looking for. The notion that Yunho might be some stereotypical "nerd-looking" guy briefly crosses your mind, and you can't help but feel a twinge of guilt for the shallow assumption.

After several minutes of wandering the labyrinthine aisles, you find yourself standing in the centre of the library, defeated and ready to give up on this wild goose chase. You can't even muster the energy to be disappointed; you're too focused on your own internal battle between academic responsibilities and your desire for the social scene.

Just as you turn to head for the exit, your hasty retreat is halted by an unexpected and rather forceful collision. You practically bump into a broad, solid chest that seemingly appears out of nowhere. Startled, you stagger back a step, nearly dropping the papers that you have clenched in your hand.

Looking up, you're met with the sight of a tall man, much taller than you. The first thing you notice is his thick black-framed glasses perched on his nose, giving him a rather studious appearance. However, his eyes sparkle with warmth and curiosity, and his friendly, wide smile catches you off guard.

"I'm sorry," you stammer, feeling flustered by the unexpected encounter.

The man's voice is deep and soothing and light-hearted as he replies, "No need to apologise. Are you looking for someone, or can I help you find a book or something?"

You hesitate for a moment, unsure if you should reveal your purpose in the library. But the kindness in his eyes and the genuine desire to assist make you decide to share. "Actually, I'm trying to find someone named Yunho. I was told he could help me with my studies."

His smile widens, his eyes scrunching in the process, and he extends a hand in greeting. "Yunho, at your service. It's nice to meet you."

You shake his hand, feeling a mix of surprise and relief. Yunho is not what you had expected, and the moment you assumed he'd be a stereotypical "nerd" is now a distant memory. As you look into his friendly eyes, a sense of hope and optimism begins to replace the frustration and doubt that had plagued you earlier.

"You're Yunho?" you ask, a hint of surprise in your voice, as he begins to lead you towards where it appears he was sitting.

"Yes, is it hard to believe?" Yunho responds, a slight nervousness in his tone. "I can get my ID out if you're sceptical." He quickly reaches into his pocket, his ears turning a shade of red as he rushes to grab his ID.

Hastily, you halt him, not wanting to put him through the trouble of proving his identity. Silently, you smile to yourself, he is sweet.

You and Yunho take a seat at a quiet corner table within the library, and you find yourself fidgeting with unease in your chair. Yunho, observant of your discomfort, wisely refrains from commenting, valuing your need for privacy.

"Alright," Yunho began, adjusting his glasses with a hint of nervousness in his demeanour. He reaches into his bag, carefully pulling out two well-worn textbooks and a stack of papers, placing them on the table in front of you. 

"I wasn't entirely sure which topics you needed help with, so I brought materials for all five modules you're studying this semester."

You examine the books, their covers showing the marks of countless readers who had delved into their pages. 

"Are these your books?" you inquire, surprised by the thoughtfulness he has put into his preparation.

Yunho shakes his head, his cheeks flushing slightly as he admits, "No, I borrowed them from the library. Microbiology isn't my field of study."

Your disbelief is evident as you fix your gaze on him. The rosy hue on his cheeks deepens as he fiddles with the sleeves of his oversized sweater and adjusts his glasses nervously. "You don't study microbiology?" you ask, genuinely surprised.

"No," Yunho confesses, his embarrassment now fully on display. "I just study it as a hobby."

You can’t help but be impressed by his dedication and the sheer audacity of teaching a subject purely out of passion. 

"That's impressive," you state. You were well aware that to tutor a subject officially, one typically needed to pass a test administered by the school, certifying one's proficiency. The fact that Yunho was willing to help without any formal obligation was both admirable and unexpected.

Curiosity gets the better of you, you inquire, "What else do you tutor?"

Yunho hesitates for a moment, his fingers still absently adjusting his glasses. "Um, history, algebra, and applied sciences," he finally reveals, his modesty and shyness contrasting with his evident knowledge.

As you listened to him speak, you found yourself captivated not only by his academic prowess but also by the way he wore his thick glasses and his endearing shyness. Yunho was turning out to be a surprising and impressive individual, and you couldn't help but feel a growing fascination with the person who had just entered your academic world.

“So how much do you know about Microbiology?” Yunho questions, thinning through some of the papers in front of him.

“Uh, the basics I guess.” you mumble, your knowledge not the best seeing as you have missed many lectures the past few months.

Yunho's gaze meets yours, and you sense him observing your unease as his eyes traverse your form. 

With a soft tone, he reassures you, "it’s okay, you can be honest. I'm here to help you, so you have to be honest. Then I can help you in the best way possible.” 

For a fleeting moment, his words touch your heart, a warmth spreading within. Yet, you quickly suppress the feeling, reminding yourself that there is no time for such emotions in your busy life.

“I’ve forgotten a lot, to be honest.” 

“That’s okay, we will start with the basics today, to refresh your memory.” 

Under the soft glow of the study lamps in your cosy corner of the library, Yunho begins to unravel the basics. The excitement in his eyes was unmistakable, his passion for the subject evident with every word he spoke.

"Alright," he begins, tracing his finger along the pages filled with complex diagrams and scientific jargon. "As you likely already know, microbiology is the study of tiny organisms, like bacteria, viruses, and fungi. These microorganisms are everywhere, and they play a crucial role in our lives, from the food we eat to the diseases we encounter."

Yunho's explanation is clear and concise, making sure to break down complex ideas into easily digestible pieces. 

He continues, "Uhh, the basics: the three main types of microorganisms. First, there are bacteria. They're single-celled organisms that can be both good and bad. Some bacteria help with digestion in your gut, while others can cause diseases."

You nod along, your memory starting to be refreshed. Yunho's enthusiasm is contagious, and you find yourself getting more and more interested in the subject.

He flips to a page with colourful illustrations of various microorganisms. "Then there are viruses, which are even smaller than bacteria. They're not considered living because they can't reproduce on their own. Instead, they need a host cell to replicate. Viruses are responsible for many illnesses, like the flu or COVID."

You absorb the information, appreciating how Yunho made the complex concept of viruses relatable. "And the third type?" you prompt.

"Ah, fungi," Yunho smiles. "Fungi are more complex microorganisms. They can be beneficial, like the yeast used in baking bread, or harmful, causing infections like athlete's foot. They're known for their unique cell structure and reproduction methods."

Whilst he explains, he encourages you to ask questions, making sure you are following along. The library's serene ambiance, coupled with Yunho's patient teaching, created a comfortable learning atmosphere. He didn't rush, taking his time to make sure you grasped each concept before moving on.

He continued to cover the basics of microbiology, including the significance of studying these microorganisms, their role in medicine, agriculture, and environmental science. Yunho's passion for the subject was evident in the way he animatedly discussed the various branches of microbiology, from medical microbiology to environmental microbiology, each with its unique focus and importance.

In the quiet of the library, during this unexpected first study session, you find yourself lost in thought. This wasn't how you had imagined it would go, and you can’t help but be impressed and thankful for Yunho's extraordinary patience and intelligence. 

You had initially expected a conventional tutoring experience, but Yunho has proven to be so much more. His explanations were crystal clear, his passion for the subject contagious, and his willingness to help you with genuine enthusiasm is striking. He isn’t just a smart individual; he is a rare combination of intelligence and empathy.

You marvel at the fact that he wasn't the stereotypical snobby, know-it-all type who might look down on your abilities. Instead, Yunho is an embodiment of understanding and non-judgment. As he continues to make the complex subject of microbiology comprehensible, you can’t help but feel immense gratitude.

The study session with Yunho nears its end and you find yourself in a much different frame of mind than when you had started. Initially apprehensive about having a tutor, you have been pleasantly surprised by the experience. Your worries have somewhat melted away, replaced by a growing sense of confidence and gratitude.

Yunho, having covered a significant portion of the microbiology basics, closes the textbook with a satisfied smile. "I think we've made some good progress today," he says. "But there is still a lot we have to cover before exams next month. I expect to see you every Wednesday and Friday until then." Yunho attempts a stern voice, jokingly pointing his finger at you.

You chuckle, rolling your eyes. “Yes sir.” you salute him, acting back on his funny actions. 

Gathering your belongings, you prepare to leave the library, yet Yunho surprises you with a genuine offer. 

"If you ever have questions or need further assistance, don't hesitate to reach out. I'm here to help, and I enjoy teaching. We can meet on more days if you need."

You smile at the sincerity in his voice, “that’s okay, Yunho.” you say before turning towards the exit.

Walking out of the library, a lightness seems to settle upon your chest, replacing the initial apprehension with a sense of accomplishment. Glancing at your phone, you note that it is only ten in the evening. This realisation fills you with a newfound sense of freedom and opportunity.

With a contented smile, you contemplate the evening unfolding before you. The memory of the house party, just a short walk down the road, initially seemed distant due to your earlier commitment to the study session with Yunho. Despite knowing that you should be heading home to review your notes, a mischievous thought crept into your mind – what Yunho didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

A sly smirk plays on your lips as you begin to make your way toward the house party. You can’t deny the allure of a night filled with fun and perhaps a little indulgence. Yet, as you take your first steps, a fleeting moment of hesitation overcomes you. You pause, reflecting on the considerable effort Yunho had put into helping you today.

It is a big realisation. Few, if any, have ever invested so much time and effort in your growth and success. Your heart warms for a brief second at the thought, but just as quickly, you push aside those emotions. You have your reasons – a past that still haunted you, and the fear of getting your heart broken once more. You can’t afford to be vulnerable.

Despite your better judgement, you continue your journey to the house party, determined to enjoy the night to the fullest. 

Unbeknownst to you, though, Yunho's presence would linger in your thoughts throughout the night.

—

Several weeks have passed since the start of your study sessions with Yunho, and it has been quite the transformative period. Initially, you had been reluctant to engage in any additional study outside of your scheduled sessions with him. But over time, Yunho's presence had become a reassuring constant in your life, offering a sense of peace and support that you couldn't quite admit to yourself.

During the past couple of weeks, you found yourself increasingly immersed in your books and studies, even sometimes choosing academic pursuits over the lively parties that your large, party-loving friend group frequented. 

The shift in your priorities had not gone unnoticed by your friends, who seemed disheartened by your withdrawal from their activities. A residue of guilt clings to you every time you opted to hit the books rather than attend a party. Your ‘friends’ have grown vocal about it, casting you as a bore and a waste of time, berating you for supposedly losing your popularity.

Amid this turmoil, your study sessions with Yunho had become a sanctuary, a refuge from the social pressure and expectations. What you didn't fully realise was the profound positive impact these sessions were having on you, not just academically but also in terms of your personal growth.

Just a few days ago, you faced your first exam since you had started your sessions with Yunho and today you are receiving the results. You are well aware that if you do not pass this, it is not a huge deal seeing as it is not a final exam. Yet you do need to prove yourself to the student council by at least getting a D. 

The anticipation is palpable in Professor Turner's classroom, the air thick with nervous energy. She stands at the front of the room, clutching a stack of papers that hold the results of the previous week's exam. Your heart races as you sit there, your anxiety mounting with each passing moment.

Whilst Professor Turner begins to distribute the grades, your palms grow clammy, and your heart races even faster. 

As Professor Turner finally reaches your desk, she hands you the paper with a warm smile that holds an underlying pride. In the corner of the sheet, a vibrant red 'C' was marked. It isn’t the highest grade in the class, but at this moment, it feels like a monumental achievement.

A sense of accomplishment washes over you like a warm wave, as you realise that all the effort, Yunho's unwavering support, and Professor Turner's belief in you is beginning to pay off. 

You cannot wait to let Yunho know about the news.

The campus courtyard was alive with activity as students milled about, enjoying the pleasant weather and the break from their studies. Among the various clusters of friends, you spot Yunho, standing with a small group of his own. His friends seem to be engaged in an animated conversation, their voices and laughter filling the air. 

You observe Yunho for a brief moment, his expression appearing neutral as he attentively listens to his friend's conversation. Your gaze then drifts down to the sight of Yunho pulling up the sleeves of his knitted sweater, revealing his unexpectedly well-defined forearms. The contrast between his baggy clothing and his toned physique momentarily catches you off guard.

But as you approach, your excitement is impossible to contain, the momentary thought of how toned Yunho is elsewhere leaves your mind. Your heart races, and you feel a surge of joy within you. The sense of accomplishment overwhelms you, and you can’t wait to share the news with Yunho, regardless of the audience.

Without hesitation, you stride purposefully toward him, determination etched across your face. The moment you reach him, you suddenly feel a little small under the eyes of his friends who seem to have noticed you approaching.

“Yunho,” you say gently, attempting to get his attention.

Yunho turns around, surprised to see you talking to him outside of your study sessions.

“Hey, what’s up?” Yunho questions, his attention fully on you as he forgets his friends existence.

“I passed the exam,” you beam, “well barely it was only a C.”

Yunho’s eyes widen as his face breaks into a bright, genuine smile. His eyes, behind his thick glasses, now sparkle with delight. 

"That's amazing! I knew you could do it!" he exclaims, his enthusiasm matching yours.

His friends can’t resist exchanging glances among themselves, finding it rather peculiar to witness your conversation with Yunho. After all, you are a highly popular figure in their school, while Yunho remains a reserved and relatively unknown individual.

The smile of pride that graces Yunho's face stirs a flurry of butterflies in your stomach, a sensation that has become increasingly common in recent times. Yet, you can't quite bring yourself to acknowledge the feeling, even to yourself.

Yunho's hand rises with a touch of hesitation before gently resting on the top of your head, playfully ruffling your hair to convey a silent 'good job.' Your entire face warms at the simple gesture, a blush creeping across your cheeks.

"Now, it's time to focus on those major tests, okay?" Yunho exclaims, his voice brimming with enthusiasm as he makes an effort to infuse you with the same excitement.

"Yes, sir," you respond with a playful salute, evoking a chuckle from his lips. Saluting Yunho has become somewhat of a habit, and he finds it endearing every time you do it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?” 

You offer a nod, a warm smile gracing your face as you wave and bid farewell to Yunho and his friends.

Walking away, you feel a deep sense of gratitude for Yunho's unwavering support, not just as a tutor but as a friend who is being a great help in your journey toward success. 

His encouragement had been a driving force in your recent accomplishments, and you couldn't have been happier to share this victory with him and his friends in the vibrant courtyard, a testament to the bonds forged through your academic pursuits.

As you depart, Yunho's gaze lingers on your retreating figure, a faint smile gracing his lips as he replays the conversation in his mind. The moment you vanish from his sight, his friends swivel toward him, their faces etched with bewilderment and curiosity.

"When you mentioned you were tutoring someone, you didn't say it was them?" Wooyoung exclaims, genuine confusion stemming from the exchange they just witnessed.

Yunho, momentarily caught off guard by their reactions, inquires, "What do you mean?" He shifts his attention toward the group, ready to address their inquiries.

"Dude, she's the most popular person in this school; you don't just get to talk to them," San chimes in, his astonishment mirroring Wooyoung's.

Yunho, however, didn't buy into the notion of social hierarchies. He pokes San in the forehead, responding, "We're not in high school anymore, and there's no such thing as popular girls and guys."

Wooyoung's expression softens as he mulls over your interaction. "And they were so nice," he continues, noting Yunho's reaction. "I didn't expect someone with their status to be so nice."

Yunho's annoyance flares at the stereotype implied in Wooyoung's words, his brow furrowing. "Don't hold such stereotypes," he chastises his friend. "They... they are the sweetest person I know."

San's eyes widen as he glances at Yunho, connecting the dots. "Holy moly," he exclaims. "You like them, don't you?"

Yunho scrambles to hush him up, his cheeks flushing. "Shut up," he grumbles, though the embarrassment in his voice hints at a deeper truth.

—

“Ugh, I’m never going to pass this test,” you groan as you throw your head into your hands, frustration emitting from your every fibre.

"Come on, don't be so pessimistic. You've got this, and I believe in you," Yunho exclaims, his warm smile casting a ray of encouragement over the room. He watches as you succumb to a hissy fit, a mix of frustration and self-doubt, a smile covering his features at your actions.

"You always say that, but this time I am doomed," you groan, your voice muffled by your hands as you bury your face in them.

Gently, Yunho reaches out and takes your hands, coaxing them away from your face. The contact sends a brief tremor through your heart, and you can’t help but notice the warmth of his touch.

"You can do it; you're the smartest person I know," Yunho says softly, locking his eyes with yours. His words catch you off guard, and you look at him, a puzzled expression furrowing your brow. 

"I'm not smart; if I were, I wouldn't need a tutor," you state flatly, a hint of self-deprecation in your tone, which elicits a chuckle from Yunho.

"I'd be an idiot not to see your potential. I just think you had your priorities muddled when you first came here," he remarks.

Curious, you probe further. "What do you mean?"

"I mean it's no secret you enjoy a party," Yunho replies.

"No, before that."

"Oh," Yunho responds, and he continues, seemingly on a roll, "Well, I'd have to be blind not to see how smart you actually are. You're very capable of applying knowledge and solving problems. You have an excellent memory; most of the time, I only have to explain something once, and you've already processed it and applied it. It's very impressive. You're incredibly talented too. I see all the drawings you do in your book when you’re bored."

Yunho continues his praise, yet he is unaware of the emotions that well up within you. When he eventually glances in your direction, he is taken aback to find your eyes glistening with tears and a smile gracing your face.

"Did I say something wrong? I'm so sorry if it wasn't my intention," he inquires quickly, a sense of concern crossing his features as he worries he may have inadvertently hurt your feelings.

You shake your head and wipe away a tear, still smiling. "No, Yunho. It's just... no one really sees me like that anymore."

Now Yunho is confused for a different reason. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, most people see me as the 'popular girl' or 'the life of the party.' I don't know. It's nice to be seen as something other than the stereotype.”

"I know what you mean," Yunho says, his hand ruffling his hair as his cheeks turn a faint shade of red.

"What do you mean?" you ask, intrigued by his response.

"Well, I'm usually seen as a nerd or a loner. People only talk to me when they need help with assignments or answers for exams. It was nice at first, feeling needed, but now it just feels like I'm being used in a way. I only have two friends, and they spend more time with each other than they do with me." Yunho admits, his gaze drifting down to his fingers, where he idly picks at a piece of dead skin on his nail.

"I know it's weird coming from me since you're literally my tutor, but I don't think your intelligence defines you," You begin, causing Yunho to look up at you with a puzzled expression, waiting for you to elaborate.

You continue, your words flowing with sincerity, "You're a sweetheart, Yunho. I see you helping people, not because you have to, but because you genuinely enjoy it. You're kind, a gentleman, and incredibly thoughtful. Your sense of humour is beyond anyone I've ever met before; it's refreshing to talk to someone whose humour isn't just 'your momma' jokes or making others look bad to get a laugh."

Yunho furrows his eyebrows, taking in your words, his expression almost studying them.

"Plus," you add, a warm smile gracing your face, "whether you like it or not, I consider you my friend."

—

The evening sun casts a warm glow over the campus as you join your friend group in the bustling cafeteria. Laughter and chatter filled the air as you settled in with them at your usual table. The topic of conversation quickly turns to the party happening later in the night, an event that has become increasingly rare for you to attend. The thought of partying when there was a crucial final exam on the horizon weighs heavily on your mind.

"Hey, you are coming to the party tonight, right?" your friend asks, a glimmer of anticipation in their eyes.

You hesitate for a moment, knowing what your priorities were. "I wish I could, but I really need to study for the final exam," you explain.

Immediately, your friends' expressions grow sour, and they exchange incredulous glances. "Again? You're always studying or making excuses. It's like you're avoiding us," one of them remarks, frustration creeping into their tone.

Their words sting, and you feel the pressure of their expectations bearing down on you. "I'm not avoiding anyone; I just have to prioritise my studies, you guys know I might get expelled." you insist, your voice wavering slightly as you try to maintain your composure.

But your friends aren’t satisfied with your explanation. 

"You never come to parties anymore. You're turning into a loser nerd, just like that loner Yunho," another friend declares with a snide tone, and the others chime in agreement, chuckles leaving their mouths.

The words strike a nerve, and you can’t hold back any longer. How dare they insult Yunho, who has been there for you during your toughest times of studying? The anger that has been building up inside you erupts.

"Yunho is not a loser," you snap, your voice filled with indignation. "He's been more of a friend to me than any of you. If you can't understand the importance of my studies and support me, then I don't need ‘friends’ like you."

At that moment, you make a decision. These friends are just immature individuals who only care about getting drunk and partying. They value popularity and shallow connections over your well-being and academic success. You have had enough of pretending to be something you weren't just to fit in.

"I don't care about popularity if it means I have to be fake and have fake-ass friends," you exclaim. With that, you push your chair back and leave the table, leaving your former friends behind, realising that true friendship means understanding and respecting your priorities, not forcing you to compromise your goals.

Walking away from the cafeteria, you feel a mix of anger, relief, and sadness. It was painful to let go of friendships that had once meant so much to you, but you knew that your academic journey is more important than trying to fit into a mould that didn't truly represent who you were.

Tears well up in your eyes, and you can’t prevent them from spilling over as you stand just outside the school gates. You pay no mind to the curious glances of onlookers, for your emotions are too overwhelming to be hidden. You aren’t entirely certain if these tears are born of sadness, frustration, or a turbulent mix of both.

Without even thinking, you pull out your phone and dial Yunho’s number. You are not sure if you want to be alone tonight, yet you definitely do not want to go to a party. The only person you know will be available is Yunho. Maybe you can have an extra study session tonight.

It takes the phone only five seconds before Yunho picks up, his voice bright as he greets you.

"Hey, Yunho," you begin, attempting to maintain a sense of composure, but the tremor in your voice reveals your unease.

Yunho's keen ear picks up on the shakiness in your tone, and concern washes over him as he responds with a soft, soothing voice, "What's wrong?"

You sniffle, trying to brush off the emotions threatening to overcome you. "Nothing, it's nothing," you reply, your voice still carrying the traces of distress. "Are you free to study? I don't have anything to do, and I need to go over a few things."

Yunho is aware that a big party is scheduled for tonight, information he had gathered from Wooyoung, who also enjoys such gatherings. He finds it puzzling that you, too, had initially expressed an interest in attending the event, but he refrained from voicing his curiosity.

"I am free, but the library is closed today, and the school is closing soon too," Yunho explains, an idea begins to take root in his mind, and he hesitates before asking, "You could come to my place?"

The offer hangs in the air for a moment, full of unspoken implications. Yunho's excitement about the prospect of having you over is palpable, yet he tries to maintain his composure. He knows that his place will offer a quiet environment for studying.

The offer hangs in the air, and for a brief moment, you hesitate. You are well aware that accepting Yunho's invitation would signify a slight shift in your academic tutor relationship. The unspoken implications dance in the silence between you.

Yunho, on the other hand, finds his nervousness manifesting in the way he chews the inside of his cheek. His heart races as he awaits your response, unsure of how you would react to his proposition.

Despite your initial reservations, you can’t seem to bring yourself to decline his offer. The warmth and genuine concern that Yunho has consistently shown makes you feel safe and comfortable around him, and you find it difficult to resist the idea of studying in his presence, even if it means stepping slightly outside the boundaries of your tutor-student dynamic.

“What’s your address?” 

Making your way to Yunho's apartment, the anticipation of seeing him outside the usual academic setting adds an extra layer of excitement to your steps. The prospect of stepping into his personal space, even for a study session, feels like a small adventure.

You reach his apartment door and take a moment to collect yourself, your heart beating just a bit faster with each passing second. When you knock, the immediate rustling sounds from the other side of the door indicate that Yunho is indeed home.

The door opens, revealing a sight that takes your breath away. You are accustomed to seeing Yunho in smart attire, his hair always neatly styled, and he consistently looks presentable. However, the man who stands before you now is quite different.

Yunho is dressed in a loose grey T-shirt that hangs comfortably on his frame, and he wears a pair of black sweatpants that appear as cosy as they are casual. His hair is fluffy and untamed, in stark contrast to his usually well-groomed appearance. Yet, for some reason, this version of Yunho is just as captivating.

He still wears his thick glasses, but the way he looks now, so relaxed and approachable, makes your heart flutter. You can’t help but notice the subtle differences that render him all the more appealing. Your eyes linger on his toned arms, a part of him that was typically concealed beneath his attire. The sight of them, revealed in the simple T-shirt, is enough to send a rush of warmth throughout your body.

Yunho's appearance today is a stark departure from his usual academic demeanour, and it leaves you both pleasantly surprised and, admittedly, a little flustered. 

"Hey, uh, you can come in," Yunho stammers, a faint blush covering his cheeks.

You step inside, casting a brief but appreciative glance around Yunho's apartment. The space is on the smaller side, but it exudes a cosy charm that instantly puts you at ease. The apartment is immaculately clean and well-organised with a sense of tranquillity that contrasts with the bustling student life outside.

The living room is adorned with shelves, and the shelves are full of an impressive array of books, neatly arranged in rows. The sight of so many books gives you a glimpse into the depth of his knowledge and his passion for education.

As you look around, you notice a comfortable-looking sofa with a warm throw blanket tossed over it, a sign of a space that was both functional and inviting. The soft glow of a desk lamp illuminated a study area with a well-kept desk, hinting at countless hours of diligent work.

Yunho's apartment is not large, but it feels like a haven for anyone seeking a peaceful refuge from the outside world. It reminds you of Yunho.

"Do you want something to drink or eat?" Yunho asks, his voice tinged with a touch of nervousness as he observes your exploration of his apartment.

You take a moment to absorb the cosy ambiance of his living space before replying, "Have you had dinner?"

Yunho's cheeks flush a deeper shade of red, and a small, endearing smile graced his lips. “I haven't yet, I was going to order something later.”

“Can we eat together? I haven't eaten since this morning.”

Yunho grumbles your name, reprimanding you, "I told you, you need to eat regularly; it helps with..."

You finish his sentence with a soft chuckle, "Concentration, I know, Yu."

The use of the affectionate nickname "Yu" slips easily from your lips, and you are unaware of the profound impact it has on Yunho. His heart races at the sound of it, though he tries to hide his reaction with a smile. 

You continue, "We can eat while studying, right?" Your suggestion seems to lighten the mood, and Yunho is more than willing to accommodate your request.

“Of course.”

Yunho and you sit on the floor of his living room, your books and notes spread out on his coffee table, which also hold the remnants of an empty pizza box from your meal earlier. This makeshift study space is cosy, and the atmosphere is filled with the shared pursuit of knowledge.

Yunho is positioned in front of you, as he often is during your study sessions, carefully watching you as you diligently take notes. He couldn't help but admire your dedication and determination, and his heart swelled with pride as he saw your progress. 

As you write, a strand of hair slips from behind your ear and falls in front of your face. It is a simple, everyday occurrence, but to Yunho, it is a moment of subtle beauty. He feels a strong urge to reach out and tuck that strand of hair behind your ear, to be close to you in that small, intimate way. However, he holds back, not wanting to push any boundaries that existed between you. 

He watches with fascination as you decide to tie your hair up, using a hairband that was on your wrist. The act of gathering your hair and securing it in a ponytail seems almost magical to him. Yunho can’t deny the allure of how you look with your hair up, a sense of casual elegance that tugs at his heart.

In this moment, his thoughts stray to less innocent territories, but he quickly redirects his focus to the task at hand. He can’t afford to let his mind wander too far, not when the two of you are deep in a study session and he is fairly certain you would never harbour feelings for him in that way. 

However, the image of you with your hair tied up stays with him, etched into his memory, a reminder of the many facets of your charm that make it increasingly difficult for him to keep his feelings at bay.

You furrow your brows, attempting to decipher a particularly complex passage about pathogens. It is a subject that has always managed to baffle you, and tonight was no exception.

Glancing up, you are caught off guard by the intense gaze of Yunho. He was already intently staring at you, an indescribable emotion in his eyes. Clearing your throat, you shift your focus back to the book, feeling the weight of his attention. Yunho immediately averts his gaze, pretending to be engrossed in his own book.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to take a chance and ask the question that has been bothering you about the microorganism. "Yunho, can you help me with this? I don't quite understand this."

Yunho's attention snaps back to you, his eyes focusing on the book. However, as he leans in to get a better look, the words on the page seem to blur. Determined to help you, he moves closer, sitting next to you on the floor. His arm brushing against yours, his thigh lightly touching yours, creates a subtle yet undeniable physical connection.

Yunho looks down at your bare thighs and he mentally curses you for wearing a skirt, he isn't sure how to pay attention when you are so close to him.

Yunho begins to explain the terminology and you find it increasingly challenging to concentrate on the subject. Your eyes are locked on his face, drawn to the way his lips move and the subtle changes in his expression as he explains the concepts. His proximity was both distracting and comforting, and you can’t help but feel a flutter of excitement in your chest.

You cannot deny the allure of Yunho's presence. His crisp scent, a mix of a rich, woody sweetness and a hint of cologne, fills your senses and sends your mind racing. It is an intoxicating aroma that evokes a sense of freshness and warmth, creating an almost magnetic pull.

Listening to Yunho's explanations, you struggle to keep your focus on the topic at hand. Your eyes remain fixed on his face, capturing the play of emotions and the genuine care he puts into helping you understand. In this moment, the connection between you is undeniable, and the unspoken tension in the air seems to grow with each passing second. Little did you both know the profound effect you are having on each other as you lean against one another, on the verge of something unspoken. The second Yunho moves back to his seat, you suddenly feel awfully cold and empty, yet once again you push the feelings away.

The two of you continue your study session, when Yunho suddenly removes his glasses and rubs his eyes in a gesture of weariness. His actions catch your attention, and your gaze remains locked on his face, momentarily entranced by the change in his appearance.

In all the time you have spent with Yunho, you have never really taken into consideration how handsome he might be without his glasses. Now, as you observe his bare face, you are struck by his natural beauty. His features are chiselled and symmetrical, and there is a timeless quality to his face that make him incredibly appealing.

Yunho's clear eyes, framed by long, dark lashes, hold a depth that you haven't fully appreciated before. His skin was smooth and unblemished, and his lips had a natural rosy hue. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a different charm to him that you have never taken the time to notice.

For a moment, you find yourself in awe of how genuinely handsome he is, and you can’t help but appreciate the sight of him with his glasses off.

The study session is coming to a close, and as you gather your books and notes, you notice a curious look on Yunho's face. It is evident that he has something on his mind, and your curiosity gets the best of you.

"Is there something??" you inquire, your voice soft and inquisitive.

Yunho hesitates for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully. "When you called, you seemed upset. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but I was just worried."

You look at him with a touch of surprise at his perceptiveness. 

The fight with your friends wasn’t something you had planned to discuss, but you can sense the genuine concern in Yunho's expression, and you feel compelled to share.

Taking a deep breath, you begin to explain the situation, recounting the immaturity and unfair accusations that had led to the fallout. Yunho's shock and disbelief at their behaviour is palpable, and his expression reveals a mix of sympathy and frustration on your behalf.

"I can't believe they'd act like that," Yunho exclaims, his voice laced with sympathy. "It's their loss, you know. You're an incredible person, and they're the ones who are missing out."

Yunho's words are comforting, and the warmth of his understanding makes you feel as if a weight has been lifted from your shoulders. It is a rare and welcome feeling to have someone truly empathise with your situation, and you find yourself grateful for his support.

Yunho watches you with a tender look when suddenly his curiosity gets the best of him, and he asks, "What does your boyfriend think of you coming to my house and spending so much time with me?"

You let out a sigh, the question touching a nerve you are not quite ready to address. "I don't have a boyfriend," you confess, and for a moment, there is a hint of vulnerability in your voice.

Yunho, genuinely surprised, raises an eyebrow, trying to hide his excitement as he peers at you. "Why not?"

You sigh again, your gaze dropping to the floor. "Most of the boys I'm around aren't ready for a relationship. They just want something casual, and I don't want to get my heart broken."

Yunho's brow furrows as he considers your response. "I didn't expect that," he admits, his voice tinged with surprise.

"What do you mean?" you ask, genuinely curious about his reaction.

Yunho sets a piece of paper he had been studying in front of him, "I mean, you have guys falling at your feet. Don't you have one person you enjoy spending time with?"

You ponder on his words, your eyes lingering on Yunho, who is now fully engaged in the paper. He isn't looking at you; instead, his gaze is focused on the words before him. 

After a moment of contemplation, you respond, "I enjoy spending time with you."

The second the  words leave your lips, Yunho looks up from his reading, and the world seems to momentarily stand still around you. His heart skips a beat, and for a fraction of a second, everything else fades into the background. Your words hang in the air, and Yunho lets them sink in.

In this suspended moment, it is as if the universe conspired to create a connection that went beyond friendship and tutoring. Yunho's heart pounds in his chest, and he can’t help but meet your gaze with a mixture of surprise and affection. 

Yunho cannot deny the impact of your confession. It is a sentiment he has quietly harboured but never dared to voice. Now, as the reality of your words settle in, he can’t help but feel a sense of joy and gratitude for the special bond that has grown between you, transcending the boundaries of tutor and student.

—

The night is alive with the promise of revelry as you arrive at a party, a whirlwind of colour and sound. It has been some time since you'd attended such an event, focusing intensely on your studies. But tonight is different. Hongjoong, an old friend who had no knowledge of falling out with your other friends, had invited you. You trusted him not to judge your academic priorities, and the prospect of enjoying yourself was too tempting to resist.

You had chosen to let loose for the evening. After an intense study session last night, you felt you deserved a break. You wear a stunning deep purple dress that hugs your curves, accentuating your figure in all the right places. The fabric clings to you like a second skin, and its elegance draws the admiring gazes of many in attendance. Though you are well aware of the attention, you can’t help but feel indifferent to it now. Your priorities have shifted, and the superficial desires of others hold little sway over you.

Entering the party, the vibrant atmosphere envelopes you. The music throbs with an infectious beat, and the dance floor pulses with people lost in the rhythm. Laughter and conversations fill the air, and the warm glow of colourful lights creates a dazzling backdrop for the night's festivities.

Spotting Hongjoong in the kitchen, you make your way through the bustling crowd. He is deeply engrossed in a lively conversation with some of his friends, a characteristic grin lighting up his face. A sense of nostalgia and anticipation welled up within you as you drew closer.

You approach Hongjoong, who is mingling near the drinks table, a welcoming smile on his face as he spots you. 

“Do you want a drink?” He offers, but you decline, stating that you have an early lecture the next morning. 

Hongjoong nods understandingly, knowing you are dedicated to your studies. You are grateful for his response, as he does not press the issue but simply smiles and continues with the conversation.

“So you’ve gone back to your nerd roots,” Hongjoong jokes as he hands you a cup of cola.

You laugh as you take the cup, “it’s been a while since I've studied this hard,”

“You were always stuck in a book in highschool,” 

“It’s nice to feel like my brain isn't rotting anymore,” you exclaim laughing.

“I’ll cheers to that,”

As you chat with Hongjoong, you enjoy catching up and the lively atmosphere of the party. When all of a sudden you see a familiar figure from the corner of your eye. At first, you thought your mind might be playing tricks on you, but as you turn your head, you realise it was indeed who you thought it was.

Quickly, you bid a quick goodbye to Hongjoong and make your way through the crowd, heading straight for the person, who seems to be stumbling around slightly. 

Concern etched on your face, you approach him and ask, "Yunho, what on earth are you doing here?"

Yunho's expression is a mix of surprise and embarrassment as he struggles to regain his composure. "Uh… I’m not really sure," he admits, his voice tinged with nervousness.

You can’t help but feel a combination of amusement and warmth at his unexpected presence. Yunho, who usually exudes an air of composed intelligence, seems to be a bit out of his element in the party scene. Nonetheless, you appreciated the effort he made to be there. 

"Are you okay?" You question, his anxious eyes dart around the crowded room, taking in the chaotic atmosphere of the party.

Yunho hesitates for a moment before admitting, "Would it be weird if I said I don't like it here?"

A warm smile graces your face, understanding his unease in this unfamiliar setting. Without hesitation, you reach out and gently grab his hand, your fingers interlocking boldly. Yunho is taken aback by the physical contact, feeling the warmth of your hand in his, and his heart flutters in response.

You lead him to a more secluded area of the house where the music is not as deafening, and the crowd is much thinner. The change of scenery provides a welcome respite from the overwhelming chaos of the main party area. Yunho can’t ignore the way your small hands feel in his large ones, the sensation sending a shiver down his spine. It is a simple gesture, but it makes him feel closer to you, dispelling some of his unease.

In the quieter, more secluded area of the house, you and Yunho find a temporary refuge from the bustling party. 

"What are you really doing here?" you ask, curiosity in your eyes.

Yunho's expression shifts, and he admits, "Wooyoung dragged me here. I didn't really want to come, and I already don't like it." His eyes scan the room, taking in the scene around him.

For a moment, Yunho's gaze settles on you, and he notices your choice of attire, a short, form-fitting dress that accentuates your curves. It is a striking sight that leaves an indelible impression on him. His mind wanders to non-innocent places, etching the image of you in this dress into his memory. He can’t deny that you look stunning, and his thoughts momentarily venture into uncharted territory.

Although his initial discomfort at the party has faded, the sight of you in that dress stirs something within him, something he has only thought of late at night. It is an unexpected sight that leaves Yunho in a state of internal turmoil, struggling to keep his thoughts in check as he tries to focus on the conversation at hand.

The pulsating music and the chaotic atmosphere of the party seems to close in around you. Suddenly a thought crosses your mind, and you turn to Yunho, considering your options.

"Do you want to get out of here?" you ask, your voice barely audible over the party noise.

Your question snaps Yunho out of his thoughts, and he looks back up at you as if he had been caught taking in your form. His gaze meets yours, and for a brief moment, you can see the vulnerability in his eyes. It is a rare sight, and it makes you feel even more connected to him.

It takes less than a second for Yunho to answer, "Yes."

Without further hesitation, he intertwines your fingers with his, and you both rush towards the exit of the house. Yunho's larger frame shields you from the reckless partiers who are going strong, ensuring you don't get caught in the chaos of the crowd. The touch of his hand is both reassuring and electrifying, and it feels like an unspoken agreement between the two of you; an escape from the madness into a more tranquil and intimate setting.

You are not sure how you ended up at Yunho’s apartment, yet you cannot quite complain. Since the study session at his house you have desired to be back at his, it was so comforting and peaceful in his house and you love it there. 

"You can make yourself at home, I'm going to grab us some food," Yunho explains as he opens the door to his cosy apartment. He moves to grab his wallet from the coffee table, ready to head out to pick up the food. 

However, as he attempts to pass you and make his way to the door, you stand in front of him, blocking his path. The look on your face reveals your disappointment, and it is clear that you don’t want him to leave so soon.

"Can we order it?" you ask, your voice filled with a longing for his company.

Yunho hesitates for a moment, weighing the options, but he ultimately replies, "It'll be quicker for me to get it now."

Despite his practical reasoning, you insisted, "Please stay with me Yunho."

Yunho can’t help but be touched by your plea. The vulnerability in your voice causes a flutter in his chest, and he is acutely aware of the genuine connection that has developed between you. He smiles and relents, realising that he doesn’t want to leave you either.

"Okay," he speaks softly, "I'll order it."

Your gratitude was evident in your eyes, and you knew you had made the right decision. Yunho's presence is something you cherished, and you are both beginning to understand just how much the other means to you.

You settle onto his couch, and soon enough the Chinese takeout that you had ordered arrives, the delightful aroma filling the room. It is a welcomed comfort that you both enjoy as you unwrap the containers and share the delicious meal. 

You watch as Yunho picks a movie that he recommends, and you were intrigued to see his choice.

As you and Yunho start to watch the movie, you can’t help but feel a chill in the room. The soft glow from the TV illuminated your silhouette, the short dress you are wearing now seems impractical in the cosy setting.

Yunho, ever attentive, notices your discomfort and decides to speak up. "Are you cold?" he inquires, a hint of concern in his voice.

You hesitate for a moment but soon admit, "Yeah, a little."

Without further ado, Yunho offers a solution. "I have some warmer clothes you can borrow if you want. I could grab them for you."

His thoughtful gesture leaves you flustered, but you manage to stammer out a grateful "Yes, please." Your heart warms at the consideration he shows, and you appreciate his willingness to make you more comfortable.

Yunho quickly gets up and disappears into his bedroom. He returns with a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, both of which were his own. His choice of clothing was deliberate, as he handed you his favourite hoodie. He has often wondered what you would look like wearing it, and now he has the perfect excuse to find out. The hoodie is warm and smells like him, making you feel closer to him in a way you hadn't anticipated.

Yunho can’t help but watch you with a warm smile as you accept the clothes. However, the smile quickly fades as he realises his mistake, and he feels his cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

"Oh, sorry," he quickly stutters out, chuckling nervously as he ruffles the back of his hair, "You can change in my bedroom."

You laugh gently at him, he is so cute.

“Thank you,” you smile before walking into his bedroom.

Entering Yunho's bedroom, you can’t help but take in the clean and organised space. His room is a testament to his meticulous nature, and you appreciate the attention to detail. But what truly catches your eye are the posters of various games adorning the walls. You admired the artwork and can’t help but think that they add a personal touch to the room.

Shaking off the distraction, you proceed to change into Yunho's clothes. The hoodie he has given you is larger than you expected, enveloping you in warmth and reaching down to your mid-thigh. The realisation of just how big Yunho begins to dawn on you.

His hoodie seems to swallow you in its comfort, and you can’t help but feel a little bit smaller. His physical presence is undeniable; he is taller than you, his shoulders are broad, and his hands are significantly larger than yours. The contrast is alluring, and you can’t deny that the thought of him towering over you, his sheer size and strength, stirs something within you.

You feel arousal pooling in between your legs, but you push aside the feeling, not sure if Yunho would feel the same way.

The hoodie is so long, you make a bold choice to not wear the sweatpants, seeing as the hoodie covers everything. Plus, there's no harm in seeing Yunho’s reaction.

You step out of the room, and Yunho is skimming between channels, trying to find a different movie to watch.

When Yunho hears your footsteps approaching the living room, he turns around to look at you, expecting to see you in his clothes. However, what he sees leaves his heart nearly stopping. There you stand, wearing nothing but his hoodie, your legs exposed and on full display. 

Yunho's breath catches in his throat, and he swallows deeply, trying to suppress the flood of sensations and indecent thoughts that surge through his mind. His cheeks flush a deep shade of red, and he is unable to tear his eyes away from you, his gaze inadvertently lingering on your enticing figure.

In this moment, he finds himself captivated by your beauty and the unexpected intimacy of the situation, struggling to maintain his composure. The sight of you in his hoodie was something he had never expected, and it sends his heart and mind into a whirlwind of emotions and desires.

"What's wrong?" you inquire, noticing the wide-eyed and bright red expression on Yunho's face as he gazes at you with an intensity you haven't seen before.

It is as if a switch has flipped in Yunho's mind, and suddenly, confidence takes over his being. You watch in amazement as he stands up from the couch and moves with a determined purpose towards you. 

With each step, it is evident that he is almost out of breath, his chest heaving with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. He stops in front of you, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. For a moment, you feel like you are the only person in the world for him, and the possessiveness in his gaze doesn’t go unnoticed.

Yunho's large hands land gently on your shoulders, and they slowly trail down to clasp yours. His touch is electrifying, and as he guides you backward, you soon find yourself pressed against the wall, pinned there by his presence. The air seems charged with an unspoken desire, and you can’t help but be captivated by this new side of Yunho.

Yunho murmurs your name, his voice thick with desire and uncertainty. He continues, "You can tell me to stop if you want..."

You don’t hesitate for a moment. In a hushed, eager tone, you reply, "Yunho, just kiss me for fuck's sake."

Yunho gently cups your cheek, his dark eyes locked onto yours with a mixture of tenderness and desire. Leaning closer, his lips press against your cheek, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as they venture down toward your mouth. He pauses for a moment, watching you closely, his breath brushing across your face, sending shivers down your spine.

With careful consideration, he presses his lips to the corner of your mouth, testing the waters, and eliciting a soft gasp from you. Feeling the tightening grip of your hand on his shirt, he gains the reassurance he needs to continue. Slowly, he deepens the kiss, his lips melding with yours, the softness and warmth sending a wave of astonishment through your body. His lips move against yours and all the feelings of the past few months pour into the kiss.

Yunho delicately probes his tongue into your mouth, you can’t help but respond. Your fingers tighten their hold on his shirt, and a surge of electric sensations course through your body, leaving you breathless and eager for more. 

Yunho's kiss tastes like pure indulgence, a blend of desire and longing that leaves you yearning for more. The feeling is exquisite, and you can’t help but moan softly in response to the intensity of the moment. 

His lips leave yours, trailing down your neck from the curve of your jaw. Soft gasps escape your lips as he explores the sensitive skin of your throat, sending shivers down your spine as he presses you harder against the wall, the heat of the kiss overcoming the two of you. The pleasure is overwhelming, and you instinctively threw your head back, granting him better access to your neck. 

Yunho breaks away from the kiss, a hint of frustration in his eyes as he tosses his glasses aside, irritated by their intrusion. His dark and intense gaze is now fully revealed, making you realise the depth of his desire. Without delay, he reconnects your lips with a hungry passion that leaves you breathless.

His hands begin a journey down your waist, their touch igniting sparks of pleasure. With astonishing ease, he lifts you off your feet, his strength both surprising and exciting. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist, and that is when you feel his hardness prodding you through your underwear. You suddenly feel extremely thankful for not wearing the sweatpants as he now has easier access to where you want him most.

Yunho carries you toward his bedroom with an air of urgency, his strides confident and determined. With a swift, well-placed kick, he sends the bedroom door wide open.

He gently sits on the edge of the mattress, you find yourself in his lap, the warmth of his body enveloping you. The world outside fades into insignificance, and you are left with a sense of anticipation that sends shivers down your spine. The connection between you and Yunho grew stronger, and the intensity of the moment only heightened your desire for one another.

Yunho’s hands travel to your hips, where he kneads the flesh appreciatively. With a calculated move, he pushes you down onto himself, grinding you against his hardness. This causes the both of you to moan into the kiss, the both of you addicted to the sound.

“Yunho, please,” you mutter into the kiss, needing relief that you know Yunho will provide.

“What do you want, beautiful?” Yunho groans back against your lips when he feels you grinding yourself onto him.

“You.” you say with confidence, “always been you.” you declare and it has Yunho’s heart racing even faster in his chest.

Yunho realises the fun he can have in this situation, and he feels addicted to the control he has over you. You bury your face into Yunho’s neck, your embarrassment becoming apparent.

“How badly?” Yunho teases as he places long hot kisses on the side of your neck.

“Please Yunho, please.” usually you would feel humiliated, yet you have no time to feel any form of embarrassment, your desire is too strong. With a swift yet tender movement, Yunho deftly flips the two of you over, your back now resting on the plush comfort of his bed. He settles between your open legs, the space between you filled with electrifying anticipation as the world around you blurred into obscurity. 

“Since you’re such a good girl, I have to take care of you, don’t I?”

Yunho's transformation is nothing short of mesmerising. The once innocent aura that surrounded him has gone, replaced by a commanding presence that leaves your head spinning. It is as if he has unlocked a hidden side of himself, and the intensity of his actions and words leave you completely captivated and yearning for more.

With a gentle motion, Yunho pulls the hoodie off, revealing your bare chest to his hungry eyes. He takes in the sight of your naked top half and your panties and it is better than all the times he has imagined it. Your nipples immediately harden in the chilly air and you hastily rush to cover yourself.

“Do not,” Yunho's gentle yet commanding voice holds you in its sway, preventing you from covering yourself. He takes hold of your wrists, his words alone enough to convey his desire, and you obediently nod in agreement, unable to resist his irresistible influence.

“Gorgeous,” he whispers as he scans over your body.

Yunho begins to leave soft kisses across your collar bones, reaching your shoulders and neck as he simultaneously massages the flesh of your breast. He leaves open mouthed kisses on your skin, suckling and biting marks into your skin that only he gets to see.

Slowly, he takes one nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, sucking it, and biting the sensitive nub, an action that has you arching and moaning into his touch.

“You sound so beautiful moaning for me.” Yunho growls before moving to your other nipple and giving it the same attention, making sure to watch your every reaction.

In an agonising pace, Yunho trails his kisses down and you can almost feel yourself shaking from excitement as he nears where you need him the most.

You almost explode the second you feel Yunho’s mouth trailing along your thighs, his teeth nipping at the sensitive flesh.

Yunho chuckles darkly when he hears your excited gasps and moans, the sounds are like a beautiful melody to him, causing him to want more.

Yunho's sudden act of sitting up to remove his jumper catches your attention, and your eyes remain fixated on him. What you see beneath his clothes surprises you. His toned, well-defined upper body, his waist is slender, his shoulders are broad, giving him a somewhat hourglass-like figure. While he isn’t overly muscular, his physique was indeed a captivating sight. Chiselled abs adorn his stomach, and an irresistible desire wells up within you, compelling you to kiss every inch of his flawless skin.

Yunho's chest swells with pride as he observes your intense gaze on his body. He can hardly believe the turn of events and the desire he sees in your eyes.

Yunho smirks as your hands fumble towards his belt, desperately wanting his pants off. 

"Patience, doll," Yunho asserts, his voice exuding confidence as he helps you remove his belt.

Left in only his boxers, you can see his length outlined through his black boxers and your breath is momentarily taken away. He is big, very big. You cannot help but let out a whimper of desperation as you look back up Yunho, who has a cocky grin on his features.

Leaning down, he starts placing light kisses on your stomach and thighs, getting close, but not quite close enough for your liking.

Instinctively, you run your fingers through his locks, trying to push him closer to where you need him. You hear Yunho chuckle at your eagerness, his heart racing knowing you want him as much as he wants you.

You watch Yunho’s every move, wanting to imprint every moment deep into your memory.

Yunho presses a gentle kiss against your clothed core, eliciting a soft mewl from your lips and Yunho hums in appreciation. You feel your whole body heat up in embarrassment as Yunho pulls your panties down, tossing them to the side of the room. You attempt to close your legs, feeling extremely exposed. Yunho feels himself losing self control as he looks at your soaking core, yet he tells himself to control his urges, wanting to make this last for much longer.

Yunho isn’t pleased with this and he lets out a growl as he speaks, “open those legs and let me see that pretty pussy.”

He grips your thighs, forcing them open and you can't help feel another rush of arousal course through you from his strength. It annoys you how slow he is, taking his time to get where you need him, he is too busy enjoying every small reaction, your desperation and eye fucking you, gauging every one of your gasps and twitches.

Yet the second his lips are on your core, the loud moan you let out is close to a scream and you feel him raviging you. His mouth works expertly against you, his tongue alternating between flicking your clit to lapping at your soaking hole has you seeing stars. 

Your body squirms with pleasure under Yunho's skilled touch, your fingers instinctively weaving into his hair as he eats you like you are his last meal.

“Yunho, please…” your voice is hoarse as you look down at him.

Yunho gazes up at you, a teasing smirk playing on his lips, making your thoughts hazy.

“Please what, pretty?” Yunho questions, yet as you are about to answer, he slips in one of his long fingers into your core. The second he feels your warm walls around him, he feels himself fighting the urge to destroy you right there and then. You jolt at the sensation, tears lining your eyes because of how desperate you are to be filled by him.

“Want you…need you…” you say, your voice shaky as you throw your head back against the pillow.

“Oh baby,” Yunho tuts, his voice almost condescending as he stares up at your fucked out state, “your pussy is so tight, I need to prep you before, don’t want you to get hurt.” 

Yunho's words send another wave of desire coursing through your veins. The contrast between his stern tone and his evident care for your well-being leaves you feeling both dizzy and achingly needy.

“You don't want to get hurt, do you now?” Yunho questions, gently slapping your thigh to get your attention back on him.

“No, I don’t,” you exclaim, doing anything to please the man in front of you. 

“Good girl,” 

He's ruthless, entering another finger into your wet hole, his tongue alternating sucks and nips on your clit. With ease, he manages to find the spot inside you that sets fireworks through you and you feel the coil in your belly starting to tighten in pleasure. 

"So fucking good, doll." He groans, his face pressed against your core has your cunt throbbing. “Can you even take my dick? I don’t want to hurt you when you’re being so good for me.”

You feel yourself on the edge of an orgasm, desperate to topple over the edge. All you need is a little encouragement, and you're extremely glad Yunho is so good at reading you.

“Let loose, baby. Be a good girl and cum on my fingers.” 

You let out a loud moan, almost a scream as your orgasm hits you and Yunho holds your shaking body down, licking your clit softly as you finish.

Before you can finish riding through your high, Yunho continues to kiss your pussy gently while adding a finger, the sudden stretch in your hole has you whining and writhing around from the sensitivity, his rough movements from his long fingers has you shaking even more. You beg for him to slow down and, thankfully he leans back, a satisfied smirk on his face as he watches you twitch beneath him.

Before you can comment on anything, Yunho leans down and captures you in another heated kiss, and you moan when you can taste yourself on his lips, a new rush of arousal flooding through your body.

“Do you want to keep going? We can stop if you want to.” Yunho's voice, filled with concern, warms your heart, but you can't help the groan that escapes your lips. 

"I’d love to continue," you rush on your words, your enthusiasm unabated. Chuckling at your eagerness, Yunho moves back slightly, running a hand through his hair as he gazes down at you, a mix of pride and desire evident in his eyes as he looks at your fucked out state.

“Wait shit, I don't know if i have a condom,” Yunho says, worried as he ruffles through his bedside table, not able to find any.

“Wait really?” you question, not even the slightest bit worried about him not having a condom, in fact you almost try to hide your excitement, “it’s okay.” 

“What?” 

“We don't need it, I'm on the pill.” You exclaim, pulling him by his hand closer to you, so he sits on the bed next to you.

Yunho is taken aback by your boldness, yet he finds it extremely hard to hide his excitement. The low groan that escapes his lips doesn't go unnoticed by you, further fueling the growing intensity of the moment. Yunho looks up at you, his eyes dark as he studies your face for any form of discomfort. When he doesn't see any, he almost moans at the thought of finishing inside of you. “Fuck, baby. You're going to be the death of me.”

The second Yunho removes his boxers, your mouth is almost watering at the sight of his length. Not only is he long, but he is girthy, standing tall. Your mouth hangs slightly open as you take in the sight. You can feel your pussy throbbing at the thought of how well he is going to stretch you out.

“Like what you see?” Just like that, the caring Yunho is once again replaced with the cocky Yunho that you just love.

Instead of firing the bratty comment that is on the tip of your tongue, you simply nod your head, too overcome with the need for him to just destroy you.

Yunho leans over you again, spreading your legs wide to fit right between them, he takes his time rubbing up and down your slit, gathering your arousal to lube himself up. Your whines and whimpers are like music to his ears, and he doesn't know if he can ever get enough of you like this.

Lining up with your entrance, he takes his time to gently slide just the tip in, causing you to gasp lightly. Yunho buries his head into your neck, biting his lip as he attempts to maintain his composure. He knows he needs to take it slow in order to not hurt you, but the way you are clenching around him has his mind spinning with arousal.

He gets back up, his intense gaze watching your every expression as he eases himself in, going at a steady pace. The sting is definitely present and you squint at the light pain.

“Deep breaths, beautiful. You’re doing so well.” 

You grab his toned arms as he pushes himself further in, his own breaths getting shallow as he feels your warm walls envelop his length.

‘Stay focused, Yunho,’ he thinks to himself, over and over, desperately trying to keep his composure, yet it proves more difficult by every passing second that your tight pussy sucks him in.

Pleasure surges through you but the only thing you are able to focus on is how full you feel. Your breath catches in your throat and you tense up as he gradually bottoms out, groaning, "So big."

“Yeah, does it feel good?” Yunho’s voice is raspy as he cages you in his arms, his eyes scanning your face.

“So good… please move.” is all you manage to say.

Yunho starts with some slow, teasing thrusts dragging his cock out before pushing it back in and it has you mewling out in pleasure.

“Fuck you’re so tight,” Yunho chokes out, his sanity practically gone as he feels your tight walls hugging his cock so nicely.

The beautiful sight of him on top of you, sweaty and lust ridden has you moaning and clenching around his cock. Wrapping your arms tightly around his strong back, your nails dig into his skin as he increases his pace. 

"Does this feel good, pretty?"

You are only able to manage out a moan of approval, letting him know, yes, he is doing good. Yunho chuckles against your skin as you let out noises of pleasure, every one spurring him on and making him desperate to make you finish again. In a purposeful movement, Yunho leans his hips back slightly, so his cock is angled in a way where it hits your g spot perfectly with every thrust. Yunho knows he has found it the second your words and moan become a mixed blabbing mess, with this he smirks. He almost doesn't want to stop, he is having too much fun with you.

Yunho grunts as he starts thrusting even faster, his hand coming down to flick your clit, needing you to come on his cock. He needs you to finish before him.

You feel your orgasm approaching fast, and Yunho can tell by the way you clench and claw at his arms, pulling him down to lock him in a heated kiss, he swallows your moans and whimpers happily.

Yunho pulls away from your swollen lips to bury his face in your neck, whispering praise into your ear. 

“Who is making you feel this good, doll?” he whispers in his deep voice, “do you want to cumm, pretty girl? Be a good girl and cum on my big dick, I know you want to.”  

The coil in your belly tightens even more, your legs starting to shake around him as you moan out his name pathetically. 

“That’s it, beautiful, milk my cock dry.” 

“Need to cum,”

Yunho’s chest tightens at the desperate tone in your voice and for a moment, he knows he is definitely able to get used to your desperate whines.

“Go ahead, baby cum for me, let the whole neighbourhood know how good I’m making you feel.”

That's all it takes for the coil in your stomach to snap, and your orgasm hits you hard. Intense pleasure ripples through you like tsunami waves, shaking your whole body and making your toes curl as your fingernails dig into his arms. The sensation overwhelms you as your world narrows down to the electrifying connection you share with Yunho.

Yunho follows in suit, his hips stuttering as he cums deep inside of you, his choked swears and moans in your ear as he wraps his strong arms around you, securing you in a tight embrace as the two of you ride out your orgasms.

After a few moments of silence, the only sounds to be heard in the room are the deep inhales and exhales of you and Yunho, the two of you lost in the aftermath of your passionate encounter. The intimacy lingers in the air, wrapping around you like a warm, comfortable blanket.

Yunho gently sits up, his arms shaky as he tries to regain his composure. A layer of sweat covers his face, and even in the low light of his room, you think he looks absolutely handsome. His dishevelled hair and flushed cheeks only add to his charm, and you can't help but admire him as he catches his breath.

Slowly, he pulls out, his seed spilling out of your swollen hole, a sight which has Yunho getting hard once again, yet he pushes the thoughts to the side and quickly rushes to the bathroom to grab a washcloth for you.

You can't help but feel a wave of insecurity and vulnerability as Yunho steps away to fetch the washcloth. The moment he disappears from your sight, a rush of unease washes over you, and tears begin to pool in your eyes. You never expected this level of intimacy, and now, seeing him leave even briefly, you fear he might be having second thoughts.

When he returns with the washcloth, he immediately notices the glistening tears in your eyes. Panic sets in, and he rushes to your side, cradling you in his arms.

"What's wrong?" he asks, his voice filled with genuine concern. "Did I do something to upset you?"

You sniffle and shake your head. "I'm sorry. I thought you disappeared for good, and I got scared."

Yunho's expression softens as he caresses your cheek, his thumb gently wiping away a tear. "Oh, baby, I would never do that. I promise you, I'm here for you. I'm so sorry for putting that thought in your mind."

He holds you close, offering the warmth and comfort you desperately need, reassuring you that he's not going anywhere.

“Yunho?” You look towards Yunho, whose gaze is already set on you with an affectionate gaze. Tenderly, he pushes a stray hair behind your ear, and a sense of comfort washes over you.

Leaning down, he places a soft kiss on your forehead, murmuring, "Yes, baby?"

Your heart flutters at the endearment as you continue, "What are we?"

Yunho raises an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a warm smile. He knew this question was coming, and he's more than prepared to answer. "Well, if you'll have me, I'd love to be your nerdy boyfriend."

A surge of happiness fills you, and you can't hold back your grin. "Only if you'll have me as your 'not so nerdy' girlfriend?"

Yunho chuckles and cups your face with his hands, sealing the moment with a sweet kiss. "Deal," he whispers against your lips, his arms wrapping even harder around you, securing you in a warm embrace.

“Let’s clean you up, pretty.”

—

“Sitting in Professor Turner's office, you're feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness. Yunho is right beside you, his presence giving you comfort and assurance. Professor Turner, the mentor you deeply respect, and her opinion matters greatly to you. You've been working tirelessly to improve your grades, and this is the moment of reckoning. To tell whether you are going to be expelled or not.

Professor Turner reviews your recent exam results, and you can't help but glance at Yunho. He's been your constant support, helping you study, explaining complex concepts, and motivating you to push your limits. There's a fond smile on his face, his warm eyes reflecting his pride in your accomplishments.

Finally, Professor Turner finishes her review and looks up at you with an encouraging smile. "I don't know how you did it, but your grades have not only improved, they have excelled. You are somehow one of the best in my class right now."

Your heart swells with pride as you realise the significance of her words. Tears fill your eyes and you feel the heavy weight that has been on your heart for months finally lift.

Yunho's proud smile widens, and the love in his eyes grows even more apparent. You feel a deep sense of accomplishment and happiness, knowing that with his help and your dedication, you've managed to exceed your own expectations and impress one of your most respected professors.

You look over at Yunho, gratitude shining in your eyes, and say,

"Well, I had an amazing tutor."

{i didnt proof read this, so if you see mistakes i apologise, im very tired}

[gggukniverse]

take me down slow | jjk

title: take me down slow

pairing: jeon jungkook x f!reader

genre: m, smut, established relationship au

summary: jungkook is back home from work and even if you've missed him a lot, you let him rest tonight. though, out of all night, you have a wet dream tonight. and even if jungkook is tired, he's happy to take care of you.

warnings: dom!jk sub!reader, needy reader and sleepy koo 🥹, a little bit of oral (m receiving), a little bit of fingering too, unprotected sex (pls be safe), degradation (jk calls reader a whore like one time), daddy kink, kink discovery, creampie, just basically some lazy sleepy sex... until it's not so lazy.

wordcount: 2.2k

note: HELLO !!! 🫡 this is just a little story i wrote a long time ago and since part 3 of basic needs is still a work in progress i wanted to give you something to read while you wait :) this one is not edited at all so don't expect the greatest thing. either way, i hope you enjoy it 🩷

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you open your eyes with a gasp and when you take in the dark room you realize it was just a dream. it felt too real. you can almost still feel jungkook”s hands all over your body, well, you kind of actually feel them now.

jungkook is fast asleep by your side, your legs tangled together while your arm is thrown over his middle and his is wrapped around your waist to keep you close to him even in his unconscious state.

he came home from work yesterday, it’s been almost four weeks since the last time you two were together but that’s what being an international star does to his schedule. he got home late in the afternoon and you only got to prepare dinner together and share a comfortable and much needed talk during dinner before he said he was so jet lagged and he needed to go to sleep. you needed him so bad but didn’t say a word, just went to bed with him and fell asleep together.

but out of all nights, you had to have a stupid wet dream tonight.

you’re actually sweating, your skin is hot and your underwear is starting to feel uncomfortable because you can feel it’s soaked. and jungkook is sleeping. he’s peacefully sleeping with his pouty mouth and furrowed eyebrows. you feel so bad but you need him even more, so you guess you can feel bad about it tomorrow morning.

you shift a little and get closer to his neck, giving his skin sweet little kisses as you slowly start to rut your hips against him to try and find any kind of friction on your crotch. like a bitch in heat, that’s what you feel like.

a groan escapes jungkook’s mouth at one specific suck to the side of his neck and his hand twitches where it’s placed on your waist.

“baby.” you whisper in his ear.

“yeah...” he only groans with that sleepy rasp to his voice you missed so much.

“i’m so horny.” you whine as you keep rutting against his hip.

that comment alone seems to wake jungkook up. he lifts his head a little to look down at you with what you suppose is an arched eyebrow, the little light in the room coming from the city lights through the window.

“baby.. .” he says and drops his head back on the pillow, closing his eyes again. he’s tired. you feel so bad.

“i’m sorry, i.. fuck..” you feel like crying but god, you’re so horny you don’t even think your brain is working anymore.

“it’s okay, baby.” jungkook mumbles and his hand that was on your waist goes down to squeeze one of your asscheeks out of nowhere, making you whimper on his neck.

“kook.. so horny..”

“mhm.. i know.” you swear if he keeps talking with that raspy voice you could come completely untouched.

“want you so bad.” your hand goes down to cup him over his sweatpants. he’s soft but you can definitely feel him twitching a little at the contact.

“make me hard, baby.” jungkook squeezes your asscheek again, making you moan.

“yes!” you quickly get up on your knees and throw the comforter away from his body, wasting no time in pushing his sweats down.

“good girl.” your boyfriend praises, his hand going to your hair when you bend over to blow air on his soft dick teasingly.

“missed you so much,” you take him into your hand and start giving his head little licks, feeling it slowly starting to harden on your hand. “missed your cock in my mouth.”

“missed your mouth too.” jungkook hums as he brushes your hair out of your face so he can see you.

“you’re so hot..” you whine when you feel him getting to full hardness just in a matter of seconds. you put it in your mouth, your lips wrapping around him and drowning in the groan that escapes jungkook’s mouth.

“that’s my girl.” the praise makes you so wet you could feel it running down your thighs if your underwear wasn’t soaking all of it.

you bob your head a few times to get him wet enough and pull away with a desperate moan, “kook, i need you.”

“i know, come here.” he pats his thighs. you work quickly, sitting down on his thighs and leaning down to catch his lips in a desperate kiss, trying not to grind against his cock.

“i love you.”

“i love you too baby,” jungkook chuckles fondly against your mouth. “c’mon, sit that pretty pussy on this cock, yeah?” he gives you one last kiss before putting his hands on your waist lifting the big shirt —his shirt— so he can take it off.

you’re only wearing your panties so as soon as the shirt hits the floor, jungkook groans at the sight even through te darkness in the room.

“pretty baby.” he praises, running his hands up and down your sides as you sit back on his thighs.

“i’m so wet.” you mutter, looking down at where you’re sitting in one of his thighs.

“yeah, can fucking feel it,” jungkook says. “would make you ride my thigh, but i want you on my cock,” he easily lifts you up by your hips and positions you on top of him. “take them off.”

you sit up for a second to take the ruined panties off and throw them away before sitting back down on top of him, your most sensitive part just above his cock.

“let me feel you,” jungkook brings one of his hands down and you choke on a moan when his fingers start running through your wet folds. “fuck yeah, that’s my whore, huh?”

“kook,” you whimper, grinding your hips against his hand. “fuck yes...” a little moan escapes through your lips when he slips two fingers inside.

“so little resistance, are you this needy for cock?” jungkook hums in question and you almost cry out as he slips another finger inside. you don’t tell him you’ve been using toys while he was away. either way, his fingers always feel better than any toy.

“yes, need your cock baby.”

“c’mon, sit on it.” he gives your pussy a wet slap that makes your thighs twitch for a second and then grabs the base of his cock to make it easier for you.

“okay.” you whisper and lower down, positioning on top of his cock and moaning absurdibly high when jungkook decides to drag the head of his cock through your folds.

“so wet.” he mumbles.

you think you might die if you don’t have him inside you now so you start to sink down on his cock slowly, both of you moaning in unison, until you’re sitting on top of him with his entire length inside.

“missed you so much.” you whine, feeling like you could cry.

“i missed you too baby,” he puts his hands on your hips. “so much.”

you stay there for a while, just feeling him inside as you bend down to kiss him again. he wraps his arms around you and kisses you back with so much passion you’re out of breath seconds later.

“pretty.” he looks up at you with that type of smile that makes your knees weak and you straighten up again, putting your hands on his chest for balance.

“you feel so good, kook.” you tell him because you need him to know.

“mh... yeah?” asshole.

“yes.” you moan and start grinding your hips for your pleasure, still not giving him what he wants.

“i can’t fucking see anything right now but i’m sure you’re creaming my cock so good, right?” the words make you clench around him with a whine and you hear him groan at the feeling. “so fucking tight.”

but you eventually sit up a little, letting him pull out until only his head is inside you and slowly sink down on him again. you do it slowly, still tired from how little you must’ve slept, but jungkook seems fine with it. little hums and groans escape his mouth sometimes but the time he lets out a high-pitched moan you clench so hard around him, making him moan again and grip on your hips for dear life.

“baby, god...” he breathes out. it’s clear he’s still sleepy, but it’s so fucking hot.

you lose yourself the moment his tip grazes against that spot, your hips grinding desperately for him to keep hitting it. but jungkook helps you by bending his legs a little, planting his feet on the mattress and starting to thrust up into you.

hard. you didn’t think he could be on his full potential when he’s as sleepy as he is now, but he proves you wrong fucking you so hard that you fall on top of him, your bare chest against his clothed one. yes, also the fact that he’s still half clothed and you’re completely naked makes you even wetter. but he’s slow, he gives your deep and hard thrusts but still doesn’t do it fast.

“oh my– fuck...” you breathe out against his neck, not being able to move anymore.

“feels good, baby?” he doesn’t stop fucking you, his hands also pulling your hips down to meet his thrusts so hard you know you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.

“yes daddy,” the word slips out of your mouth before you can even process it and you feel jungkook stopping completely. “fuck...” you whisper and hide your face on his neck in embarrassment. “i’m sorry, i don’t know why i said that.”

“daddy?” jungkook asks and you hate the way you don’t know what he’s thinking right now.

“i’m so sorry... fuck, that was so weird– i’m sorry baby.”

“no, let daddy hear you baby.” he suddenly starts thrusting up inside you and you let out a scream.

“kook! oh my god!” he’s fast now. fast and hard. your whole body is completely limp on top of his.

“that’s not my name, babe.”

oh fuck.

“d– daddy..” you stutter because you can’t even form words right now.

“there you go.” he chuckles and fuck, how can he chuckle while fucking you so hard, you can’t even form a single thought in your brain right now.

“fuck!” you whine when his tip keeps brushing against that sweet spot. “i’m so– i’m so close, daddy.”

“gonna cum?” he hums.

“yeah...” you cry out and the chuckle he lets out makes you clench incredibly hard around his cock.

“gonna cum on daddy’s cock?”

“fuck! yeah... yes, yes, please.” you mumble dumbly, feeling closer and closer everytime he speaks.

“please what?” jungkook hums as his hips keep that punishing pace that has you seeing stars.

“please let me cum,” you beg. “please daddy.”

“cum for me, baby.”

your orgasm washes over your whole body like a wave, leaving your legs shaking as you fall completely limp on top of his body while he keeps thrusting to cum just a few seconds after.

“fuck...” jungkook groans as he fills you up, the sensation making you squirm a little on top of him. “that’s my good girl.” he mumbles as he rubs your back up and down soothingly.

“i missed you.” you say and finally lift your head up to leave a little kiss on his lips.

“i missed you too baby,” you can see his smile even through the dark. “i’m gonna turn us around, okay?” he warns and you just nod, letting him hug your waist to flip you two around so that he’s the one on top.

“it’s gonna be messy.” you giggle as he positions himself on his knees to pull out.

“it’s okay, i’ll change the sheets now.” jungkook shrugs and starts to pull out, making you hiss a little in discomfort but sigh when you instantly feel his cum spilling out of you and straight onto the sheets.

you can’t help but giggle again when jungkook sits back and looks down, like he’s admiring the view.

“like what you see... daddy?” you tease as you slide your hand down your body until you get to your pussy and slip two fingers inside.

“you don’t know what you’re doing to me.” he rubs his hands up and down your thighs as he keeps his eyes down where you’re gathering some of his cum with your fingers. a low groan leaves his mouth when you bring your messy fingers to your mouth and suck on them, tasting him on them.

“missed your taste.”

“you better stop that shit before i get hard again,” he warns you and you break in laughter. “wanna have a quick shower?” he asks.

“yeah, i’m a little sweaty and i feel gross.” you nod as you sit up. he nods.

“mh, i’ll change the sheets while you shower, okay? i’ll join you in a minute.”

“okay.” you smile and lean closer to him to steal another sweet kiss before getting up from the bed and making your way to the bathroom, turning the lights on first.

“baby.”

you turn around at that and jungkook looks up and down your naked body before saying, “i really missed you.”

you smile. “i missed you too.”

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A/N: i hope you liked this story !!!!! please feel free to comment or send me an ask telling me what you thought of it, feedback helps a lot ! see you in the next one :) 🫂💐

[sainns]

PILLOW TALK.

𝓢.ㅤ calling jay after a nightmare.

PJSㅤ୨୧ ⠀ femreader⠀ . . .ㅤ fluff, hurt/comfort, i'll be honest jay is barely in this, established relationship, this is purely self indulgent, it's implied that reader gets nightmares pretty chronically, semi-proofread ㅤ1255 words

you wake up sweating, your heart racing as you take deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself down. you don't remember a lot, the memory of it already disappearing, but you know that you had a nightmare—a bad one at that. one of your biggest fears made ten times worse, all thanks to your subconscious.

you press your hands against your face, sighing deeply while slowly sitting up in your bed. you look around the darkened room, your heart beginning to race again. the dark makes everything seem worse after you wake, as if everything that happened in your dreams could happen in real life. you glance at your nightstand—you really should invest in a lamp or something.

you've been having nightmares for the past few weeks, each one seemingly worse than the one before it. you haven't woken up this scared before, though. it seems like no matter how hard you try to push it from your mind, it comes right back. you don't even know what fully happened in your dream, so why are you so scared?

it isn't real and it won't ever be real, you say to yourself like a mantra, hoping you can get rid of the fear that's overtaken you. it doesn't really work—your mind doesn't believe what you're telling it, even though it's true.

reaching over to grab your phone from your nightstand, you let out another sigh. these nightmares are becoming an issues, you haven't slept well in what feels like forever. you unlock your phone, opening your contacts and scrolling until you see his—'jay <3', contact photo a close up of him that you had taken while he was sleeping a few months into your relationship.

your finger hovers over the call button. you want to call him but should you? he did say that you could call him whenever but did he really mean that? surely calling him at almost four in the morning isn't in the timeframe that he had meant.

but after a few moments of debate, you decide to call him—the fact that you heard something coming from the living room definitely did not help you make the decision.

you click the call button, holding your phone up to your ear. you listen as it rings, anxiously chewing on your bottom lip.

a small part of you hopes that he doesn't answer, not wanting to explain to him why you're calling this late into the night. a bigger part does hope that he answers, though, so you can't help but feel a little disappointed when he doesn't pick up. it is late, he's probably asleep, of course he wouldn't answer.

you frown, setting your phone aside—looks like you'll just have to get over it and go back to sleep or stay up the rest of the night, your sleep schedule be damned. you figure you might as well do something productive rather than fall asleep just to be woken up again.

right when you're slipping out of bed, mentally preparing yourself to make the at least eight-step journey to tour on your bedroom light, your phone lights up, buzzing against the wooden surface of your nightstand.

your boyfriend's contact name lights your phone up and you pause, your eyes widening. you did not expect him to call you back right now—maybe in the morning when he inevitably woke up confused by the late night call—you assumed you would have more time to come up with a believable excuse that's not something as silly as a nightmare (which you don't even remember).

you're in shock for too long because you miss the call but he calls back right away and this time you answer him on the second ring, moving back into the bed, as you put him on speaker.

"he—"

"hi, baby, are you alright? sorry i missed your call, i didn't hear my phone ring,"

you could tell he had just woken up from his voice—it was deep and raspy, not to mention the slight slur in his words that most likely stemmed from his drowsiness.

"i'm okay, you don't have to be sorry. did i wake you up?"

"nah, you didn't," he's lying, "why'd you call then? are you sure you're okay? do you want me to go over?"

your head spins at the amount of questions he asked in what was most likely ten seconds. you can't help but melt a little—it feels nice to have someone worry for you—and stifle a giggle, it's a little funny hearing how worried jay is when he usually acts calm around you.

that's what he is—a calming presence in your life. when you're spend the night with him the nightmares that you've been having are suddenly nowhere to be seen. he's like your personal dreamcather.

you smile, letting out an amused breath, "i'm okay, i just had... a nightmare, it's not a big deal. it's late, you don't have to come over,"

"you sure? i swear it's not a big deal and i can if you need me to,"

"yeah, i'm sure,"

"if you change your mind tell me, okay?"

"okay," the conversation ends at that, the two of you sitting on the phone in silence. you should've said bye and hung up, but you can't bring yourself to do it. just being on the phone with him brought you the comfort that you'd been wanting, heart now racing for a completely different reason. your mind is taken off the darkness that you're enveloped in, instead focusing on jay and the sound of him moving around in his bed.

"...want me to stay on the phone with you?" he breaks the three minute silence, a hint of amusement in his voice, "or did you change your mind already?"

you grimace at the teasing, pulling your comforter up to your chin, trying to hide even though he can't see you. you stay silent, trying to convince yourself to just ask him—he's your boyfriend, there's no reason to be scared, "no... but can you just talk to me?"

"mhm, 'course, pretty girl. about what?"

"anything,"

"remember when i told you i liked you?" you can hear the smile in his voice.

"that's... talk about something else, that's still embarrassing,"

he laughs loudly, no doubt thinking about how badly you embarrassed yourself in that moment. it wasn't too bad, thinking back on it, but you're yet to get over how you acted. it was... a dark moment.

"it was cute," and he obviously disagrees with your sentiment.

"just talk about anything else,"

he spares you his teasing and listens to your request, responding by telling you about his day—even though you were with him for half of it—about his morning, what he did after he dropped you off at your apartment (he argued with his roommate), how in his friends' groupchat they were all trying to convince heeseung to confess to the girl he likes.

it was four when he called and you fall asleep an hour later, your eyes heavy as jay's soft voice lulls you to sleep. you sleep good—if you forget about the nightmare earlier that night—waking up the next morning to a text message from your boyfriend. you smile softly, assuming that he must have hung up after you finally fell asleep.

unlocking your phone, you read the message and immediately you feel the butterflies that show up whenever jay does anything in your stomach—"I love you and next time I'm going over, no matter how late it is".

note. girl who gets nightmares just wants jay to comfort her 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️ anyways confession fic coming soon Maybw

[akuma-coffee]

may i request for !tattooartist geto :333 love your writingggg !!!

suguru geto x reader tattoo au!!

sfw, reader gets tattooed, totally a cute comfort scenario! geto and reader totally end up dating at some point after this >.<

geto suguru, an artist you've followed for a little while; a respected figure within tokyo's tattoo scene. after contacting him regarding a flash piece, he'd responded quickly to say his books were full, but as you're a friend of satoru's, he would fit you in after hours.

the date preoccupied you all week, a churning within the pits of your stomach when you envisioned the needle puncturing your skin. this isn't your first tattoo but it's your first with geto - someone you had only admired, never spoken to. satoru was usually the one to push ink under your skin, a friendship blossoming somewhere along the way when he'd invited you out for drinks.  "not, like a date - other people will be there..." the machine stops and he withdraws, and you laugh.  "yeah, alright." 

some years later and you're still reaping the perks of befriending the gojo satoru; discounted tattoos, and now, you're able to get inked by someone you've admired for a long while.  you've been in the shop after hours once or twice (day sessions running a little over schedule), though never with anyone other than satoru. 

it's odd seeing the shop from the outside while it's lingering into evening, streetlights brighter than the ebbing sun, the shop's florescent white peering through slats in the blinds. your fist rasps over the glass door, eyes lingering momentarily over the closed sign before geto's pushing keys under the handle and your lips are forced upward into a friendly smile. 

"hi, it's me..." you're a little awkward, but geto's already been briefed on your personality through satoru; he knew what to expect. he returns the smile and steps to one side, allowing you to pass through the doorway before it's closed behind you, locked again. 

there's the usual dividers in the shop, though at this time they're no longer housing artists and clients, instead darkened by the lack of headlamps or ring lights, the framed ink of each person's flash or prided art less vibrant by the missing luminosity. one station is still well lit, though. 

"mind just filling this one out?" geto picks up a clipboard from a seat in the waiting area, a pen latched between the metal teeth. you take it from his hands, pulling the biro out and glossing over the sheet of paper - nothing you haven't done before. "i'll just set up over here, take a seat." 

you do as he says, the small wooden bench by the door groaning as you allow yourself to perch upon it, legs bouncing a little from nerves. your handwriting scrawls over the white page, name, date of birth, allergies... a form you've filled out tens of times. there's the tearing of kitchen roll and you're pulled from your entrancement from the health declaration form and instead gazing at geto. the bed is out of your sight but you can see his height, occasionally dipping down as he leans, setting up clingfilm, pouring ink into the small pots. lastly, he removes his gloves and tugs at the loosened bun that'd been hanging at his neck, placing that little black elastic between his teeth and re-tying the bun much tighter than before.

"all done?" he asks as he glances over his shoulder, and you nod, taking your lips silently between your teeth. hopefully he hadn't noticed you staring. "i'll do the stencil now." he comes to the front desk's computer, and you hear the printer stutter. he takes the clipboard from you, glancing over your answers. "perfect. come on over."

the placement is over your left shoulder, a large spider lily beginning on the shoulder and ending over the collarbone. geto's gloves are on once more, black latex clinging to the skin, and he grabs a small bottle of gel, pouring it over his own fingertips to run over your shoulder. you sit in silence as he draws a small line in sharpie to figure out the central point, occasionally moving your arm. eventually, the stencil is on, and you're glancing in the mirror to check. it's beautiful, perfect.

laying down, you're forced to look at the ceiling tiles. you feel your throat tighten with anxiety, even with experience, getting a tattoo is nerve-wracking. there's that familiar hum of the machine, and your eyes glance to your side as geto's dipping the needle in the pot of ink, allowing black to collect in the tip. "ready?" he asks, flickering from his focus on the machine to you. you're a little lost in his eyes before you're responding, the deep brown hues mesmerising. they're mellow and friendly, relaxing to your anxious state. you nod.

the needle finally penetrates the skin, but despite your discomfort you remain still and loose, focusing on your breathing. in, out. the pain is only a stinging, a prickling that you've grown used to over the years. nothing that you can't handle.

"all okay?" geto asks, and you appreciate the check-in.  "yeah, good thanks." he stretches your skin with his left hand, steadying his right to control the needle. his touch is delicate, gentle as if to ease your nerves, hard focused on the artwork over your skin with a stoic but pointed expression; a furrowed brow. there was something about being tattooed by geto that was so different to satoru, he was so much calmer, almost timid. by now satoru would have to stop from laughing too hard, or offering you candies for the hundredth time. geto was mellow, and it was nice. not to mention the face of concentration he held was cute, his pretty features a match to the art he drew.

"how did you meet satoru?" geto's voice hangs in the air a few minutes after you'd been sat in silence, though his gaze is still transfixed on his work. you smile at the memory, a puff of air from your lips. "he was a regular at the cafe i used to work at, i started in winter and by spring he had buddied up with me. the first time i didn't wear a jumper to work he this god-awful tattoo i got on my 18th birthday, it was my star sign, but looked more like a blob. offered to cover it up at a discounted cost - or if i gave him free chocolates for the week." geto smiles and you don't miss it, peering through your peripheral. "what did you do?" he questions, and you raise your free arm. "i got tattooed."

the hum stops, silence enveloping your ears as geto's attention is diverted to your inner arm, covered in ink he'd recognised to be his close friend's. he squinted as he tried to spot the cover up, and when looking closely he could see the older, blown out ink hiding under more controlled lines. "wow, it looks great. looks like you came back, too."

you nod, relaxing your arm. the buzzing doesn't start straight away, and you peer back to him. "what about you?" you questioned - it felt like he'd been waiting for you to ask. he smiles now, shaking his head. "there's no fun story, we just went to school together. one day i didn't know satoru, the next he was my brother." he raises the machine a little, left hand meeting your skin once again. the thrumming returned, and he glances over your expression before the needle meets your flesh.

"he was a pain in the ass, but he was the reason i went to school every day." a small piece of hair has escaped from the bun, hanging over his forehead. "i almost dropped out, but he kept me in check." you picture satoru in your head, trying to place them together as highschool buddies. they're so different, you wouldn't believe they were so close if satoru hadn't already chewed your ear off over his best friend, and their history together. they've gone through a lot, though you're sure there's so much more you don't know.

"was he as high maintenance in school?" you ask, in attempts to continue the conversation. geto laughs, his teeth peeking through his lips. "worse, somehow. he mellowed out in his twenties." the machine is pulled away and placed on the table beside him, his gloved hand wrapping over a sheet of kitchen roll, a small squeezy bottle in the other. the paper is placed over your shoulder, the liquid poured over alleviating the hot stinging of your skin.

"gonna start on the shading now." geto's eyes bore into your own, and there's a fluttering in your chest.

"are you still working there?" the needle is different now, as is his technique, the machine dragging in faster sweeping motions as he uses a stippling effect. "at the cafe? no, after giving satoru his free chocolates i got fired." geto's expression widens. "it's fine, i work from home most of the time now, no more annoying customers." you inhale sharply as he works on a sensitive area, swallowing back any discontent and putting on a brave face. 

"you're doing really well." he comments on your easily discernible unease, and those words of affirmation go straight to your head. geto flickers up at you, then back down to his work. there's silence for a little while more, the hum of the machine growing to hypnotize you as your vision hangs over the white ceiling.

"want anything? water, or some music?" his voice almost makes you jump as you realise how heavy your eyes had been. they're torn from the tiles above you to meet his face, and the white noise stops. "music would be nice." you reply, and he peels back a glove, using the free skin to unlock his phone. a soft guitar tone meets the air, you vaguely recognise the melody and listen as the chugging continues. it's accompanied by buzzing only moments later.

"it's deftones." he explains, weight shifting on the pedal to gain the momentum the machine had previously held. "how long have you been tattooing?" you try and further converse. "coming onto ten years, got an apprenticeship at twenty. tried art school and dropped out - showed up to some shithole with my portfolio and worked for free until i got good enough. opened this place about six years ago with satoru."

"do you enjoy it?"  "of course, i get to do what i love as a job... that's everyone's dream, isn't it?" he pauses for a moment, wiping over the skin with a scrunched piece of kitchen roll before the needle is brought back.  "yeah." you're quieter as you picture your own dream job. admin certainly wasn't it, but it pays the bills and isn't too taxing. 

"okay, i think we're done." suguru speaks, and repeats the same steps as before, washing the ink with solution before wiping it over. the coolness causes goosebumps to prickle over your skin, a balm applied with gloved hand as you know this will be the last time his fingers linger over this part of your shoulder. you're glad the session has finished, though as you make your way over to the mirror to peer over geto's art, you feel a little heartbroken this is coming to an end.

"oh, it's perfect." the words leave your mouth as you stand in awe, admiring the new ink embedded in your skin. it's breath taking, and exactly what you'd needed to fill in that area. you flicker up to meet his gaze through the reflection, eyes jolting downward when they meet his to instead linger over his arms - you hadn't paid all too much attention to the black lines covering his skin until now. his sweater sleeves are rolled back to his elbows, allowing you to peek at his forearms. it looks like satoru tattoos geto too, his style clear in his work. 

"will i see you around?" geto asks, his demeanour shifting back into shyness. you allow yourself to meet his eye, butterflies coming to swarm within your belly as he awaits your answer.  "definitely." you smile - you're definitely going to be asking satoru more about geto once you're home, you can picture him sussing out your crush instantaneously, though.

pleeease let me know if you want more from this au cause i loved writing this omg!!

[winterzsurprise]

Change My Mind [1]

Pairing: BTS x reader

SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants. Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but what you can't do is accept the fact that they're your soulmates.

Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory

Words: 5k

haha heyy I'm back after a year. Still suffering from writer's block so here's the start of a series I created during it, forcing myself to actually write. There's no set schedule but I'll try my best to do it weekly. That is all and pre-save Neva Play :DD

[1] [2] [3]

__________

Maybe you should've cut off your mother before you went past the age for mark appearances.

If you had then maybe you wouldn't be suffering with the overcompensating rant about an unfortunate man and his bare minimum achievements.

What are you, Bangtan's—The current biggest boyband in the world—makeup artists since their era of wearing thick eyeliners to convey their passion and emo inspired hairstyles, doing, listening to someone's so-called gratifying achievements?

Staring at the source of the grating voice babbling nonsense, you refrain yourself from letting out a heavy sigh.

Jeong Binwoo is a stout man. His roundness is enhanced by the fact that he's an inch or so shorter than you on a good day. His face reminds you of a dumpling, especially now that he's stuffing it with a handful of greasy fries in quick successions. Despite his full mouth, he kept on speaking and you swore a few stray blobs had landed on your plate.

You've only just a week and a half before the start of their tour in Seoul and here you are wasting your time sitting in front of a man whose awareness is limited to only himself when you could've been at work or binging some stupid cliche drama.

Maybe you should've listened to Namjoon's statistical analysis of your dates this year and never bothered going to this meeting as well.

Your mother's recommendations so far had never brought you a man decent enough nor carry an ounce of respect your father has for your mother. Why you still try and date them is a question you've asked yourself one too many times.

His rant was the standard overcompensating life story of a man unfortunate enough to be given an ugly mug and an even uglier fate. A conversation topic you've been subjected to far more often than you'd liked but still smooths out your brain every time you're forced to listen to it. It might not be but it must've been an hour already since he started listing out the same adult milestones he achieved in his 28th year—you've done the same at a younger age, 20 to be exact.

Binwoo reached for your fries shamelessly when his fingers found his bowl empty and you couldn't stop yourself from grimacing this time. 

He was actually decent , compared to the other guys you've met before whose mouth spouted bullshit even the devil himself would gasp at. The man actually bought you a gift and opened and held the door for you.

'How disturbing that you think the bare minimum is a sign of a good man, noona.' A voice suspiciously sounding like Namjoon echoes in your head and you sighed for the nth time that afternoon.

If you weren't so weak against your mother's wishes, you would've been doing work instead of putting up with horrid dates over and over again. You'd willingly take on styling an energetic Jungkook at 6am trying to dodge your brushes and play fights with them then sit in front of another insecure man.

A clang of a metal utensil making contact on the tile took your attention to the two men sitting a few tables in front of you. Suddenly, you're reminded of the lovely bodyguards who have volunteered to watch the mess that is your love life for lunch.

You caught one of their gaze when he looked over his shoulder, pitiful, before kicking his friend's leg and picking up his phone.

Immediately, a vibration rang from your bag and you checked the message as discreetly as you could.

[13:24] Mimi: I feel so bad for you, noona. Is this really how guys are like these days? [13:24] Mimi: It's appalling how he thinks finally getting his own space at 28 is impressive. [13:24] Tete: do you need help? Please say yes, I don't think I can sit through the whole date and hear this bull. [13:25] Tete: Just seeing it is mentally scarring enough, I can't imagine how you're feeling as the one that has to actually listen.

"Hey, are you still listening? I hope I'm not talking too much." A voice interrupts before you could reply.

Looking up from your phone, Binwoo's face now displayed a sheepish smile, the smear of ketchup on the edge of his lips not going unnoticed. His greasy hand had reached behind his head to scratch the back of his nape and you had to gather every strength in your body to not grimace when the same fingers he ate with met scalp.

You try not to notice how oily and stiff his hair already looked. You really tried.

You shook your head despite wanting it all to end for the sake of appearing respectful and the man immediately continued his empty boasting, the same hand he scratched his neck returning to claw down at your fries without another thought and immediately your phone pings again.

[13:29] Mimi: did he just  [13:29] Mimi: did he just eat with the same hand he scratched with? On your plate of fries? [13:29] Mimi: I'm gonna barf [13:30] Mimi: Please free us from this torture, noona. My heart can only take so much [13:30] Tete: Screw this, we're going back. I can't do this anymore

A screech of a chair being dragged through tile took your attention back to the masked men in front of you and saw the tall and imposing form of Taehyung marching towards your table, brown beanie hiding his dyed hair and a black mask covering half of his face.

"The fucking gull you have to show your face here after you ran away with my heart last week!"

You sigh internally and hope he's not about to choose an embarrassing trope to follow through this time.

If he takes on another dramatic golden-spooned CEO character who throws tantrums when he can't do or get what he wants, you might just stab yourself with the butter knife next to you. Witnessing and being on the receiving end of his tantrums, even if it's acting, in such a public place like the park once is enough.

With a silent wish that Tae has picked a good trope to follow this time, you followed his lead.

Comically widening your eyes, your gaze bounced from Taehyung and Binwoo with a mystified look before sputtering out a reply.

"Wo-Wooyoung! I thought you went back to the states! How's being home again feels like?"

"Is this how you're gonna be? You're just gonna act like everything's alright after you took my youth ?!"

A couple of gasps erupted from the guests around you, in the seas of scandalized reactions there's a burst of hushed giggles from one guy in black from a particular table and you refrain yourself from glaring at his ducked head and shaking shoulders. The phone pointed in your direction didn't go unnoticed, no doubt recording it all from start to finish to send to the group chat as he always does.

Ever your biggest supporter.

At this point, everyone in the restaurant is looking at the three of you. A glance at Binwoo told you of how close you are to freedom. The man has hunched his shoulders, shrinking into himself, trying to disappear from the public gaze while his eyes busied itself by tracing the details on the tiles. He has long stopped from eating now as he hangs his head in embarrassment, ashamed to be associated with you.

"Hey, I'm sorry man. I didn't know you were like that, in your profile it said that you were experienced in hammering."

"I do woodworking, of course I'm amazing at it!"

You hear a dull thud erupt from two tables over. At the edge of your eyes you see Jimin hitting the table with a closed fist, his giggles a little louder; enough to gather a few confused eyes but quiet enough to limit the range to the patrons next to him.

"I-I'm so sorry."

Binwoo flushes before darting out, towing his black suitcase that looked suspiciously light, away from the eyes of everyone in the restaurant and relief floods your body, muscles relaxing as you watch his form disappear behind the partition between the tables and the exit.

You stare up at Taehyung to find him already looking back at you with crinkled eyes past the dim shades he was wearing, his cheekbones poking above the mask as he smiled.

With your date finally out of the shot, Jimin's laughter explodes into loud cackles of a mad man as he stands, stumbling before he manages to approach you both. When he was close enough, he latched onto Tae's arm to stabilize himself as he held up his phone with the camera app open. Immediately, everyone's displeasure echoed in the room at the implication that the intense scene they just witnessed was a part of a vlog.

Despite how much of a spur of a moment their plan seemed, the duo has managed to construct a simple start and conclusion to their plan and you couldn't be more proud of your smart boys.

Taehyung turned to the mass and bowed.

"I'm sorry for disrupting everyone's afternoon, I was just saving my sister from a bad date and decided to make a vlog out of it. We're really sorry." Taehyung exclaimed.

The disturbed patrons' voices grew louder and angrier, a few attempting to approach your little group to possibly get physical.

Next thing you know, Tae's grabbing the paper gift bag your date has given you earlier before reaching to your and Jimin's hand and pulling you both out of the restaurant at full speed with a wide grin, leaving behind indignant screams of 'YA!' . You couldn't stop the laughter from bubbling out of your chest as you three raced down to the stairs, taking the safer and the long way down. You'd regret the decision later once your age kicks in and the ache on your knees comes but the thrill thrumming under your skin keeps you occupied.

They'd probably ban you from ever entering the establishment but for now, you could care less, the place felt too pretentious for you anyways.

The laughter didn't stop even when you entered Taehyung's car, your joined delight bouncing off the small space and when it ceased, a satisfied silence followed. You and Jimin sag to your seats as the giggles die down, arms clutching your stomachs while Taehyung hunches over the wheel.

Even with how ridiculous the youngest decides on how to go about destroying a date, you couldn't deny the overflowing gratitude you hold for the guy for selling his dignity. Although as an idol with an interesting internet background, you doubt he still has one.

"Wow, that went better than I expected."

"I'm never taking you both to my dates again."

Jimin rolled his eyes at you, lips tugged into a grin. "You say that and take us anyways."

"I'm so glad Tae didn't pull another jealous CEO persona, I was so embarrassed that day!"

"Hey! I still got you out so it's not that bad!" Tae protests, turning to the both of you on the backseat. "At least I didn't act like an embarrassing ex that cried and begged on his knees by the outlook!"

Jimin's swat was quick and Tae hissed and gasped dramatically, cradling his arm as if it was broken by the slap.

"Now he's trying to hit me!"

"Nonetheless, we did so well ruining your dates this month, noona. I think we deserve some reward." Jimin's lips tugged up into a sly smile, eyes glimmering with mischief as he suggestively raised his eyebrows.

"You don't have to tell me twice."

Before you returned home, you had Tae stop by the nearest grilling restaurant to treat the two of them to a couple of orders of meat. If Jimin looked like a kicked puppy upon realizing you've misinterpreted his words, you didn't say anything.

In your defense, he didn't specify what he wanted. Even if he did, you wouldn't have entertained his flirty jokes.

Not a minute longer since the three of you had seated yourselves at a secluded corner at the far back of the restaurant did Jimin's phone ring. You didn't have to look at the screen to know it was Jungkook, ever so eager to hear about how his hyungs managed to scare off your date this time.

He treats it like he was watching those public prank videos on the internet but instead of random targets, it was your dates.

When the video call loads in, you are met with the sight of Jungkook and Jin sharing half the screen while the stylists hands tend to their hairs, stuck deciding between leaving a strand astray from their elevated fringes or keeping it neat.

"Hyung, did you manage to do what you were telling me last time?"

Taehyung grinned. "You should've seen how they all reacted!"

As Taehyung recalled the event with exaggerated movements and expressions—with Jimin adding his extraordinarily unique perspective every now and then—the plates full of meat to grill and bowls of rice you ordered came. Immediately, they were recognized by the waitress who bowed her head at them before shyly asking for an autograph. If you felt her eyes burning a hole through your skull throughout the encounter, you pretend not to notice.

You've introduced yourself as their make-up artist early on in their career, sneaking into their hearts with behind-the-scenes photographs of their idols. A few photographs in exchange of their respect which the boys and the company allowed. Even then, you wouldn't be able to avoid exchanges like these.

Once the waitress was gone, the boys continued to delight the others with their tales. They laughed and expressed their disgust, picking apart your date piece by piece down to his last molecule but as they continued noting down their observations, you started to feel that they're making up random facts out of spite.

Like, what do you mean you saw the guy kept wiggling in his seat to subtly scratch his ass? How did you even see that, Jimin?

But due to them sneaking out to be your guard dogs, they were called to return soon by an unimpressed Namjoon who took over the phone call at some point, threatening them with Hoseok who just laughed in response. You didn't miss the opportunity to rub your week-long rest in their faces with a smile when Taehyung and Jimin tried pouting their way out of punishment.

They ended up being given the chance to at least finish their food before they're given the countdown when Jimin bribed them with takeout.

"Come with us to drink that memory away instead, noona! Hyung and I are better drinking buddies anyways."

You waved Hoseok off. "I don't think Sejin would appreciate me distracting you guys more than I already do."

"Look into my eyes and say that you don't want to drink the memory away!" Yoongi said matter-of-factly from somewhere in the background.

"We won't even drink much, promise!"

"Stop lying to yourself, Hoba. We know you'd tap out after the third glass."  Jin snickered.

"Hey, I've changed! I can do four now."

Before you could further shoot his idea down, your phone flashes open with a ring displaying your mother's name and your heart drops. As if sensing the change in the air, their heads perked up to look at you.

You knew she'll contact you eventually but seeing her name on the screen glare back at you, a shiver wracks down your spine.

"Who is it?" 

"It's my mom."

Jimin and Taehyung gasped, shushing the people on the other line like kids trying to hide a stray pet from their parents who came home as you answered the call.

"Hello my dearest daughter, tell me why the hell did Binwoo's mother just call me to tell me that you've been going around stealing people's youths?! I don't remember raising you to be such a person!"

Despite not having the call on speaker, her rage is loud enough for the other two to hear. Instead of sending pitying looks towards you like a proper friend should, they were grinning and trying to stop themselves from cackling. Your mother's screeching evolved into rapid fire scolding with barely any breathing in between, sending your companions into silent laughter.

You could only glare as Taehyung threw his head back as he guffawed noiselessly while Jimin had hunched over the table, his shaking shoulders being the only indicator that he too was laughing.

Kicking them both under the table, you gathered the courage to interrupt your mother so she could breathe.

"Mom, it was just a friend who wanted to save me from Binwoo."

"A friend?!? A friend my foot! He must be an-uh what do you call it these days—a friend with benefits! Here I thought you've been busy fussing over those Bangtan boys to fool around!"

At this, their ears perked up, attention falling to yours.

"God! If you just started dating them then I wouldn't have to stress myself over finding you a husband!"

Taehyung sobers up, playing with the meat on the grill as he whispers. "Oh I wish auntie but noona is too professi—ow!"

Your foot swiftly connects with his shin and Taehyung hunches over the table, hand disappearing down to cradle his foot.

"I assure you, Mom, if you've seen how he acted, you'd thank your daughter for dodging such a disgusting guy. He didn't even ask me permission to eat my fries!"

"Aishhhhh! If you were here I would've hung you upside down in a sack outside our house! God, I'm gonna have a cardiac arrest because of you!"

"The guy is really my friend, mom! It's the same guy who interrupted my dates before. Remember the crazy CEO?"

"I know I know! But with how picky you are, you'll end up alone! I know you're trying to wait for your soulmate but you're 26 now! You're way past the maximum marking age!"

Taehyung and Jimin fall silent as an awkward silence settles between your group, continuing to place their pork into the leaves and engulfing them almost meekly; almost because the way they ate the wrap is far from graceful.

You've known that for a year now, accepted your fate but the reminder made your heart ache. Imagine how it was for a hopeless romantic, who dreamt of fated meetings and whimsical red strings on your pinkie, to find out that they're untethered. Even then, a small part of you, a much younger version, keeps hoping for a chance that you're just a late bloomer.

Who wouldn't want true love for themselves?

Even a solitary man would crave affection.

"I-I know that. But you can't expect me to settle for less, you wouldn't want to see your dear daughter in a miserable marriage do you?"

There's a deep sigh from the other line and you could imagine your mom pinch the bridge of her nose before she spoke:

"I'm just worried, I hope you understand. I'm not getting any younger. Your older brother and sister already have their own family and seeing them happy while you're still on your own, it hurts this old woman's heart, you know?"

There's a quick succession of dull thuds from across the line and you assumed your mother was hitting her chest with her fist, ever the dramatic.

Jimin flips the newly added meat on the grill, taking the cooked strips to distribute between yours and Taehyung's bowl. It was such a small gesture yet it made your stomach flutter for a second. Always the caring and golden hearted boy you've met years ago that never hesitated to give you hugs and make you smile either with exaggerated movements or from touch alone.

If only there's more Jimin in the world, you would've been married a long time ago and you wouldn't have to deal with your mother's horrible matchmaking.

You sighed. "I know, I'm trying my best so don't worry too much."

"That's my youngest. Now, since you're trying, I have another—"

You pinched the bridge of your nose. "Mom, please."

"I swear this guy is better. He's a lawyer, 30 years old, and he's got a penthouse!"

There's a shrill ding! from your phone and you turned to look at your screen to find yourself staring back at a picture of the suitor your mother was just talking about. In a blink, Jimin and Taehyung have teleported  behind you with side dishes in hand as they peered over your shoulder to look at the photo.

The picture was roughly cropped and showed a man in a tailored black suit leaning against what looks like his mother from how similar the shape of their eyes and lips are. He had his coat hanging from his arm, giving you a full view of how his chest and shoulders filled out his white button up. With a narrow and refined jawline, topped off with good hair waxed into a small quiff and a pair of sunken dimples on each side of his bowstring lips, as an idol's makeup artist, you wondered how it is possible for him to be single.

But what distracted you more was how your mother has sent you someone visually appealing instead of the challenged men she had recommended to you. It's making the ends of the hair on your arm stand up.

It's new and it's creeping you out.

You make a mental note to ask your father about her strange behavior.

"His name is Yoo Guwon, isn't he good looking? His mother and I met at the salon by the market in front of your aunt Jia. I saw him once and he looks exactly like he does in that picture!"

"He looks good."

A hiss following a slap muted by thick clothing erupted from behind you, looking over your shoulder, you see Taehyung staring at Jimin with a shocked and betrayed expression.

"What are you doing?! You're supposed to be against this!"

"Well now that you've mentioned it," Jimin hums, crossing his arms as he leaned closer over your shoulders. "He does look like a manipulator. He has the eye and facial structure for it."

You turned to him with a puzzled expression. "What do you even mean—"

"No no no wait, I can see what you mean." Taehyung butts in, narrowing his eyes as he also inched closer to the screen on the other side of your face before reaching over to expand on the man's face.

You furrowed your eyebrows, still not seeing how a skull's formation could mean manipulator in their eyes. But before you could ask how they came to the conclusion, your mother gasped.

"Is that one of your boys? Taehyung and Jimin?"  

"Yeah, I took them out for some meat since they saved me earlier."

"Oh? Put me on speaker, I want to talk to them!" You obeyed her and hummed a confirmation before holding your phone towards them. "I hope my daughter hasn't disrupted your busy schedules to play jealous exes for her."

Jimin laughs. "It's nothing too much, auntie~ She took great care of us back then, it's just us repaying the debt! Besides, I like watching her fail her dates!"

"Oh aren't you quite mischievous?" Her tone was teasing and delighted as she giggled. "Don't enjoy it too much, okay? My daughter needs to get married soon!"

"Don't worry too much, auntie! I also want our noona to find a good husband!"

"What a sweet boy! Too bad company rules can't let you date, I would've loved you as my son-in-law."

A smile stretched across Jimin's face as he shyly laughed, hiding his delight behind a hand. "You can't say that and expect me to not try and court your daughter, auntie!"

"What about me, auntie? I sold my dignity just to push away her creepy suitors when hyung only sat back to record. I did a lot!" Taehyung jumps in with a pout, feeling left out of the conversation.

"Any of you boys are welcome in my family as long as my daughter is married and treated well! Ok, I'll stop now since I have some friends to meet up with. Visit me soon, my lovely daughter!"

After saying your goodbyes and your i-love-you's, the call ends. Immediately, your phone was fished out from your hands by Taehyung as the two boys returned to their seats, zooming in on Guwon's face and speaking in hushed whispers among themselves. At least until Jin and Jungkook's insistence to be included in the discussion came booming.

"Ya Taehyung! Aren't we friends for so long? Why are you not showing us the picture like a normal friend would do? Forward it to the GC!"

Even after forwarding the picture to the GC, they're still far from pleased after being ignored for so long. Jungkook and Jin didn't spare any words from expressing their wrath, especially the elder. A problem easily buried for everyone to forget with an offer of bringing food when they come home. Your mother expressing her openness to the idea of having any of your bosses as your husband seems to breeze past their heads. You do have an inkling they'll discuss amongst themselves later on.

Soon, Jimin and Taehyung are dropping you at your apartment building, parting ways with hugs before they leave.

Since you've finally claimed some of the absent days you've gathered throughout the years for a nice week off before the eventual tour, you decided to take full advantage of it by treating yourself with a nice night in, stuffing yourself with ice cream and an unhealthy amount of pizzas. Doors locked and blinds shut.

Just you and your TV.

And the generic drama that's playing before you.

It's about a poor girl who got rescued by a handsome rich man who has an obsessed admirer and a family who opposes their relationship despite the soulmate mark they both wore due to their different levels in society.

The trope has been overused but you indulge in it anyways.

But as the night gets deeper and the plot thickens to its climax, you find yourself slowly liking it. Watching the young couple be domestic around their apartment, your heart starts to yearn. Their kisses looked fantastical and sweet, as if the taste of each other could energize them for the whole month. 

You watched as brief passing touches scream louder than words, eyed the way their arms wrapped around waists with jealousy and wondered when you'd be able to experience such a thing too.

Emotional torture is what you're doing but you couldn't find it in yourself to stop watching it.

You remembered how realization felt like plunging into the darkest depths in the ocean, cold and harsh, the pain in your chest when your 21st passed by without any notable changes in your life. 

You recalled how you'd wake up and excitedly look over your skin for a hint everyday with no fail, hoping for a telltale sign that you weren't assigned to a fate of love bare of the genuine and rawness of a soulbond. The devastation gnawing at your dreams when your 21st ends uneventfully and the 22nd comes with the same nothingness still fresh in your mind.

There wasn't a cure for being untethered but you learned soon how to accept your fate. Having your friends comfort you through those years helped. From the maknaes' grounding tight hugs to Yoongi's silent support in the form of distractions and Seokjin's insistence on how unimportant soulmates are, healing came easier with them by your side.

Being untethered or alone isn't a disease cured by human medicine but you think your friends' support came close.

Your phone then vibrates, taking you out of the train of thought you got yourself into, screen lighting up to a message from an unknown user.

[21:39] Unknown: Hey, it's me Yoo Guwon. Your mother gave me your number and said to contact you first because you might be busy with work.

None of the suitors your mother has brought forth has ever worked out. At this point, you should ask her to stop and try to find a good man yourself.

But none of them ever made the effort to reach out first.

But he's a lawyer and you know damn well what they're good at .

He looks cute and tall though, got a good background as well.

Everyone before him also had that.

With a heavy exhale, you picked your phone up and opened his message.

[21:40] You: Hello, I'm actually on a week-long break so I'm just rotting on my couch instead haha

"That's too awkward." You muttered to yourself, subconsciously biting your lips as you rephrased the message a couple more times, frantically deleting and adding words onto your ever growing introduction message.

But then it's too wordy, it makes you sound desperate so you deleted it all again, starting once more from the beginning.

You didn't even get to send it when Guwon sent another message.

[21:48] Yoo Guwon: I'm free tomorrow, I hope you are too. What do you usually like to do?

He's giving me options? You stared at the screen with furrowed eyebrows before narrowing at it suspiciously.

What's up with this guy? Why isn't he taking the lead?

[21:50] You: I'm more often working and staying at home than visiting places so I don't know where ;-;. I'll go wherever you want to go. [21:51] Yoo Guwon: It's fine, just send me your address and I'll pick you up tomorrow at 9am, dress formal casual.

Throwing your phone to the side, you reached for the canned beer from your table and took a long sip before titling your head back to stare at the ceiling. There's a careful rise in your heartbeat, a traitorous action of your body. It was hopeful and you hated how you felt like that, you sighed again for the nth time that day but for a different reason.

Your mind takes you back to the mischievous duo, wondering if you should take one of them for this date but find yourself shutting the idea down as quick as it came. The guy looks decent enough for a solo adventure, going alone shouldn't hurt.

Maybe this time will be different.

[eccentricwritingbaby]

meet-cute

part one part two! part three

lando norris x fem!reader

summary - y/n is giving lando a run for his money in playing hard to get, and lando knows he's in love so so soon. 

masterlist

author's note! should i make another part or possibly make this into a series? lmk what ya think!

-

you woke up to a distant ringing running throughout the room. slowly rubbing your eyes and giving a bit of a stretch, you roll over in an attempt to find your phone. once found, you grimace at the time yet your smirk grows when seeing the contact read ‘mr mclaren’. 

“yes?” you answer the phone while letting out a cough to remove the sleep from your throat.

“did you just wake, love?” lando replies. you can practically see his teasing smile through the phone as he questions you. you rearrange your body so that you’re leaning against the headboard of the bed while biting into your answer, “mclaren, it’s currently 8am on a sunday, no person alive should be awake right now,”

you hear lando’s contagious chuckle from the other line along with a bit of shuffling around on his end, “i wanted to know if you were busy tonight,” he gently asks. you could tell he was a bit nervous from the small quiver in his voice. it had been around two weeks since your first meeting at the coffee shop, since then there were texts and calls constantly, but never an in person meeting since. you didn’t want to just be used by lando, expecting him to be a prick due to his celebrity status. there were certain insecurities that would become undone with seeing him in person that you were yearning to keep at bay for the time being. lando, on the other hand, only grew more attached to you. ever since he even saw you in the coffee shop he was beyond forward which he had never done before. sure there were girls in clubs that he could easily chat up, but he would never be so bold. and so sober. he knew from that moment - you were something special. something he needed. he enjoyed that you didn’t care about his celebrity status and were making him work, it gave him the reassurance that you liked him, not his wallet size. 

“i have dinner tonight for a friend's birthday,” you sigh, “maybe a quick lunch before?” you add on in haste for lando’s peace of mind. you honestly were not trying to avoid him, but his schedule was hectic with travel and you had many friends with whom you’ve made previous plans. 

“i’ve got plans during lunchtime,” lando says, you could practically hear the irritation in his voice, therefore leading to your next line, “i’m really not trying to avoid you, lando. I’ve just got a loaded schedule,” your words are gently said, attempting to ease his brain. 

“I know, love. I just really want to see you,” 

and then your next words came out of your mouth so quick you couldn’t even think, “come over,”

“what? i-i mean, are you sure?” his excitement was not hidden, yet the hesitation was purely based on his knowledge that you had just woken up, and only ever been with each other in person once. and that was your first time meeting. and nothing overly romantic happened. and now he’s invited straight to your place. 

“well, shit, if you don’t want to come thats fine ill just head back to sleep-”

“no no no no,” he interrupts sporadically, “i’ll be there soon, send me your address please,”

“hmm, i don’t know. you’re lack of excitement really turned me off from the whole idea i think i’ll keep my address to myself,”  you giggle a bit into your teasing. lando wants to be annoyed - he truly does. and if this was any other girl he just may have been. he most likely would have given up this chase the minute any other girl turned his request down in the first place. yet - there was something about you. you were different. and you were so worth it. 

lando clears his throat and begins to speak in a dramatic tone while giving your teasing right back, “that’s alright, y/n. i will drive all day and night if i have to, knock on every door. trust, my love, i shall find you,” your loud laughter rings through the phone and he swears his heart skips a beat. 

“ah mr. norris, your lovely sense of humor and perseverance have allowed you access to my apartment,” you smile once more and rattle off your address. once the call has ended, you jump out of bed and begin to get ready as lando said the ride would only be about 10 minutes. face washed, teeth brushed, perfume and lotion on, quick change of clothes from your ratty old pajamas to cuter loungewear, hair tied up to look as though you didn’t even try - all in record time. just as you finished the last spritz of your perfume, the knock on your door echoed through your home. 

sauntering over towards the door and swinging it open, you’re met with the face you hadn’t realized you miss so dearly. “why hello sleepyhead,” he chuckles. you usher him into your home while replying, “y’know you’re the one being irrational here? its currently 830 in the morning, it is crazy to be up right now. on a sunday,” he laughs once more while grabbing your wrists and lightly tossing them around his waist. his own arms then wrap around your shoulders as he plants a kiss to the top of your head. “i’m not being irrational, darling. but if you want to head back to sleep i would not be opposed to a nap,” you look up at him from where your face was resting against his chest, “please,” lando plants a kiss to your nose, “lead the way,” 

lando wakes up around an hour later, tucked into your bed with your head adorably pushed into his neck. he soaks in your appearance, one leg thrown over his hip, head cuddled into him, arm thrown over his chest and he relishes in it. the two of you hadn’t even kissed, hadn’t gone on a proper date, for the past two weeks only had fleeting phone calls and yet - this was normal. this was home. you were home. he thought as he laid with you curled into his side, he thought about a future, about a new beginning, about how adorable you would look in a certain papaya color, and god how his mother would just love you. lando couldn’t help the thoughts. he didn’t even know if you had siblings or anything remotely deep about you however he knew for sure three things. one - he was and forever will be completely, head over heels, insanely in love with you. two - his future has you and you only in it. and three - you both were so unconventional in your ways and in your soon to be love story that he knew his life would never be boring as long as you were in it.

[misshoneyimhome]

250 FOLLOWERS FESTIVAL

“I like waking up with you” I Nico Hischier

Summary; While Nico Hischier may struggle with expressing his emotions, leading to occasional frustrations and arguments, a strong relationship can withstand any challenge.

Tropes & warnings; no warnings; strangers to lovers, couples fight; very mild-smut descriptions;

Other notes; so as I finished, I sort of realised that it doesn’t really have much plot - it’s just pure fluff; still hope it’s readable 😅 inspired by the lyrics from ‘PILLOWTALK’ by Zayn Malik 🤍

Word count; 1.7K

➼｡ﾟ

You and Nico fell in love quicker than you ever imagined possible. In a way, it felt as if fate had brought you together on purpose, weaving your lives into a beautiful tapestry of love and passion. It was as simple as the fairy tales you grew up with; from the moment you met him on that crisp autumn evening, you knew your life would change forever. It was love at first sight.

Your love story began at something as simple as a charity event for the New Jersey Devils, right at the start of the hockey season. It was a night filled with glamour and excitement, the room adorned in the team's red, white, and black colours.

You were there as a friend of one of the team’s partners, however, as the event had unfolded, you suddenly found yourself standing alone, without the companion you’d arrived with.

Yet, in a mere moment, lost in thoughts as you gazed into thin air, among the buzzing crowd, your eyes suddenly met Nico Hischier's. His big, brown golden eyes captivated you instantly, sparking a connection you simply couldn't deny.

And to your surprise, Nico confidently made his way through the crowd in your direction, never breaking eye contact. And when he stood before you, his smile was nothing but magnetic.

"Hello," he said, his voice smooth with a hint of a sweet yet rough accent. "I couldn't help but notice you from across the room. Would you mind if I joined you?"

Though his boldness took you aback, there was just something about him that had you drawn in. And before you knew it, you were engrossed in deep conversation, completely oblivious to the world around you.

"I must admit," Nico said with a playful glint in his eyes, "I didn't expect to meet someone as captivating as you at this event."

His words warmed you, causing a blush to rise to your cheeks. "I could say the same about you," you replied with a soft smirk, completely unable to look away from him.

And as the night then progressed, you felt an unexpected strong and deep connection to the Swiss captain, as if you'd known each other for ages. So as the evening slowly drew to a close, you couldn't shake the feeling that this might just be the beginning of something extraordinary.

**

To say the least, you were absolutely right. As the weeks passed and turned into months, your connection with Nico only grew stronger. And before long, despite your initial hesitation, you moved from being just good friends to something definite more.

It was no secret between you, that you’d had concerns, influenced by the idea of dating a professional hockey player with a demanding lifestyle and packed schedule. However, Nico dispelled those worries with his steadfast commitment to you. He didn't just start calling you his girlfriend sooner than expected; he proudly introduced you to everyone as his partner anywhere you went, demonstrating his dedication through every word and deed. In a way, it was quite remarkable how, despite the demands of his career, he always found time for you, placing your relationship above all else.

Because Nico's life as a hockey player did indeed involve frequent travel, rigorous training sessions, and the pressure of performing on the ice. There were nights when he returned home exhausted, his body aching from a challenging game. Yet, even in those moments, he never failed to show you love and appreciation. Whether through a heartfelt text before bed or a lengthy phone call while on the road, he made sure you felt valued and cared for.

And especially one aspect of your relationship that remained constant was the physical connection you shared. The chemistry between you was electric, igniting flames of desire that grew hotter with each passing moment. Your intimate moments together were nothing short of explosive, leaving you both breathless and exhilarated every time.

Incredible sex became a defining feature already in the very beginning of your relationship, the kind that would make the neighbours blush and the walls tremble. But you never paid any attention to the noise complaints or the curious glances from passers-by. In those moments of passion, it was just you and Nico, lost in each other's embrace, consumed by the intensity of your love.

During those intimate moments, you felt the deepest connection with Nico, as the barriers between you dissolved and you revealed your souls to each other in the most vulnerable and intimate way possible. Every time you lay intertwined in the aftermath, your bodies still tingling with pleasure, you were certain that you were in love.

However, naturally, challenges arose along the way. No relationship is without its flaws, including yours. Arguments erupted over missed dates or suddenly cancelled plans, tensions escalating like an impending storm. Yet, as always, Nico had a knack for smoothing over rough patches, turning conflict into connection. With just a smile or a tender gesture, he could transform the atmosphere between you from a war zone into a paradise.

It was a turbulent relationship, to say the least. Nico's ability to express his absolute joy and deep love for you was unmatched, his affection evident in every touch and whispered word. But beneath that outward display of affection lay a layer of resilience and reticence when it came to his concerns and fears.

And it didn't take you long to notice that he tended to bottle up his negative emotions, keeping his worries hidden deep inside. Nico was skilled at putting on a brave face, particularly as the team captain, even when the weight of the world seemed to be bearing down on him. And while you admired his strength and resilience, it also led to frustration and tension between you.

There were times when you wished he would open up, and share his fears and insecurities with you. However, whenever you broached the subject, he would shut down, enveloping himself in silence. In those moments, the distance between you almost felt insurmountable, like an unbridgeable chasm. But, no matter how bad your arguments could be, Nico never let you go to bed angry or sad.

One evening, after a rather heated argument, you sat on the edge of his bed, tension thick between you.

"I'm sorry, y/n," Nico said softly, his voice tinged with regret. "I didn't mean to shut you out like that. Sometimes I just feel the need to be strong for everyone else, and I forget that it's alright to lean on you too."

His words resonated deeply within you, highlighting the complexities of his role both on and off the ice. You reached out, taking his hand and gently squeezing it as you met his gaze.

"You don't have to be strong all the time, Nico," you reassured him, your voice gentle yet firm. "I'm here for you, through thick and thin. We're a team, remember?"

And a faint smile slowly grew and played on Nico's lips as he nodded, gratitude shining in his eyes. "I know," he murmured, his voice heavy with emotion. "And I'm thankful for you every day, y/n. I don't know where I'd be without you."

Navigating the highs and lows of your relationship required a delicate balance. Yet, through it all, your love for each other remained unwavering, and you were determined to face the challenges together, hand in hand.

In fact, maintaining this steadfastness was surprisingly simple; Nico never allowed you to even consider the idea of walking away. And truth be told, you had no desire to. Despite the ups and downs, everything between you felt pure, raw, and intensely passionate.

**

The past year had been nothing but a whirlwind for both of you, with highs of victories and lows of defeats. Throughout it all, you had been each other's support, standing strong through thick and thin. And with the off-season offering a brief break from the hockey season's demands, you cherished every moment spent together, aware that Nico would soon be back on the ice, fully engrossed in the game.

Then as the autumn leaves then began to change, marking the start of a new season, Nico's excitement was beyond palpable. He simply couldn't contain his joy at the prospect of another year filled with his beloved sport and the woman who had captivated his heart.

And as you lay together in the gentle morning light, Nico's words enveloped you like a warm embrace, filling you with love and affection. His vulnerability caught you off guard, as his declaration of love lifted your spirits.

"I like waking up with you," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion, echoing the sentiment you had shared countless times before.

Your heart fluttered at his words, warmth flooding through you at the depth of his affection. You gently reached out, brushing your fingers against his stubbled jaw as you spoke softly, a smile gracing your lips.

“I like waking up with you too…” you murmured, your voice filled with tenderness.

But it was evident there was more on his mind. "I can’t believe I have you in my life... I love you, y/n…" Nico's voice quivered with emotion, his gaze locked on yours as if seeking reassurance.

And you couldn’t deny the way your heart swelled with love for him, mirrored in the depths of his gaze. "Nico," you whispered, reaching out to stroke his hair, "I love you too, more than words can express."

The moment hung heavy with emotion and possibility. Then, with a surge of determination, Nico voiced the question he'd been pondering for a while.

"Move in with me, y/n," he implored, hope and longing evident in his eyes. "Please. I want us to wake up together every day, fall asleep in each other's arms. Will you move in with me?"

And you couldn’t help but let a tear slowly well in your eye at the sincerity of his request, overwhelmed with love for the man before you. So without hesitation, you simply enveloped him in your arms, whispering your answer in his ear.

"Yes, Nico," you choked out, your voice thick with emotion, "Of course I'll move in with you.”

As you held each other in the gentle dawn light, surrounded by the promise of a new beginning, you knew this was just the beginning of a beautiful chapter in your love story. With Nico by your side, you felt ready to face whatever the future held, confident that together, you could overcome anything.

[mintmatcha]

Inevitable Things : chapter one

aizawa x reader fic

cw: aizawa x reader, cisfem reader, office AU, no quirks. no porn in the first two chapters, sorry gang :)

masterlist | next chapter

Prome Medical Devices hired you as a personal assistant to the CEO, Toshinori Yagi, shortly after he was diagnosed with his second bout of prostate cancer and shortly before they learned it had metastasized to bone. It was a tragic, yet expected turn of events.The man had been sick most of his life, they told you, he's probably slept in hospital beds more times than he's slept in his own. It was, like most things, inevitable.

Over the following weeks, through chemo and taps and rotating hospital doors, he began working from home and handling only the absolute basics, and your silly assistant job evolved into more. You had only planned to stay for a couple months, but then another horrible thing happened.

You became Somehow Important. 

Days went from scrolling on Twitter between writing notes to juggling everything that no one else could handle. Sitting in for meetings, handling calls, scheduling reviews and system checks, running to the pharmacy midday: there's nothing you haven't done. It’s a lot, but in the grand scheme of it all, it's nothing-- especially compared to the things that everyone else gets done here. 

8:35am. The security man gives you a nod without checking for your badge. Engineers skitter around the office like cockroaches. It's always a good sign when no one immediately comes to find you; that means your boss is still alive and doing about the same as he was yesterday. No updates, you’ve found, are good. No one bothers to tell you when good things happen: you’re the fixer, the emergency contact. When you’re being informed of anything, it’s because someone else wants you to clean up the mess.

(The only exception is from the man himself. Toshinori sends you the best kind of updates; mundane things from his life that he needs to share, like pictures of his duck pond or his review of the new coffee shop in town. It’s enough to keep you going, even when the day absolutely blows. You only had a few months working directly with the man, but he was fond of you-- and everyone was fond of him.)

Outdated filaments thrum down the halls. Your heels click against the tile with every step, a slow march to another day of monotony, a kind of dread that not even your phone can distract you from. Because your position is rather undefined for the corporate world, your desk is in an awkward spot, sandwiched in the hall, equidistant from the engineering department, the CEO's office, and the coffee machine. In terms of convenience, it's lovely, but it also means you have nowhere to hide.

Before you can even make it to your desk, a young man pops into the way and heads straight for you, a bit too quickly to be passed off as casual. Your heart sinks, then you realize it's just one of the interns: a college kid who's clearly had too many energy drinks already.

“Hey,” Denki smiles with too much gum, so wide his cheeks almost swallow up his eyes. He’s a scruffy, dirty blonde, a patchy black streak on one side of his head. His button down is obviously unironed, so crumpled it almost looks like a pattern, matching perfectly with his untied tie. It’s a good thing that he’s cute; you doubt he’d have gotten this far in life if he wasn’t. 

“Good morning, how are you? Have a good night? You look so pretty this morning. MILF town over here.” he says, twiddling the toe of his shoe into the carpet. “I made the pot of coffee for you,so you don’t have to worry about that-”

You cut him off. “What did you do?” 

The interns don’t report to you. If anything, they run parallel to you. If there’s anyone they should be ass kissing, it should be the department head, not some personal assistant, but the group considers you an ally. Maybe even a friend.

“I wouldn’t say that it’s something that I did,” the boy explains. He sucks air in through his teeth. “It’s more like what I didn’t do.”

“Denki.”

“It’s just the reports! I have to submit them end of day and it’s just not--” He juts out his bottom lip. “Can you proof my work? Please? The Eraser’s going to have my head if I make another mistake.”

The lead engineer is infamous for deleting whole chunks of code that the interns have made and ruining months of their work. Last month it was Ochako's work, who then spent the rest of the day at your desk, sniffling. The four others  were equally terrified of the man, constantly fretting and bitching about the ‘cruel working conditions.’ If Prome wasn't so prestigious (and internships weren't necessary for graduating) there’d be no interns left. You’re sure Eraser would prefer it that way.

“Please?” Denki clutches his hands together in prayer. “Please, please, please?”

 You don't even pretend to hem and haw.

“Email it over before lunch.” you say and he lights up. 

“Aw, you’re the best!” He turns away and practically skips down the hall. “I’m gonna drop off Izuku’s stuff too, okay?”

There’s no chance to say no before Denki’s gone. You flop into your chair and kick off your heels, trying to convince yourself that you don’t already regret saying yes. You catch your own appearance in the black screen of your computer. Makeup doesn’t do much to cover up the fact you’ve been crying. You can see it in your eyes, in the creases of your skin that you wish weren't there.  Even as the screen lights up, you can still catch your own face, starting back with that sad, sad expression. 

It's been mostly sleepless nights since Touya left, but you push through and ignore whatever you can. You miss your travel mug, the one that matched the coaster on your desk. You miss your forks, the ones that weren’t the awful ones from the thrift store down the road, bought solely out of panic when you returned to an empty apartment.  Most of all, you miss him, how the apartment felt warmer with two bodies instead of one, and how secure you felt with someone who loves you.

Your screen loads and a big, red 24 flashes in the corner-- fuck, the works already piling up. You try to squish any thought of Touya’s disappearing act into the back of your head. Like a dog, Touya always comes back home to you. He just needs to be wild for a bit, play off leash, and then he’ll crawl back like always. 

You check your phone. He’s still saved under “AVOID AT ALL COSTS” and the last five texts you sent are all unread. Your thumb hovers over the delete button for a moment; it’d be easier to cut him off and end this cycle. You can stop pushing the boulder up the hill,  just for it to tumble back down again. You could pursue someone else, maybe someone nice or smart or at least not rude-

 Focus. Compliance is raising concerns about the new platform and manufacturing has CC'ed you into an issue about screw heads, two things that you know nothing about. You flip your phone over and push through. What’s the difference between a hex and a truss and why should you care?

..

11:59. You’re none the wiser about either topic, but the dust seems to be settling and everyone seems to be happy enough. Denki’s reports are an absolute mess, bad to the point you start to wonder if he even tried. The pages aren't even formatted correctly, so it’s going to take most of your lunch to iron out the wrinkles. Luckily, Izuku is a bit more competent and his tasks look great, so-

“Oh, baby girl!”

You stop typing and sit straight up to peer over your computer screen, hiding the remnants of your microwaved lunch. With arms raised high and dressed in his finest ironed button down, Yamada Hizashi enters. Tall, blonde, thin, and leggy: Hizashi would have been a Victoria’s Secret model if he wasn’t a man. His long hair is tied back into a messy bun, a couple of loose tendrils floating  around his face in an effortlessly, annoyingly charming way as he marshes straight for you. 

“Let me see ‘em!” he demands loudly, a smile on his face and his hands on his hips. “Come on, baby. You know what I want.”

If it was anyone else, you’d think the man was a creep, but Hizashi is just so earnest about the way he lights up a room. With a belabored sigh and a grin, you roll your chair back a bit and stick your leg to the side to reveal your pink, fluffy slippers. The man claps his hands together and laughs a deep, hearty chuckle, genuinely bemused. 

The bunny slippers had started as a secret. The original dress code had required women to wear heels to work, which was fine, until the back of your feet became nothing but blisters. To give yourself some respite during the day, you had hidden a pair of slippers under your desk, just a little treat to make it through the day. It seemed like a genius idea-

Until the day the fire alarm went off. In the surprise, you had forgotten to change your shoes back, and proceeded to spend the next half an hour outside with the entire company in your violently pink shoes.

Luckily, everyone thought it was pretty funny.

Especially Hizashi.

“Seeing my work wife is the best part of the week.”

You throw a hand over your heart and gasp, trying to hold back your smile. “Only your work wife?”

“Oh, babygirl, I’d marry you in an instant.” He leans over your desk with another sigh, this one heavier. “I’d make you the trophy wife you were born to be.”

“Cool it, Mic.” Your heart sinks a bit at the voice.  “HR is going to have your head if you aren’t careful.”

Aizawa “The Eraser” Shouta makes his third appearance at the coffee machine this morning. He’s an average sized man, if not slightly short, with dark hair and the beginnings of a salt and pepper beard. The muscles in his jaw flex whenever he looks your way, almost as if he’s chewing away his annoyance. The most notable thing about him is a scar on his high cheek bone, long healed and silver in the light. He sits his coffee cup - a beat to shit Stanley thermos from long before they were cool- under the tap and lets the java pour, that sour expression never leaving his face.

Aizawa has worked here since the beginning. As one of the founding members of Prome and a lead engineer, he’s had his hands in absolutely every machine the company has produced, and yet he carries himself with none of the pomp and circumstance he deserves. Instead of abiding by the strict dress code, he wears a bright yellow sweatshirt that has an obvious coffee stain on the pocket.  It’d be charming if he wasn’t an infamous dick. The two of you rarely interact, despite the fact he visits the coffee station next to your desk multiple times a day, offering you no more than a nod most days. The interns are terrified of him-- and rightly so. You’re also scared of him. You’ve never met anyone else as tightly wound or as obsessed with work as him; there’s a rumor that he even sleeps here some days.

“Don’t listen to him,” Hizashi says. “He’s just jealous.”

“I’m not jealous, I’m protecting the company from potential litigation when bunny slippers over here-” he juts a chin your way- “ decides your flirting isn’t fun anymore.” 

You knew he wasn’t jealous. It’s an open secret that Aizawa doesn’t like you very much. Unlike any other of the department heads, he never allocates you work or stops by to chat. There was even a rumor that he wanted to eliminate your position last year; you wouldn’t care so much if he didn’t have the power and sway to make that happen. 

Hizashi pops a hip to the side. He isn’t afraid of anyone it seems; he even claims to be the man’s friend after hours.“Would you rather me go back to flirting with you?”

Aizawa stares back, only the trickle of coffee echoing in the hall. Finally, when it almost reaches the top, he shuts it off and glares. “You’re not even supposed to be in office today, Mic.” 

Hizashi had always been the most notable salesman in the company, but once the CEO’s health went downhill, he had taken over a lot of the speaking roles as well. Interviews, speeches, and the like: Toshinori Yagi had dubbed him Mr. Microphone and the name had just stuck. From what you can tell, he’s actually pretty close with Aizawa and the other founding members outside of work as well.

“I have a quick meeting with the marketing gals in a couple minutes,” Hizashi explains. He brings his attention back to you, brows waggling. Fuck- you know what he’s about to say.

 “And I wanted to wish my wife an early happy birthday.”

Oh, god. Your face flushes with heat-- you had hoped he had forgotten that. You glance over to Aizawa, who seems more interested than usual.

“It's tomorrow,” you explain. He nods curtly.

“Our office darling is going to be thirty, flirty and feeling fine!” Mic explains further. Ugh. You wish he didn't sound so happy about it. When you think about it for too long, turning thirty feels like the end of the world, an evil you just can't avoid. It's better than the alternative, you guess. 

“Are you and the boyfriend planning on a romantic night?”

A second gut punch of a statement.

“Oh, no, I’m just-- he--” You almost get emotional for a moment. Thirty years old and single: it feels like the end of the world for some reason. Everyone else is getting married or having kids or living some dream life. Fuck-- even two of the goddammit interns are engaged and they're practically babies! At this point, you might as well give up and die alone; no one else is ever going to want you, are they? 

 The glimpse of Aizawa in the corner, watching you with those judgemental eyes, sobers you up quickly. 

“We broke up, so I’m just staying in.”

The two snap their heads towards each other. Mic waggles his eyebrows, not so subtly gesturing to a non receptive Aizawa. You know that look, the excitement and relief. It’s not a secret that no one really liked Touya-- people have been openly voicing their contempt for years. He wasn’t a bad guy, except for the times he was, but people only ever remembered the bad things. 

“Oh, is it…?” Mic bites back his words, debating how harsh he should be.  “Is it for real this time?”

Touya always comes back. Everyone knows the routine by now. 

“Yeah,” you lie. “I’m done with him.”

“Good.” Aizawa says. You grimace at that; even he knows? You didn’t know he paid attention to anything outside of work, let alone your shitty interpersonal drama.

“More than good. Amazing! Spectacular! I’m so, so, so proud of you!” Mic adds on and you pretend it doesn’t bother you. It’s strange; the more others despise him, the more your heart aches. Touya needs you and you need him; who else will have him?

Who else will have you?

“That means we can go out for drinks to celebrate!”

“Oh, it’s okay, you don’t have to do that.”

“Too late, nope. We’re having a two-for-one birthday single bash tomorrow.” He’s on his phone, typing wildly. “I hope you have something pretty to wear because I’m going to show you how you deserve to be treated.”

Fuck. You’d rather be alone, sniveling and waiting for Touya’s return in your apartment, but Hizashi is smiling. His intentions are good; it’d be cruel to deny him. 

“Nemuri knows some awesome spots-” The man is a whirl, typing and talking and walking. “You better get excited, baby girl.”

“Oh, yay,” you offer weakly. Hizashi isn’t listening anymore; he’s caught up in his own plans, briskly walking down the hall. A breath you didn’t know you were holding sneaks out and you slump back down to your seat.

“You really don’t have to let him walk all over you like that,” Aizawa says. He swirls his cup slowly, watching the rim.  

You try to offer the man a smile, but you can tell it looks forced. Sure, Hizashi can be a lot, but he just wants to help, as misguided as that urge is. 

“It’s okay.” When he doesn’t look convinced, you add. “Really.”  

“Are you sure?”  he presses, voice tight. 

“Mhm.” You return to your keyboard and start typing, hoping that he understands the social cue. “Thanks though.”

Thankfully, he lets it go. Turning down the hall, he starts to sip his coffee, but then freezes mid stride.

“You make this?”

“No.”  

“I can tell,” Aizawa says, examining his cup. “It’s fucking dog water.”

That comment is so off kilter that you can’t help but snort. Aizawa watches you for a beat more, maybe bemused, maybe not, then nods. With that, he leaves, an empty coffee pot in his wake.  Another item to add on your growing list. 

-

The rest of the day goes by quicker than you need it to. Denki leaves a little bit after lunch for a doctor’s appointment and the rest of the workforce trickles out after. The head of development, Nezu, has you run through potential presentations before you follow up on compliance’s worries again. The coffee pot was refilled four more times, all by you, and your messages to Touya still sit delivered and unread. Two hours after the work day was supposed to end, you slip your heels back on. Denki’s files are pretty much unrecognizable now, but that’s a good thing.  All of the college students are intelligent and more accomplished than you’ll ever be, but you’re not sure why they can’t figure out basic busy work. There’s nothing hard about it, other than focusing.

With a final press of a key, your personal printer hums to life. A staple and a paperclip and you’re done: now it’s just a quick trip to engineering and you can finally go home. Your work isn't physical, but God, hunching at a desk all day takes a toll on your body. A flare of something eats at your lower back as you stroll the empty building and try to rub the grit from your eyes. You think there’s a frozen pizza at home or maybe some pasta-- though, you can’t remember if that was from this monday or last monday. Maybe it’d be safer to just throw it away.

The department itself  is a long row of cubicles, with miscellaneous machines and computers littering the other side of the room. You recognize old prototypes and parts of Prome's most famous product: a hospital bed. 

Before you had set foot in this building, you never thought a bed could count as a medical device -- or as something highly complicated and thoroughly engineered -- but this bed is different. It’s comfortable, lightweight, and durable, all while able to track a patient’s movement and comfort. It even records a patient's glucose, body temperature, SPO2, and many other medical things that go over your head. When used correctly, bedsores rates have been reduced to nearly zero and hospital related illnesses are caught significantly earlier.

In about three months, the newest model will be released, complete with full integration into electronic record systems. If everything goes according to plan, it’ll be revolutionary. Working here is a headache, but you do take pride that it's a company that does good. 

“Do you need something?” 

You jump at the sound of the voice, flipping around to search the room. Tucked at the end of it all is an open office door. Inside, Aizawa is perched at his desk, head in one hand, reading glasses in the other.  He’s illuminated only by the computer screen, his deep, dark eyes bouncing side to side as he carefully reads.

 Aizawa always looks tired, but now so especially; his heavy lidded eyes are drooped with fatigue and his skin is pallor, black stubble dusting his unshaved cheeks. There’s no bite or annoyance to his voice-- maybe even a little levity. For once, you don’t want to scurry away from him like a mouse, hiding in the shadows and corners to avoid his claws.  You still approach cautiously, heels sharp against the tile. The silence in between each hit makes your skin prick with an unknown nausea. 

“I thought everyone went home.” You say. 

“Everyone did. Just me-- and you, apparently.” He taps out a word or two. His office is devoid of personal items, desk covered in nothing but stacks of papers and illegible post notes, nothing to hint to his personal life. It’s been three years, yet you have no idea what his personal life is like-- if he even has one, that is.

“No slippers tonight?”

That was either a dig or a joke. You aren’t sure either way, but the way your shoes sound when you walk even closer feels like its own answer. When you reach the corner of his desk, he finally looks your way. It hits you that you've never actually been this close to him before. It's always been passes in the hall and distant conversations. His skin is smoother than you'd thought it'd be, with creases between his brow that fill themselves when he-

“Do you… need something?”

“Oh, uh-- Denki left these at my desk by accident,” you lie, sliding the file on to the corner of his desk. “I think they’re for you.”

He regards you again, more thoroughly this time. With a tilt of his head, he inspects your face, eyes flickering between your two. In the dim, they’re nothing but black dots, an inkinesss that you could fall into if you were any closer. 

He’s pretty.  And that’s an unsettling thought. You’ve never allowed yourself to consider that before. Immediately, you walk the thought back. No. Nobody with his personality is attractive-- hands down. Touya is the only dick you need in your life. 

“You should go home. It's late.” he says before turning back to his work. He types a couple things, then hits the backspace and deletes it all again. “Go home.”

Adjusting the bag on your shoulder, you sigh, the workday catching up to you. “You should too.” 

“Hm,” he grunts. He takes a long sip from his thermos, tipping it back to suck the dregs. You’d never noticed the sticker of the bottom before- a faded and torn image of an orange cat.  “Maybe.”

That’s a no. You don’t push the issue. You start towards the door, then pause. 

“Do… do you want me to make another pot of coffee before I go?” You’re not sure why you offer. Everything’s been put away and cleaned for tomorrow. It’d take at least 15 minutes to set up again. 

Aizawa slides his glasses back on, adjusting them by the bridge, only for them to slip right back down the flat bridge of his nose.

“You don't have to do that.” 

With that you leave, no proper goodnight dismissing you. The tap of your heels and the clack of his keyboard mix into some sort of soft, unbalanced rhythm. Despite yourself, you think of Touya, of where he is and where he isn’t. Is it also quiet there? Has he thought of someone else in the same way you just did?

When the doors of the building close and the security guard nods your way, the sound of percolation echoes behind you, the final drops falling into a freshly brewed pot.

[eightballspins]

SUMMER

pairings : jongseob (p1h) x male reader

warnings : none, but like really pathetic pining and oblivious men not knowing how to act around their crushes (shota is sick and tired of yall)

rating : fluff :D

requested? : yesyesyes!!! thank u 🩵 anon, i don't think you were expecting a full fledged fanfic as a response to your request LMAO so do send in another one if you want a more simple headcanon version of this, i just couldnt help but go a lil crazy LMAO

a/n : strangers to friends to lovers, one of my favorite tropes. jongseob is definitely giving loser pining nerd in this one, but its ok bc hes so cute + this wasn't meant to be this long, but i couldnt help but go a little crazy + i highly suggest listening to the song while reading because it really sets the mood imo (summer by brockhampton)+ i had that ^ seob in mind while writing this btw hes just so heart eyes emoji in that video and i think light brown rlly suits him and gives off the strongest boyfriend vibes

wc : 6.5k+

"in the heat of the summer. yeah, yeah, oh, you know that you should be my boy. oh yes, you know. in the heat of the summer, you're so different from the rest."

jongseob didn’t expect himself to be the type to develop a crush on a first meeting, or more like first glance. but here he was: purposely keeping his head down to not draw too much attention to himself as you walked by him. he was looking down at his phone, swiping in random directions, even looking at the weather app and pretending as if that were interesting. it was really pathetic how shy he became whenever you were near, but that’s just you made him react — so it really wasn’t his fault…

“you’re kim jongseob, right?”

he flinched at your voice, not expecting to hear it call his name out of nowhere. locking his phone, and hoping you didn’t see him stare at the weather for the week, he looked up at you and nodded his head. his mouth went dry and he cleared his throat as an effort to make sure his voice didn’t crack when he spoke to you.

“the teacher told me to find you and let you know i’ll be the one tutoring you for math,” you take the empty seat next to him, pulling out your phone and holding it out to him, “we should exchange contact information so we can talk about when to meet up and what works best for our schedules,”

okay, hold on. everything was moving wayyyy too fast and jongseob still hasn’t blinked once since you started talking to him. it was as if his consciousness left his body. he forced himself to blink and then finally opened his mouth to talk. but you had cut him off, by accident.

“sorry, my name is [name], it’s nice to meet you,”

instinctively, he had bowed his head down and you mimicked the action.

“nice to meet you, i’m jongseob,”

”i know,” a kind smile on your lips almost sent him into a hyperventilating state.

your first meeting with each other ended with him saving your contact in his phone and vice versa, then you departing soon after as you had to go to your own class. that day, shota was wondering why jongseob was so latched onto his phone and staring at it with a blank look on his face.

— in the beginning phases of his crush, jongseob acts really, really reserved and shy. it’s almost as if he doesn’t even want to associate with you with how standoffish he is, but it’s just because he’s eternally scared of embarrassing himself in front of you. in the beginning, he tried brushing off how serious his crush was, thinking it was going to be passing. but when he realized that every night before bed he’d think of you, he knew he was in too deep at that point. it makes him so frustrated that he lets his mind be so filled of you and only you, especially because before you were assigned as his tutor, you’d never even properly spoken to one another. but hopefully now that you two will be forced to talk to one another, jongseob’s skittish and introverted behavior could change a little more…hopefully.

the two of you were sitting in the library, snacks and drinks surrounding you as the two of you were staring at the textbook on the table.

“so, what do you think you struggle with the most?” you kindly asked, pulling out your notebook and pencils from your bag and preparing to start. jongseob blinked at the question, feeling himself blush as he thought of how he struggled with practically everything related to math.

“i think…just everything,” he says honestly, a bashful and embarrassed look on his face. you almost cooed at the cute expression, but stopped yourself.

you didn’t expect jongseob to be so cute. when you had seen him in person the first time, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think he wasn’t at all attractive. he had soft features and a cute smile, which was enough to make you interested in him. but seeing his equally soft personality was enough to solidify that initial interest.

lucky you for having the teacher pair the two of you up.

“well, to be honest, i struggled a lot too when i was taking his class before,” you confessed honestly, hoping your words would comfort him a little, “but, it’s mainly the way he teaches it that makes it so confusing. so, i think, i can try re-explaining everything to you in a more simple way and hopefully it works that way? does that sound good to you?”

jongseob quickly nods, finding the tone and sound of your voice a comfort and especially persuasive. you could tell him to jump up on the table and do something incredibly embarrassing and he’d probably do it.

yeah, he was in too deep.

“then, let’s start! i’ll set an alarm for a break in twenty minutes?” he nods his head in understanding, feeling unreasonably determined to not let you and your efforts in teaching him go to waste. so he leans forward, mechanical pencil ready in hand and his notebook open to the first blank page.

as you’re explaining things to him, jongseob already feels as if he’s learning more from you in the first ten minutes than he did from his teacher the past couple of weeks. also, he feels himself growing more comfortable, which is a relief. because before he felt as if his cheeks were turning bright red anytime you looked at him, now it was just the tips of his ears (he hopes…). he was able to properly speak to you and make eye contact without completely stuttering through his sentences.

after the entire two hour session, you walked together to the bus stop. jongseob was only accompanying you since he could easily walk home, but he wasn’t about to make you wait alone. plus, he finally felt himself growing comfortable enough and he didn’t want to leave so soon (even if you had just spent the past two hours together).

“so, what do you like to do outside of school?” you ask, sipping your favorite boxed juice as you waited together.

“music,” he answers quickly, correcting himself soon after with, “i like listening to and writing music,”

you blinked in surprise, not taking him as the type and an impressed look was on your face, “wow, that’s really cool. i wish i had a talent like that. do you share your music on any platforms?” you pulled out your phone, as if you were ready for him to show you, but he shakes his head.

“no, just keep them on my computer…i don’t think i want them out, it’s kind of embarrassing,” he scratches the back of his head, cursing the red blush that was definitely rising up his neck.

”i don’t think it is,” you deny, pouting at his self-deprecation, “confidence is the key, jongseob!” you encourage, hitting his shoulder lightly, “if you ever feel comfortable enough, i’d love to hear it some day,”

he blinks at the offer, wondering how to respond to such an invitation. sharing his music with someone is something he deems really intimate, especially since it’s you — the boy he has a raging crush on. but he doesn’t have to think of his response much longer as your bus pulls up to the stop.

“it was nice getting to know you better, jongseob! i look forward to our next meeting,” you smile, bow your head to him, and then board your bus not looking back at him.

he watches the bus leave, his knees going wobbly as he collapses into a crouching position with his head in his hands.

“i’m screwed,” he mutters to himself, shooting up in a second’s notice and running his hand through his hair, “he’s so annoying, i’m really screwed,” he calls you annoying only because he knows that on his walk home and all the moments he spends without seeing you, he’ll just be thinking about you.

he’s in too deep, there’s no way he’ll ever recover from this crush.

— after the first couple of meetings, you and jongseob become much more acquainted than a simple “tutor” and “tutee.” you became close friends, so close that you met shota and now often sit with them during lunch breaks or in any free time. whenever there was an open period, you’d stop by jongseob’s classroom and take a seat next to him and fill the rest of your time together with little chats. shota teases him endlessly on how lovesick he has gotten over the past couple of weeks, but jongseob lets it slide — as long as you’re nowhere near to hear it. shota has known of jongseob’s crush on you for the longest time and deep down he’s genuinely happy for his friend that he was making some progress. before, he’d have to bear with watching jongseob longingly stare at you from afar, so seeing the state you and jongseob were in was incredibly comforting to know his best friend was making some sort of progress,

“jongseobie!” your excited voice makes him look up from his phone and instantly smile. the nickname you had coined for him after a couple of tutoring session makes his heart race so very fast. he loves how it sounds, how you comfortably call him, especially when it’s in that excited tone you just used a second ago. “guess what i got!”

“what?” he says in an instant, looking at you with curiosity as you come to a halt in front of him.

“you’re supposed to guess,” you tease, rolling your eyes at him. you step closer as you wait for his response, but after he stays silent as he tries thinking of what it could be, you could barely hold it in anymore. “i got us tickets to that show you wanted to see!”

from behind your back, you pull out two stubs of paper and jongseob feels his jaw drop. he had mentioned it to you in passing, when you were talking about the music you each liked, one of his favorite, lesser known, artists was going to be playing somewhat nearby. he planned on buying the tickets, but the fact you had remembered and done it yourself was enough to get blood rushing to his cheeks.

“you- how- are you serious?” he asks, looking at the paper tickets as if they were god send.

you nod with a proud smile, showing them off, “i got them as a gift because you’ve been doing really well lately — your teacher even pulled me aside earlier this week to compliment me for how well the lessons have been doing, but it’s really been all you. you’re really smart, and a quick learner, jongseob. so i wanted to appreciate your hard efforts with these!” he blushes at your compliment, too flustered to notice that you were also blushing at how obviously you were gassing him up.

“you bought two?” he asks, wondering if this was what he thought it was. maybe you took the initiative and…

“oh, if you wanted to bring a friend, maybe shota. i don’t think concerts are that fun to go to alone, so i wanted to make sure you could bring someone,” you explain, handing the tickets to him.

before he even stops to think, he’s pushing one back into your hands and saying, “come with me, i wanna go with you.” it sounds more definitive than inviting, but you don’t seem to mind as a wide grin stretches across your face.

“really? you want me to come?”

“of course, i really want you to come with me,” he says with utmost certainty, “the only reason i’m doing well is because of you, i want us to go together,”

you smile and accept the ticket, stepping forward to loop your arm with his, “what should we wear then? tell me, what’s the artist’s vibe,”

jongseob, trying not to hyperfocus on the close contact, replies with a shaky voice, “i’m sure you’d look cool in anything,” he compliments, “don’t think too much about it!”

“but i wanna fit in with the crowd! hey, recommend me some songs so i can understand them more,” you insist, making jongseob pull out his phone to scroll through his playlist. you watch eager, leaning against his shoulder and at his phone screen as he searches. he tries to ignore how close you are and hopes you don’t see the way his hand shakes from the nerves.

what he doesn’t know is that you’re also sneaking looks at him with a smile on your face, basking in the affection you had managed to steal from him. it was flattering to know that jongseob wanted you to come as his “plus one”, but you tried not thinking too deep into it…trying to stop yourself from thinking it was anything like a date. because it wasn’t.

even if you both wished it was.

“here, i’ll send you my playlist,” he says, showing you his spotify on the screen and waiting for your approval. when you hum in response, he copies the link and goes to your messages.

“wait, what’s my contact name on your phone? have you changed it since i put it in?” you ask curiously, seeing something added to the end of your name, like an emoji, that definitely wasn’t there before.

jongseob blinks in stupor before realizing what you were referring to. he hurriedly locks his phone and turns it face down to hide it from you, laughing to play it off.

“what? why? why? what’s my name on your phone?” you tease, trying to reach for it, despite not knowing if he had a passcode or not.

“it’s nothing, it’s nothing,” he says, trying to distract you from that topic of conversation and goes back to the artist you two were going to see, “just make sure you listen to the playlist-”

“but i want to know what my contact is on your phone!” you cut him, laughing as you begin play fighting for the device.

“well, your bus is here so you won’t get to know, sorry,” he says, unfortunately speaking the truth as the familiar bus pulled up to the curb.

“i won’t forget this, jongseobie,” you say in a mock threatening voice, squinting your eyes at him, “you’re gonna show me it tomorrow!!”

“bye, bye, [name]!” he calls out, happily waving to you as the bus takes off in the opposite direction of the school.

he looks down at his phone and unlocking it to show the link of his spotify playlist that was sitting in the textbox, waiting to be sent. he looks up at the top of his screen, smiling softly at the contact name and photo he had saved for you. it was a selfie you had taken on his phone during one of your recent study sessions, showing an incredibly tired 0.5 angle of you, with his head resting on the table being seen in the background. when he was scrolling through his camera roll, he had seen it and immediately made it your profile picture. it was cute to imagine you sneakily taking his phone while he was dozed off, snapping the picture, then setting it back to its original spot.

the words underneath your photo reading as “handsome tutor 𖹭.”

jongseob would have collapsed in embarrassment if you had seen that. he sighed, hit send on the text, and locked his phone to put away in his pocket. he walked home with a smile on his face, thinking about you and the concert you two were going to together.

—

“so it’s a date?” shota asks him, chilling in his seat as jongseob explains to him everything that had went down.

“it’s not a date, shh,” jongseob says, putting his finger to his lips and glaring at shota for saying such a thing so loud.

“it sounds like a date, jongseob,” shota deadpans, not looking impressed, “you two need to get it together, the tension between you two is so suffocating,” the man shivers as if to physically show how unbearable the “tension” was, but jongseob doesn’t pay that any mind.

“it’s not a date because if it were, he would’ve said it was, but it’s not because he didn’t say that,” jongseob quickly explains, wanting to put that discussion to rest.

“okay, then it isn’t a date,” shota forfeits, rolling his eyes at his best friend’s antics.

“yeah, it isn’t…” the man confirms once more, “besides, i don’t even know if he even likes men — have we ever thought about that? he probably just thinks we are good friends, which i can settle for and is the most realistic thing, but still i wish i knew for sure! it kind of sucks not knowing if i even had a chance, y’know?”

“had a chance with who?”

jongseob freezes and shota sputters out a suffocated laugh at the timing.

you were standing right behind him and he didn’t know for how long you were, but he does wish that the ground would swallow him up whole right now.

“earth to jongseobie? hello?” you wave your hand in front of his frozen face, laughing slightly at his expression, “what’s up with him, shota?”

“i don’t know, he’s a weird guy,” the man answers with a shrug, making you laugh at the irony before taking a seat next to him.

“well, anyway! i listened to the playlist you sent me, let me show you some outfit ideas i have for us,”

“us?” jongseob echoes, wondering if he heard right.

”yeah, if we’re going together we might as well should match, right?”

shota looks at the two of you, completely worn out from how oblivious jongseob was and how shamelessly forward you were (whether you were aware of it or not was unknown to shota).

“right, right,” jongseob agrees, leaning in towards you and your phone screen.

“i think you have good style to begin with, so i tried finding something that would suit it. you’re handsome anyway, so anything you wear you’ll be able to pull off,” you ruffle his hair as you compliment him, successfully making him go red in the face.

shota once again wishes his best friend would open his eyes and end this tantalizing process already, hoping you two would just date already.

—

it was the night of the show and you and jongseob agreed to meet at a halfway point. the venue was a little far away, but nothing a pair of headphone and the bus couldn’t handle. you were currently binge listening to the playlist jongseob had sent you — you had been since he’s sent it to you — and were happily humming along to the song playing. if it weren’t for jongseob, you probably would’ve never discovered this artist, who actually suited your tastes a lot.

at the designated stop, you kept an eye out for him, grinning immediately when you locked eyes with him. his usually straight hair was done to be slightly wavy and that subtle change made your eyes falter and heart skip a couple beats. he really was so handsome. his eyes were wide, looking for you and when he finally caught sight of you, an excited smile broke out onto his face and it was so wide his eyes turned into crescents.

he walked over to you, taking the seat beside you and tried to control his excitement.

”how are you?” he asked first, trying to not stare too hard at your outfit and how good you looked. he was slightly envious, how you looked so good in everything you wore and how you naturally pulled off everything you wore. he also took note of how you both were wearing the same color-toned clothes, subtly matching. that only made him smile even wider.

“i’m excited, how about you?” you’re quick to throw the question back at him, smiling so wide it’s infectious.

“i’m really excited, i’m really happy we’re going together,” he says, nodding his head several times as he takes in this reality. if anyone had told him a couple months that he was going to one of his favorite artist’s concert with you of all people, he would’ve laughed in their face. this was all almost completely unbelievable.

“you brought your camera?” you said, motioning to the film camera that was strapped around his body.

“oh, yeah,” he takes it up into his hands, bringing the viewfinder up to his eyes and quickly snapping a photo of you. obviously, after the act was already done, you began complaining about how you weren’t ready.

“retake it, retake it,” you egged on, pushing him slightly back so it wasn’t so close to your face. he obeyed, leaning backwards and bringing his camera back up to his eye.

you smiled, holding the ticket up to your face and proudly showing it off. he smiled softly at how genuinely excited you looked, bringing the camera down from his face after he got the shot.

“your turn,” you say, gently taking the camera from his hands and bringing it up to your eye. “wait, how does this work?”

he chuckles at your question, moving close to show you how it works, nimble fingers pointing at the different parts of the camera, “here, scroll it to the right,” he says, watching you carefully, “and then when it stops, you can take the picture. just press this one,”

you get the gist, afterwards, looking up from the components of the camera and locking eyes with jongseob. you both didn’t realize how close he was until you looked up, making time freeze for a moment as you just sat there and stared at each other.

his brown bangs were slightly covering his eyes, but you were still able to see him so clearly. he really was so breathtaking…

“ready?” you asked after a couple seconds of silence, making him clear his throat and nod.

you pressed your back against the window of the bus as he leaned a little into the aisle so that he was properly spaced out in the shot. he held up his own ticket, pursuing his lips as he slightly smiled at the camera. the corners of your lips quirked up at his cute expression, taking the picture swiftly.

“it sucks we don’t see them right away though,” you comment, handing the film camera back to him.

“we can still take pictures on our phones,” he comforts, pulling out his own and immediately holding it up for a selfie. smiling at the opportunity, you lean close to his person, practically cuddled up to his side.

and even after reaching levels of comfortability with you that he thought was impossible, being physically close to you still flustered him. he liked it though, obviously. he liked you, so any affection you showed him was welcome in his eyes. which is exactly why he didn’t push you away or shift his torso from you. instead he leaned into your side as well, positioning the camera at multiple different angles for you two.

then you took out your own phone, taking pictures for your own camera roll. the last one you took was a silly 0.5 one that the both of you laughed at after seeing the finished product.

“these are cute,” you comment, scrolling through your own, “send me the ones on your phone!”

“okay, okay,” he complies, going to share them straight from his camera roll and sending them to you a couple seconds later. he doesn’t realize it, but his screen is clearly visible to you, meaning you were finally able to see what the contact name he had for you was.

you blushed heavily seeing it, forcing your head to look away to not be caught, trying to force the smile on your face down. instead, you took a comfortable resting spot on his shoulder, feeling a surge of confidence in your actions due to the revealed contact name.

jongseob’s shoulder stiffened at the bold action, but he tried to calm himself down to not ruin the moment. he looked anywhere else but you, not wanting to be caught blushing a deep red if you were to look at him. he didn’t realize you snuck one more photo in, smiling like a fool at your camera as your head rested on his shoulder.

after about a thirty minute bus ride, you finally were at the stop closest to the venue. you pulled the wired headphones from your ear, jongseob passing you the other pair, and both of you hopped off of the bus to walk to the venue.

you both weren’t particularly keen on getting there super early to be close, so the line wasn’t as long as you thought it would’ve been.

“wait, go ahead,” he says, motioning for you to keep walking without him. and you were going to question why, but then saw that he had his camera in his hand and wanted a shot of you walking to the venue, which had the name of the artist plastered in shining lights above the main entrance way.

he joined you in a couple of seconds, jogging up to your side and excitedly walking up to security to be let in.

you and jongseob were near the back of the pit, but since it was a small place, the view you had of the stage wasn’t that bad.

“this is so cool,” you say, stars in your eyes as you take in the environment. jongseob hums beside you, making sure to stick close to you to not lose you in the crowd. his arm hung loosely off of your shoulder, which made you more inclined to slot yourself into his side.

maybe it was the darker atmosphere and the fact you were in a bigger crowd now, where it was easy to hide away, but the both of you had gotten a boost of confidence in lingering touches.

jongseob didn’t think twice in holding you close to him and you weren’t as secretive in stealing glances his way. he didn’t feel as flustered and embarrassed as he usually did, which made him not think twice in committing to being affectionate with you.

he wishes he was like this all the time. capable of holding eye contact with you without looking away after the first five seconds. capable of looking at your eyes then your lips without feeling himself go red in the face immediately. a couple months deep into this crush of his and sometimes he was still acting like he hasn’t been seeing you everyday, as if he was still just admiring you from afar.

meanwhile, you were loving every second of this. seeing jongseob not hesitate in keeping you close and stare at you, it was infectious.

before you knew it, the main act had came onto the stage and now all of your attention was on them. jongseob’s arm left your shoulder to take a couple of pictures with both his phone and film camera, but he still made sure to be close.

the two of you were singing to your hearts’ content, sometimes breaking out into laughter at how horrid your voices sounded. but you were smiling and laughing together and that was all that mattered. the show went on faster than you both had realized and the singer was now announcing that it would be their final song of the night.

when the first chords played throughout the venue, you instinctively held onto jongseob’s hand and squeezed tight because it was the song you were hoping they were going to play. excitedly you looked at him to see his reaction, wondering if he was waiting for this song as well, but when you turned to him, he was already looking at you.

and you were happy you didn’t have the strength to look away because staring into his eyes as the song played in the background felt as if you were in the middle of a romance movie scene. one of those god awful cheesy scenes where the two love interests have the camera spin around them as they slowly lean in to kiss each other, or some other form of major affection. you almost laughed out loud at the idea of that being you and jongseob. not because it was actually humorous, but because it was so outlandish.

there was no way jongseob liked you back like you liked him.

that contact name on his phone was probably just a coincidence…

you swallowed the lump in your throat and forced yourself to look away from his dark eyes, that were pleadingly looking at you, begging for you to do something. the moment your head turned in the other direction, though, jongseob felt a wave of frustration and immense emotion crash down on him.

it wasn’t fair. he wants to kiss you, tell you how badly he’s fallen in love with you. he doesn’t want to keep sneaking glances at you when all he wants to do is stare at you all day long. and with the way the lights are reflecting on you, the fucking song playing in the background, there’s no reasonable way for jongseob to hold himself back.

he’s so frustrated at himself for harboring such strong emotions for you, but he wouldn’t want it any other way.

so he finally grows the courage to reach out and gently cup your face and force you to look back at him. he doesn’t give himself, or you, a second to properly react as he leans forward and smashes his lips against yours. it’s dramatic, desperate, and borderline aggressive, but it’s what he’s feeling — all those times he’s had to hold himself back from making you his. it was all released in this one kiss.

it took a couple of seconds to realize what was happening. and when you did, you could feel him beginning to pull away. squeezing your eyes shut to really bask in the moment, you brought your hand up to the back of his neck and held him in place, finally kissing him back.

the hand that was once resting on your cheek had now fallen to your waist, bringing you in closer to his person. his fingers were squeezing you so tight, as if he were afraid you’d slip away if his grip loosened even the tiniest bit. you were moving in sync with one another, hungry for that affection you were both restraining from each other before. your arms looped around his neck and you could feel him smile into the kiss at the action. it was infectious because now you were two smiling, kissing fools.

after pulling away, the world around you both was so fuzzy, the song playing being the only thing that you could sense as loud and clear. the both of you were panting from such an intense kiss. his arms were wrapped around your lower half while yours lazily hung off of his shoulders.

“[name], i really, really like you,” he says breathless, “even before you spoke to me, i liked you,” it was shocking to learn how long he had been harboring this crush on you, but you didn’t stop him from going on, “i’ve wanted to kiss you like that for so long,”

a weak bout of laughter was shared between you two and jongseob had to force himself to continue on, “please, give me a chance and be my boyfriend, please,”

you played with the hair at the base of his neck, making him shiver at the sensation while you grinned at him.

“you don’t need to beg for it. i’m already yours, jongseob,” you crash into his chest and he breathes a heavy sigh of relief, holding you tight. the two of you stand like that, rocking back and forth and just taking in the final song — that was now apart of one of your fondest memories.

after it was finished, you both pulled away and shared one more long kiss. it wasn’t as desperate as the first, but you could still feel that longing from him as he eagerly deepened it. the only reason why you two had to pull away was because the rest of the crowd was beginning to move and since you were in the back of the pit, you would’ve been in everyone’s way.

jongseob tightly held your hand as he guided you through the crowd, smiling so wide that his cheeks were hurting. the same could be said for you, too, as you followed him wherever he took you. waiting at the same bus stop wasn’t long and the entire time, you were just staring at each other with permanent smiles on each of your faces.

your hands were still intertwined, even as you sat on the bus.

“so wait, you knew who i was already, and liked me, before i even introduced myself to you?” you asked, grinning on his shoulder as you finally had the quiet environment to ask him about all the details. he blushed at the sudden question, using one hand to hide the bottom of his face.

“do we really have to go through this right now?” he asked, feeling incredibly shy at how close your face was to his (as if you weren’t sucking face a couple minutes ago), especially with that mischievous look in your eyes.

“no, we don’t have to, i just want to hear you talk about it.”

“so, you just want to have your ego boosted?” he teased, playing with your fingers as he smiled in amusement. you clasped your hand around his, chuckling and just resting your head on his shoulder. he leaned on the top of your head, wondering how things worked out so well.

it felt like something out of his dreams.

the man of his dreams was nestled into his side after seeing one of his favorite singers. kissing him during one of his favorite songs, finally making him his boyfriend. jongseob couldn’t help but stare out the window with the widest smile on his face.

taking in his surroundings, he cautiously reached for his film camera on his side. he could tell that halfway through your trip back you had fallen asleep so he wanted to be sure not to wake you as he took the photo. it was cheesy, but he wanted to have something to immortalize this night and the memory of it. he’d never forget it, he knew that for sure, but he wanted a physical token of what has happened and the deep meaning of tonight.

after taking pictures to his heart’s content, he simply leaned his head against yours and waited until you both arrived to your bus stop.

— a couple weeks later

“what do you have there?” you ask, rolling over in bed to look over jongseob’s shoulder.

there was no one home at the moment, so you were being as freely affectionate as you wanted. it had been a couple of weeks since the night of the concert and it has been nothing but perfect since. not only were the two of you finally out of school, making it officially summer (jongseob had passed his math final with flying colors, not to your surprise since he really was so smart).

the window was open, letting in the occasional breeze to cool you two off. but the both of you were laying in your bed, shirtless as you tried basking in as much cold air as possible. jongseob had told you he had something to surprise you with, digging through his bag with his back turned to you.

“i made sure to ask for two copies of each one,” he said, pulling out a thick envelope. your arms were wrapped around his waist, resting flat on his bare stomach and softly stroking up and down. he looked at you with a smile, presenting what was inside with an expectant look on his face.

when you finally realized what it was, you detached yourself from his back in a moment’s notice and took the papers into your hands.

“oh my god, jongseobie,” you gasped, taking in all of the photos your boyfriend had captured on his film camera and looking through them in pure excitement, “wait, i didn’t know you took a picture then,” it was the one of when you were sleeping on his shoulder. you smiled at the memory, fondly looking at your boyfriend and leaning in for a quick peck.

“you’re too handsome i had to,” he compliments, knocking his forehead against yours before pulling away.

“thank you, baby, but so are you — i mean, c’mon, look at you,” you squeeze his cheeks quickly while looking through the rest of the photos of the night. the memories were still vivid in your mind, “i like this one a lot,”

it was before you arrived at the venue, when you were riding the bus there. looking at it on a physical copy now, it was so obvious how deep your affections for each other were. jongseob leaning into your body that was unexplainably close to his, a blush on both of your cheeks, as well as wide grins.

“i love you,” he says quietly, kissing the bare skin of your shoulder several times over before resting his cheek against your warm flesh. you smile at the affection, turning back to face him properly.

it slips off of your tongue so fluently at this point, an easy, “i love you too,” directed to him and only him. and now you’re both smiling at each other like idiots.

— jongseob, who has a crush on you for the longest time and doesn’t know how to act on it. the type to ignore it at first, in hopes of it just dying down so he doesn’t have to worry about it since he already has so much on his plate. but once he realizes he’s in too deep, thinking about you in every passing second, he doesn’t fight against his feelings any longer. he’s content just being aware of them, not seeking for more in fear of rejection or ridicule. but once he knows it’s safe for him to show just how deep his adoration and love for you is, he’ll be as unrestricted as possible in showcasing it to you — eager to show you what he had been withholding.

"in the heat of the summer, you're so different from the rest. you know, you know, you know, oh oh. you know that you should be my boy, oh, yes, you know, oh yes, you know"

[nonotnolan]

The Ends Justify The Means

As always, this February story is dedicated to my valentine, @mergeman

"Okay, but did we have to add him to the Hivemind?" Jordan said, looking at his unconscious boss with a look of resigned disappointment. "If I end up with an old man's vocabulary because of him, I'm gonna be so upset. This body looks too good to sound like a geezer." He tossed his shirt to the ground and gave me a flex. "See what I mean?"

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Some humans stress-tested my 40% Free Will rule, and Jordan was definitely one of them. "One, bringing him into the Collective is the only way to bend his authority to our will. Two, the symbiote doesn't change our speech, it just enhances our knowledge. And three, the eventual goal is to overtake most of humanity anyway. We were gonna have to add Shaun sooner or later."

Jordan nodded, though I doubted he was paying any attention me. He was one of the part-time workers I had converted within the past two hours, and so his symbiote half was still checking out his new body. I can't blame it, I suppose.

I wasn't sure this plan was even going to work, so I was glad we managed to succeed. Capturing the part-time college students who worked here had been easy-- a bit of flirting from a tempting body, a kiss to introduce the symbiote, rinse and repeat. Shaun had been much more difficult. We had to resort to ambushing him in the bathroom where there we no cameras. Jordan's strength held him in place while I pried open his jaw to insert the new symbiote. It was far from elegant-- Shaun was stronger than he looked-- but at least it worked.

Shaun finally opened his eyes, and looked at me with a wry grin. "Alright, sir. I know we have a lot to talk about, but let's retreat somewhere else, shall we? It's cramped in here, and I think Jordan is a few moments away from whipping his dick out."

"You're not wrong," I said, shaking my head. "We should probably leave him to it. If nothing else, it will be nice to talk things over someplace a bit... less pungent. I assume you know what is going to be expected of you?"

"I do," Shaun says, crossing his arms. "Although I was hoping to talk to you about that one. I scheduled Darren to work Valentine's Day because I haven't had that day off for the past three years. This body's wife is threatening to make life miserable if I still have to work the holiday despite my recent promotion. I have a proposal for you."

I smiled at the audacity of this symbiote. Clearly its host body had a lot of confidence.

"Darren will still get the day off, of course," Shaun said. "But instead of working the day myself, I'll just tell Jenn that she's going to have to handle the shift solo. We don't need two store managers tomorrow night-- no one goes furniture shopping on Valentine's."

----------------------------------------------

"You'll never guess what happened today!" Darren said, greeting me when I arrived home. He and I had been dating for a few weeks now, ever since I was granted control over this host body. Unlike the symbiotes who were mostly extensions of my mind and my personality, I had full control and full autonomy over my decisions. Coming out of the closet was one of the first changes I made to this host's former life.

"Your store is actually closing for a holiday?" I guessed, walking up to him and hugging him from behind. I held him close, feeling the heat of his body against my borrowed chest. Humans were very big on physical contact, and it was a ritual I was more than happy to join.

Darren chuckled as he turned around for a quick kiss. "Okay, so it wasn't a miracle. But it was still pretty crazy! Shaun texted me, and approved my vacation time for tomorrow. Can you believe that? I've never known him to change his mind like that before."

I just smiled at him. "Maybe your District Manager yelled at him about it? You did submit that request a few months ago." As much as I hated feeding white lies and omitted facts to my boyfriend, I couldn't justify telling him my full truth this early in the relationship. Anyway, the only way I'd be filling him with a symbiote would be if we broke up and he posed a risk to my secret. I wanted a relationship with an equal, not a masturbatory fling with a clone of myself. Anyway, what was the phrase? The ends justify the means.

"Well, maybe." He paused a few minutes to consider this possibility before shrugging his shoulders. "I don't know, and I'm not going to question it. I'm just glad you kept those dinner reservations! I'm looking forward to tomorrow's date!" He smiled, and I could feel my heart melting. I would do anything in my power to make him happy.

[kimingyuslover]

The call

synopsis : you never thought that one call could leave you in a tearful night.

word count : 759

pairing : lee seokmin x afab!reader

warnings : reader is mentioned wearing a dress, angst (sorry not sorry), tears.

a.n : i feel like i need more angst in my life & i want to create a oneshot that will have the readers bawling their eyes out. idk to you guys, but i cried a little while writing this.

the white mini dress you wore is adoring to everyone's eyes. you decided that it was time for you to have a date again, after your last one, which is 3 weeks ago.

the night ends so quickly, the date went absolutely wonderful, you have to thank Mingyu– who arranged this date, with lots of food.

"yeah, the date went so excellent! i think we'd have another date next week" you say as you start to open your laptop to finish the proposal you've been writing for ages.

"should i expect a barbecue dinner next month? you probably ended with this guy" Mingyu said on the other side, making you let out a giggle.

"i don't know, but maybe—

you can't figure the name of the contacts on your phone, and you can't remember whose this number belongs to, but you answer it because you think it's maybe something important?

you got cut off by the ringtone from your phone, someone calls you, "wait a sec gyu, i need to pick up another call" which Mingyu answered with, "yeah sure, call me again right after that"

"hello?" you let out.

"y/n," the other person replied. you know who this is, and you're planning to hang up the call, but before you can do it, he speaks again.

"i'm sorry! please don't hang up, i need to let this out, my hearts feels heavy if i have to carry this every day." he said, you replied nothing, and he take that as a yes, he can speak to you.

"i want you to know that, i still love you. i messed up a big time while we're still in a relationship, i'm sorry that i don't take the blame even though it's my fault, i'm sorry i neglected you, neglected our relationship. i need you to know that my heart still belongs to you. i tried, i really tried to leave you alone because that's what a good ex should do, right? but when i heard you already go on dates, my heart started to aches so much that it really brought tears to my eyes. that night, i had a few drinks because of the pressure my company put me in, i shouldn't lashed it out on you that night. i'm not in my right state of mind. my mind wanders around when you leave me, i feel miserable, i feels like shit, an asshole, a prick, bastard, and other terms that i used to believe i'm not one of them. i promise your mom to always protect you, but in the end, i was the one who hurt you," you heard him letting out a silent sobs. you don't want to cut him. you feel your own tears start to huddle in your eyes.

"i never made any attempt to make time for you because i think, i need space where i'm alone, far from you, and of course, i was wrong. i never want you to be far from me, i want you to hold me close every time I had a shitty day like you used to before my work schedule demanding every time i have and i start to distancing myself from you. i regret every single second when i'm thinking about what i did to you, i never deserved you, and you deserve so much more than me," now, it's your time to let out your silent sobs.

"Everyday, every night when i see my apartment, all i see is you. every corner of this building held it memory of you, i missed you, i missed us before everything happens" notices your sobs, he pauses for awhile.

"you don't need to answer me, i just want to let you know that every inch of me loves you until now. you deserve a man who can make his time for you, who can control his emotion better than me," he stop for a second, "who can love you better than i do"

that's your breaking down point. you try to speak, "seokmin, i'm sorry"

"it's not your fault. it's mine, it's never yours, i made us this way, so i have to accept it. " he chuckles dryly, and not long after that, he hangs up the call.

minutes later, you received a text from the same number

i'm not drunk or tipsy. everything that comes out of my mouth is proof that i, in fact, is still mourning for our relationship.

i hope you'll have a good life, away from me, goodbye, my love.

[hahaifolded]

Can We Make This Work? (1)

Nanami Kento x POC!FemReader x Gojo Satoru (Masterlist) Chapter 1: Surprise, you're getting married! (Next) Summary: After finding out that jujutsu sorcerers were appearing outside of Japan, the higher ups propose a union to consolidate their power. Warnings: Racist themes, coercion

It was a random Wednesday in Tokyo. In Gojo Satoru's eyes, there was absolutely nothing special about today. The only remotely exciting thing about today was the scheduled higher up meeting that had been in his calendar for weeks marked important. 

Every meeting is important for these geezers, thought the sorcerer. These meetings were always the same… there’s too many curses these days, let’s kill the vessel, you need to grow up Gojo… same old same old. It was any other day for Gojo Satoru.

The meeting started as usual. The higher ups getting on Gojo for his lack of respect for tradition… whatever that means. 

“But no worries. This union should change you for the better,” commented a voice. 

Huh, that was new. 

“The balance of the jujutsu world has shifted once again. What we once thought to be Japanese phenomenon is no more,” announced a voice. 

Another voice began as soon as the first ended. “After your confrontment with Miguel, we decided to look into the possibility of others like him. And much to our surprise, it seems that Jujutsu sorcerers have been spawning outside of Japan for years now. Some of them have even joined forces and made a governing body among these foreign sorcerers. They’ve just now came in contact with us and have asked for guidance.”

A third continued, “the initial plan was to wipe them out. However, many of them have presented techniques that we once believed to be only found among us. Attacking them would end up being too cumbersome for us.” 

Gojo, tired of this exposition, spoke up, “so if wiping them out is not an option anymore, what do you need me for?” To his surprise, deep hallow laughter filled the room. He didn’t like that. 

“Taking a page out of your book, we decided on a less violent approach. We offered these exotic sorcerers a union… a union between one of their strongest and one of our own.”

They don’t mean?

The first voice continued, "and since we've halted on further attempts on your students, I don't expect you to have any qualms with this deal. Make us look like fools and we won't hesitate to do the same to you." The laughter returned.

“Don't look too glum, Gojo. Today is a special day. You’re getting married.” 

— — —

I can’t believe this man. Nanami was stressed, and it wasn’t even his wedding. Much to his dismay, the groom-to-be had asked forced the 7:3 sorcerer to be his best man a few days ago.

Now he was rushing to the groom’s suite, looking for Satoru who was about to be late to his own wedding. 

“You better have a good reason for this, Gojo,” scolded the younger sorcerer as he swung the door open. Rushing in, he expected to see Satoru napping or just playing dumb, but instead he was met with the complete opposite. In the grand suite sat a complete living room set, vanity, and full-length mirror and absolutely no sign of the groom.

Not sensing the man, Nanami looked around the room. His eyes suddenly fell to a piece of paper that laid on the coffee table. As he neared the paper, the sorcerer couldn’t help but feel nervous. 

He felt his veins bulge in his neck as he read the words: Sorry, couldn’t to this. Congrats, you’re getting married! P.S. Sorry I couldn’t make it to your wedding, Nanamin.

I’m going to kill him.

Before Nanami could do anything, Principal Gakuganji walked in. “There you are, Nanami. The ceremony is about to start.” 

“I think there’s been—“ started the best man turned groom. However, he couldn’t get much out before the old man started to speak.

“You know when Gojo told us about your interest in this union, we thought the boy was just trying to get out of this. But after singing your praises and informing us about your uniques tastes for the exotic, the higher ups and I realized there was no better fit. A responsible, formidable grade 1 sorcerer, and... whatever these foreigners present. I can't picture a better union." Gakuganji smiled, or attempted to smile.

Nanami felt sick. He knew he couldn't stop this. The now-groom was nothing compared to the higher ups. He had always been and still was at their complete mercy. All he can hope that this union won't completely dismantle his life.

— — —

Kento Nanami always imagined his wedding would be small ceremony with a lot of heart. His and his bride's parents in the front as familiar faces filled the pews. Even when he reintegrated himself into jujutsu society and sidelined his dreams, the image of it never wavered.

What stood before him was the complete opposite.

Per request of the foreign sorcerers, the wedding was done in the Western tradition. The venue was filled with way too many unfamiliar faces, mostly from your side. His side was filled with fellow sorcerers and the Tokyo students. Yuji and Ino stared at him from their seats, whispering loudly about how come they weren't asked to be groomsmen or even told explicitly that this was his wedding. Nanami could feel a headache coming on.

To his dismay, the music starts. The doors at the end of the aisle snapped open as the wedding march began. Nanami couldn't help but feel nervous. His entire life was about to change all thanks to a certain menace. It also didn't help that his bride-to-be was completely covered from head to toe in a white veil. Nanami wasn't one to care for looks, but in this case, he just wanted to know what Gojo had gotten him into.

Did he get a glimpse of her and ran off, he couldn't help but think. Every possible worst case scenario ran through his mind as you walked down the aisle. What if he found she was a monster and- no despite everything, he wouldn't do that to me... right? As you got closer, Nanami's heart felt closer and closer of leaping out of his chest.

"Everyone, please take a seat," announced Principal Yaga. He smiled apologetically at Nanami. He realized what his older student did to the poor man before him. He let out a small cough and asked Nanami to lift your veil. Here we go, winced the sorcerer.

With his breath held, he slowly lifted your veil. The entire room completely disappeared as your face slowly came to light. Nanami was in awe. He was met with a sheepish smile and bright, kind eyes. A sight he didn't get to see much these days. You were truly a breath of fresh spring air, absolutely rejuvenating.

And with your face uncovered, your energy absolutely shook the room. For many of the Tokyo sorcerers, it felt weirdly familiar, but they couldn't put their finger on it.

As Nanami looked in your eyes, he thought, maybe this won't be so bad.

Word Count: 1160

Masterlist - Next

Author's Note: Y'all I was literally studying for my exam when this little thought popped up in my head. The way it festered and took a solid hold in my mind. So excited to write this!

I absolutely love how this chapter came out! I'll make a master list soon so stay tune!

[snoozepotato]

We’ll Be Fine -14- (Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x f!Reader)

Disclaimer: I do NOT own the original source material or any of its characters.

she/her pronouns + female anatomy

Category: slice of life, slow burn, mutual pining

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, swearing, eye contact, p-in-v sex, unprotected sex, over-stimulation, multi-orgasm, creampie, soft Ghost, anxiety, scars, tattoos, fluff

Masterlist

Summary: Ghost shows up at your room late at night, he just got back and has been gone longer than expected. You missed him a lot and things get out of hand (≖ᴗ≖)

Part 14

~UNDONE~

You’ve been trying your best to keep the negative thoughts at bay, it's not abnormal for missions to take longer than expected. But Ghost's vague estimate of a few weeks left you unsettled, even more so as time started to pass. A few weeks had turned into a few months, as life slogged by on base around you. Keeping yourself weighed down with busy work while your mind drifts.

Things take time, hell, you know that from experience. Even so, you’ve been worried about him, it's started affecting your already inconsistent sleep schedule. And dammit, you missed having tea with him in the morning!

You'd been brooding in your room since completing your work for the day, curled up in bed wearing Ghost’s hoodie. You're thankful he never asked for it back, in moments like these it was one of the only things that kept you grounded. Snuggling into the garment and taking a deep breath. It's been a while but somehow his scent still lingers in the fabric, or maybe it’s just some wishful thinking on your part.

Fuck, you're a wreck…

A sudden knocking on your door startles you from your position on the bed. Staring perplexed, why would someone be here this late? There's a sudden spark of fear that shoots through you, with the odd hour, what if it's bad news? You're frozen there for a moment, feet dangling off the edge of the mattress. Anxiety sitting cold in your gut as you just stare blankly through the darkness.

Until another knock erupts from the other side of the barrier, louder this time. You spring from the bed, the fear overtaken by curiosity. Whoever it is better have a good reason for waking you… Well, you technically weren't asleep, but you should be. You hastily unlock the door to peek your head out, only to be greeted by a broad chest.

There in your doorway, looking a little worse for wear is Ghost.

You're struck by the view of him standing there clad in that worn mask with the skull face plate. You've seen him wearing it on more than a few occasions, usually when he's on his way off base for work. It's rather intimidating, you're sure it serves its purpose out in the field. But if you're being completely honest, it's always left you feeling a little heated.

“You’re home,” dazed words escape you, feeling foolish at your choice of phrasing.

“Did I wake you?” He's grasping the door frame with a gloved hand, peering down at you with mild concern. Did he strip his gear off and immediately come looking for you? When did he even get back?

“No, I couldn't sleep… You can sit down,” you mutter, turning on the light and motioning him in. Taking one last glance out into the vacant hallway before closing the entry after him. Leaving you alone in the quiet of your room with Ghost, who's stripped off his jacket and taken a seat at your desk chair. Your frazzled mind is racing while you try to keep your rapidly slipping composure. The space grows quieter by the moment as he sits there staring at the ground between you.

“Everything ok?” You ask, but his mind is somewhere else, “Simon?” Stepping forward you stand in front of his seated form. The sound of his name coaxes his gaze up to meet yours, and fire erupts in his dark eyes.

“I’m fine,” he mutters.

“I was worried about you,” the words fumble from your lips as you take another step forward to stand between his widened legs.

“That why you're moping about your room… In my clothes?” He's smirking beneath the fabric of the mask, very obviously taking in your form before him. You can’t help but feel naked under his heavy gaze despite the oversized garment.

Observing wordlessly as he removes his gloves, and rests a now bare appendage at the hem of the sweatshirt. Your eyes are locked, as he searches for any sign of hesitation. Caressing the delicate skin of your thigh before trailing up to halt at the waistband of your shorts. Heartbeat hammering away in your chest as he dips a finger beneath the thin fabric. Dragging it down till the garment slips, pooling at your feet. A shaky breath escapes you as his lingering touch skims back up your leg to rest on your bare hip.

“Nothin' under those, you waiting up for me?” He murmurs darkly, eyes burning into yours.

“I missed you,” the words slip out as he lazily pulls you down to settle into his lap without resistance.

You reach out to caress the side of his face, thumb brushing over the rigid material of the weathered mask. He's watching you, curiously eyes meeting yours. Embarrassment creeps in as he catches your dreamy stare. Looking away with blushed cheeks and shifting restlessly.

“You seem to like this one,” he coaxes, tugging you further against him, putting an end to your weak attempt at retreat.

“I never said that,” you mutter defensively, caught off guard by his accusation, not that it wasn’t true…

“Don’t have to, I've caught you staring at me,” he pauses, “guess I never thought that was why.”

The dry words only further your embarrassment, as your head slumps against his shoulder to hide your feverish complexion.

Suddenly you’re hoisted upwards, choking down a shaky breath as the stiffness of him presses against you. Your legs braced around him as he makes his way over to your bed, lowering you onto the cot and caging you beneath him. As your body sinks into the thin mattress pad your mind is suddenly plagued with doubt, insecurity sparking in your chest.

“You're sure?… You were gone a while” you murmur awkwardly, propping yourself onto your elbows as you peer up at his looming figure.

“I’ve been waiting so patiently, love,” his words drip with desperate sincerity, that fire smoldering in his eyes as he descends upon you.

His hands work their way up your sides to snake beneath the material of the sweatshirt. Pulling the garment over your head and tossing it onto your desk chair. Your bare state would have felt unjust if his own shirt hadn't followed suit immediately after.

Leaving you laying there trying not to gawk, while nimble hands make quick work of his belt. Freeing the beast that's clearly trapped within the confines of his pants. To say the scale was daunting would be an understatement, but lying there beneath his toned figure, you were more than willing to accommodate.

“You ready for me?” He drawls, stroking his hard cock as he gazes down at your exposed form, like he's about to devour you.

“I’m all yours,” you coo as he brushes your entrance. Slowly teasing his head in and out of your already dripping slit, taking care to drag across your needy flesh till your thighs are twitching with building anticipation. A tightly coiled spring ready to burst, trembling and desperate for more.

The impatience quickly takes hold, hooking your knee over his hip to pull him deeper into you as he hisses out a curse. Consumed by the satisfying pleasure of being filled to the brim, his name uttered as a breathy sigh escaping your lips. Glazed eyes half-lidded as he admires your blissed expression, all for him.

“Fuck, you're tight” he rasps, the pressure building as your release begins to spill over. Gripping your knee, he pushes your leg up to split you open for his greedy length.

Gasping out in desperation, you arch to meet the friction of his rhythmic thrusts. Chasing that perfect angle, body tensing as you pulse with crackling pleasure. Riding out your orgasm all the while swimming in his murky gaze. The feeling of unraveling in his hands, fallen apart and at his mercy.

It's overwhelming.

Catching notice of your unrest, his pace slows as you try to catch your breath. But your eyes are downcast, suddenly afraid to meet his stare.

Icy doubt licking at your chest.

“Keep your eyes on me love,” hushed words murmured against your ear. You suck in a sharp breath, swallowing down a whimper as his heat leaves you. He grasps your chin with a firm hand, forcing you to meet his sharp gaze. Expecting to face the reaper, only to catch sight of his bare stumbled jaw. Your eyes lock for a long moment, the mask is gone. You're left gaping at him, eyes wide and startled.

“You alright?” His words are short, concern sparking in his stare.

You're so used to anonymity, it's easy to never see someone's face when you're sitting behind a computer all day. There was always that sliver of secrecy with Ghost until this moment, and it had always felt normal. Even so, it's still his eyes that draw you in, his trust in you is so blatant now. Every ounce of anonymity was stripped away, Simon caging you beneath him.

“I’m good,” you mutter through a sigh, leaning into his touch as his hold relaxes to caress your flushed face. His tense features unwinding at the view of you smiling up at him.

“Bend over for me love, I want to look at you, all of you,” he murmurs, your eyes held in his tender gaze.

Pulling you from your lying position, to bend you over the bed before him. Anxiety creeping in again as he admires your form from behind, feeling utterly vulnerable under his heavy gaze. But this heat washes over you, like he’s engulfed you in the fire smoldering in his eyes.

“Pretty little thing,” he breathes, running a hand down the length of your back, thumb tracing along the curve of your spine. He can feel the scars that lie beneath the white of your tattoo, a reminder of where you've been, how you got to him.

“Look how easy you’ve come undone for me,” he teases, an evident smirk in his tone.

Your back arches as he drags the head of his cock over your already sensitive flesh. Entering you again from your position bent over the bed. Your leg lowers to the floor to retain your balance as he presses deeply into your soaked folds. Simon letting out a low grumble of a moan as he thrusts to bury himself completely within you.

“Fuck, you're so wet,” he groans.

A strained wine escapes your lips at the friction, vision losing its focus momentarily. Craning your head to the side, catching his dark stare out of the corner of your sight.

“Your eyes… Do something to me,” you gasp breathlessly, your heated words gripping him as he continues relentlessly thrusting into you.

“Sensitive,” you sputter, bucking against him as the walls of your heat twitch with building pressure. Rough hands pulling you by the waist to meet his pounding length.

“Good,” he pants, “let go for me.”

Snaking a hand around you to rest the pad of his finger on your swollen clit. The action alone causes your hips to spasm involuntarily from overstimulation. Trembling wrists nearly give way as he circles the tender flesh.

Biting back a gasp as you're pushed over the edge again, your walls clenching around him as another orgasm rolls through you. His large hand cradles your breast, arching your back further as his thrusts grow frantic, cock pulsing as your heat spasm.

“Fuck,” he rasps, groaning as he jerks stiffly within you. Release spilling over, your body pressed against him, his breath hot in your ear. You shudder as his cock throbs, filling you with warmth, and you're unable to suppress the soft moan that escapes your lips.

His fingers curl into your side as he buries his face into your shoulder, thrusting sharply into you once more, completely drained.

You knew he'd eventually have to leave, but you couldn't help but drift off to sleep nestled against him. Simon's back to the door as he gazes down at you, keeping watch over your resting form.

The mask has returned when you wake sometime later, to a hand brushing the stray hair from your face. He murmurs something but you don't quite catch it through the haze of your slumber. In your foggy state, you completely miss him nabbing the mug off your desk before heading out the door.

The sound fully rips you from your stupor as you sit up in your cold bed, realizing you're once again alone in your room. You contemplate letting sleep take hold, but instead get up to re-clothe yourself in the sweatshirt he'd discarded on the chair. You feel kinda pathetic laying there sulking again in his absence, missing the furnace of a man in your bed...

But your thoughts are halted by a firm knocking on the door. Before you can second-guess yourself, you're already yanking the entry open. And there he is standing outside your door again, but now holding two cups of tea. Changed out of his dirty clothes from earlier, but still wearing that mask… 

What a fucking tease.

“Told you I'd right be back,” he states plainly, making his way back into the small space and taking a seat at your desk.

Watching amused as you settle back onto your bed. It's quiet as you sip your tea, mask left discarded on your pillow. His short-cropped hair lay disheveled, pressed against his head from the long hours of wear. Calling your name softly, he looks so tired but there's this levity in his eyes.

You might have made a lot of mistakes in life, but meeting Simon Riley wasn't one of them. Looking at you with that tender gaze, it felt like home. Somewhere to return after the horrors of the world take their toll, hands to guide each other through the darkness.

WELL then, I hope you enjoyed (′ꈍᴗꈍ‵)

Thank you so very much for reading, this is all I have planned for this section of their story. I've got a few related fics/oneshots mulling in my brain so be on the lookout for those and more art!

@tallrock35 @violet-19999 @hypernovaxx @k4marina @sebsbee @d4z01 @ramadiiiisme @embers-of-alluring @enfppixie

[yuna542]

Connected (OT8 x reader)

Part 1 <-

Part 2

Pairing: OT8xreader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff

Warnings: 18+, Suggestive Themes, Swearing

Word Count: 2.4k

Note: So that’s the beginning. I hope you like the little introduction. Went for a full wattpad cliché with Felix but I love it

On your first day of your new job as the personal manager of Stray Kids, you didn't expect to be standing in front of the man you made out with last night in a club. But it soon becomes clear that the Stray Kids don't just want you as their manager.

Will this passionate arrangement end your career?

The building was huge and you suspected that it would take you several months to stop getting lost. Apart from that, all the other colleagues had been really friendly so far and took away your nervousness a little.

The business manager had greeted you and led you through the floors. He was a short, middle-aged man who constantly pushed his glasses around on his nose. He made no secret of the fact that he didn't think much of you. But he was polite and as long as it remained at disapproving looks, because of your hairstyle, the make up, your clothes, or because you are simply younger than most employees here, that was okay.

The JYP entertainment building was tastefully decorated and looked more modern than any other company you had seen. There was a lot of plants and greens and you already felt welcome just by the warm interior.

Soon you were joined by one of the receptionist, who tried to force all the important information and knowledge about the company into your head.

Until today, everything was kept strictly under lock and key to protect the artists, so as not to attract any psychotic superfans. However, because of this, you had to teach yourself everything about the company and your clients in a very short time.

Finally, she led you to the office that would soon be your own.

"It's still a little empty. You can set it up the way you'd like."

Overwhelmed, you stroked your fingers across the oak desk. Then she took an Ipad from the table and handed it to you.

"The laptop and Ipad will be provided for you. All the important dates through next week are already entered into the schedule. But from now on, you take over the scheduling and planning. If you need something don’t be afraid to tell the staff.“

You nodded and accepted the Ipad. The office was beautiful. The walls were a pastel green and there were even two little palm trees on the light parquet floor.

"You have all day to get to know everything first. If you have any questions, contact me or Mr. Yang at any time. The real work will start next week."

You bowed and tried to suppress a big smile. This job really seemed perfect.

"Thank you very much. I'll start right away!"

Mrs. Kim seemed to think of something else and with a glance at her watch, she nodded.

"First, you should meet your clients, for whom you are now responsible."

"I'd love to."

Now your excitement raised once again. You fervently hoped that you would get along with the musicians you had to work for.

The company hadn't told you any information about them yet, so you didn't even know how many or how old they were. Or what kind of music they made.

She led you down the hall from your office and pointed to the doors on the left.

"This is where the practice rooms are. We'll go to the studio first. That's where the leader of the group should be recording right now."

Restlessly, you tugged at your clothes. You wanted to make a good first impression and had even squeezed into a short pencil skirt and blouse especially for that.

Your hair was pinned up and you even wore a little lipstick. Before knocking on said door, she smiled encouragingly at you.

"I'm sure you'll get along just fine. After all, you're the same age. Sometimes the boys can be a little feisty, but don't let that intimidate you."

Before you could comprehend the words, she knocked and pushed the door open. Music rang out and filled the soundproofed room. The sound studio was simply furnished and smelled of aftershave and coffee.

Everywhere were clothes, empty cans and boxes with various contents. You saw the protein shakes and the high-end equipment right away. While the rest of the room was messy, the work area with the computers was kept meticulously clean. Otherwise the room was completely empty. Obviously women were rarely present here.

The music faded away and that's when Mrs. Kim began to speak, while you prepared yourself internally behind her.

"Sorry for the interruption, but I wanted to introduce you to your new personal manager. She will be in charge of planning, organizing and coordinating projects from now on."

You stepped out from behind the lady and your finely crafted words got stuck in your throat. Two equally shocked pairs of eyes looked back at you and you would have loved to look around for hidden cameras. This could only be a stupid prank.

"Miss Y/L/N?", the receptionist asked cautiously, glancing back and forth between you and the man at the desk.

There, indeed, sat the guy you had drunkenly made out with last night in the dark corner of a club. To make matters worse, the muscleman was sitting on the sofa behind him and had eyes as big as plates.

That's when the door to the recording room opened.

"Chan what's going on? Why are we interrupting...?“ The remaining words stuck in his throat and you looked into two very familiar eyes. The whole troupe was gathered and all you could do was stare at each other in complete perplexity.

Finally Changbin cleared his throat and snapped you all out of your freeze. Somehow you found your voice again and tried to look unconcerned.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Y/N."

Mrs. Kim gradually relaxed a bit, and you could only hope that she attributed you flushed cheeks to nervousness. Han was the first to move, indicating a little bow.

"Han Jisung," he murmured very confused.

"Changbin."

You nodded and pretended that you were hearing the names for the first time.

By now Chan had struggled himself out of his chair and was standing in front of you. Your eyes met and you both wanted to sink into the ground.

He opened the lips that had been pressed to yours just a few hours ago and you had to tense your entire face to keep from crying in shame.

"I'm Bang Chan. The leader of Stray Kids. I'm looking forward to working with you."

Stiffly, he extended his hand and you shook it with a forced smile. That big hand that had grabbed your ass and had made you desperate for more.

"What about the rest?", asked Mrs. Kim then.

Changbin looked up from the floor.

"Jeongin and Seungmin will be here later. Hyunjin and Lee Know are practicing the new choreography."

"Felix must be on his way", Han added, glancing at his phone.

You tried to memorize the names, even though you’d probably have to turn the job in again today. Chan sat back down and gave you several quick glances.

"All right. Let's say hello to the others then."

As you left the room, you dared to exhale and ran the back of your hand over your forehead. This was such a big coincidence that you were still hoping to just wake up. As soon as you entered the dance hall, you couldn't believe your eyes.

Two other young men around your age were standing in front of the mirrors, moving in sync to a song blaring loudly through the speakers. When the taller one noticed you, he nudged the other and ran to the cell phone to turn off the music.

Now that they were in front of you, you tried not to let out how surprised you were by their appearance. You must have gotten caught up in some badly written K-Drama. You couldn't explain the whole thing any other way.

One had dark brown hair held out of his face by a headband and facial features that reminded you of a perfectly sculpted statue. He was breathtakingly beautiful.

When the other gave you a tight smile, your heart leapt. His eyes sparkled like obsidian and he looked like a prince directly out of a fairy story. His longer black hair was tied back in a half ponytail and his full lips were a seductive pink. Both were sweaty and breathing heavily from their workouts, what made the situation in no way easier for you.

You were completely overwhelmed. How many outrageously handsome men were there in this band?

You hadn't even heard Mrs. Kim introduce you, so engrossed have you been in the sight of them.

"Y/N? That's a nice name", the blond said then, and you tried to smile confidently.

"I'm Hyunjin“, he said, bowing.

"Lee Know... Or just Minho“, the other added and you tried to look as unconcerned as possible.

"We won't bother you any longer. You'll still have time to get to know each other over the next few days. Unfortunately, I have to leave now too! Miss Y/L/N, you know your way around now."

"Yes, thank you, Mrs. Kim", you replied at the door, and just then she hurried away.

"Aren't you a little young to be a manager?"

You turned back to the two of them and brushed a strand of hair out of your forehead before answering Lee Know:

"Maybe that's exactly why I'm best suited for it. Or do you want an old conservative manager who has no idea about the current industry?“

Hyunjin raised his eyebrows in amusement. Just then, two other members of the band entered the room.

„I think, we‘re really lucky“, Minho chuckled and scanned you with his gaze from your hairline all the way down to your pumps.

The other two arrivals introduced themselves as Seungmin and Jeongin. They were the youngest of the group and Jeongin, the Maknae, was only four months younger than you. They too were unusually attractive and you still didn't quite understand what you have gotten yourself into.

After a curt conversation, you left the dance studio and hurried down the hall. You just wanted to lock yourself in your office to take a breath for a second.

You had no idea you would be working for such young and handsome men.

Your head was about to burst and you had a lot to get into before you could start thinking about this job. As if the day wasn't chaos enough, you ran right into someone just as they turned the corner.

With a breathless scream, you flailed your arms in the air and the boy in front of you widened his eyes just as startled. Panicked, you clawed at his shoulder and he pulled you back to your feet by the waist before you could take you both to the ground.

For a moment you just stared at him and he was also completely surprised.

Strands of silver hair fell into his eyes and you feared fainting if he continued to look at you like that. His plush lips opened, but no sound came out.

"I'm sorry", you stammered, but instead of yelling at you or being annoyed, his entire face began to glow as you bit your lower lip in embarrassment.

"No. It‘s my fault. I wasn't paying attention. Are you okay?", he asked and his deep voice making you fully lose your mind.

"Yes. I'm fine", you assured and looked down at his hand, which was still on your hip. When he followed the look, he quickly withdrew it as if he'd been burned. By now, even your ears were burning.

The freckles on his fair skin and the most radiant smile you had ever seen made any fluency of words disappear from your body.

"I've never seen you before. Are you new here? From a girl band?", he asked cautiously, running a hand through his hair.

"No, not from a band", you laughed shyly.

He really thought you could be part of one of those pretty girl-groups?

"Yes, I have my first day. I'm the personal manager of Stray Kids since today."

His eyebrows shot up and an amused chuckle escaped him.

"You're our new manager? Really?", he asked, his face lighting up with excitement.

Of course, the impossibly handsome guy in front of you with the prettiest smile and deepest voice you’ve ever heard, was also part of the band. How could it be otherwise?

Then his smile suddenly went out and he scratched the back of his head in embarrassment.

"I'm extremely rude. You probably have no idea who I am?"

You squinted your eyes apologetically and shook your head.

"I've only been in Korea for a few weeks... I worked mostly in America as a journalist before that. Because of that I‘m not really common with the K-Pop industry.“

It sounded like a justification and he dismissed that with a wave of his hand.

"No. I didn't mean it like that. That's a good thing! Actually very good. So you can get to know us. Entirely unbiased.“

That made you smile again. He was a real ray of sunshine and you could feel the warmth radiating from his mere presence.

"I'm Lee Felix. From Stray Kids", he introduced himself and bowed effusively. His Australian accent shined through and was even more adorable.

„Y/N Y/L/N“, you replied, and there he was smiling delightedly again.

"If today is your first day, I'm sure you have a lot to do. This can all be a bit much, really. If you need help with anything, just ask!"

He paused for a moment and then tilted his head a little.

"Do you have your phone with you?"

You pulled it out of your pocket and looked confused at him. He took it from your hand and typed in a number.

"I'll give you my number, and you can call me anytime."

Stunned by the kindness and trust, you took the phone again as he handed it to you and wanted to say something, but didn't know what.

Just then the door to Chan's studio opened and Han's face appeared in the crack.

"Yongbok! There you are at last. We've been waiting forever. Come on!“

Felix frowned and laughed lightly.

"I'm ten minutes early!" he returned, and Han began to grin.

"Just hurry!"

Felix sighed as soon as the door slid back into lock and looked at you apologetically.

"I won't keep you any longer from your work. Let me know if you need anything!"

"Thanks“, you said, returning his smile. He had taken away so much of the tension and you hadn't even noticed.

He said goodbye and walked down the hall. At the door of the studio, he stopped again.

"It's really nice that someone like you got the job."

Before you could ask what he meant by that, he disappeared into the room, leaving you wondering.

->Part 3

——————————————————————————-

© Yuna542 — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[dreamlessimp]

— homemade

summary: sae noticed you’ve been off, and tried to help

warnings: established itoshi sae x gn reader, fluff, ooc sae, food/ eating, 0.9k wc

“that’d be great sae.” you spoke into your phone, pleased after finally agreeing on a place for your date. you were stuck at work while sae was just about to get ready for practice from your home.

“i can do it tomorrow or next week.” he said after consulting his practice and game schedule.

“tomorrow then.” you decided.

“okay. when?”

“uh.” you thought for a few seconds. “maybe 18:00?”

wait—you had a meeting at 18:00. you glanced at the clock next to your desk: 17:57.

“that work-“

“sorry! meeting!” you yelled into your phone before quickly ending the call and leaving for the large meeting hall where you were expected to be in a couple minutes.

sae was left surprised, phone still in hand. “damn.” he said to no one in particular, before rolling his eyes to no one again, and leaving to change into his practice gear.

“i’m sorry, i don’t think i can make it.” you said apologetically to the man in front of you.

he shrugged. even if he was disappointed, he didn’t feel like making it a big deal. “why?”

your voice caught in your throat, not wanting him to know the extent of the stress you were facing at work. 

your group had been assigned a large assignment meant to be observed by a large person at your company, and somehow almost all of them had managed to escape its responsibilities.

only you and 2 others were able to work on it, and each passing day brought it further from completion.

“they’re giving us more work, and i’m drowning.” you gave a guilty smile. “sorry, maybe in a few weeks?” you managed to forget the extent of how observant your boyfriend is.

a few weeks was a long time of this, sae thought. one date was one thing but that long was way too much time for you to be under the stress you obviously thought you were good at hiding.

“be home early tonight, okay.”

“i’ll try.”

“whatever, early.

sae opened his computer as soon as you left the room. after a crude text to his manager, he was able to get in contact with your company. 

it took even more crude language, but sae was quickly able to learn of the large project placed upon you.

he admittedly had no way to help you with the project itself, but wanted to contribute in at least one way.

regretfully walking over to the kitchen you’d banned him from, he had one idea.

immediately upon walking through the door of your home, your were surprised to be hit with the smell of cooking vegetables. sae of all people was cooking?

you knew full well he enjoyed cooking about as much as talent he had when it came to it. so for him to be doing so, you didn’t know whether to feel honored or worried.

hanging up up your jacket and slipping off your shoes, you walked into the kitchen to see sae standing above the stovetop, large oven mitts worn over his hands. you scoffed, though endeared. 

“sae? you’re cooking?” you said upon walking closer.

“yeah.” he breathed a silent sigh of relief that you were home early.

you tilted your head in confusion. “why? you never cook. i’m surprised you even know how.”

“well.” he said slowly. “i don’t exactly know how.”

you laughed and took a peek at the stovetop. he was cooking an assortment of vegetables, and behind you was your rice maker. 

“go get changed. i’ll be done soon.” he said, still focused on not burning the food in front of him.

“yep. be right back.” you spoke before happily doing as requested, and changing from your work clothes into something more comfortable. 

soon, you walked back to see the kitchen empty, and relatively uncluttered.

you quickly deducted he had set the table, and walked over to where he turned out to be.

it wasn’t much, but you knew the minimal portions of rice, cooked vegetables, and soup probably took him longer then he’d care to admit—you were right. he was aware of his lacking skills and began early for fear of mistakes.

you took a seat and gave a thanks for the food. “what’s this all for?” you asked. “is it a special occasion or something?”

“no.”

“then what? is it because i had to cancel on our date?”

he shook his head. “no reason.” 

that was a lie. if you couldn’t go out on a date then this was the best way of decreasing your workload while still spending time together. sae was proud to feel that he did live up to his ‘genius’ title.

you meanwhile, had begun to feel even worse. sae had cooked for you, and you planned to run to your room and work again as soon as you finished.

“sorry i’ve been so flaky, you know how much work they’ve been giving us lately.” you said, lowering your head. “i know you’re busy.”

his voice was bored. “it’s not like i don’t do the same thing. i’ve ditched you too many times to be mad when you do the same.” he shrugged. “and you’re busy too.”

you smiled. “thanks, sae.”

he nodded. “i talked to your boss, by the way. the project will be done by tuesday.”

[suashii]

MEET THE PARENTS

info ⭑ mikage reo x reader ﾉ 0.9k wc ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ reference to reader's parents and family

note ⭑ happy holidays! i think this is my first time writing a solo piece for reo so hopefully it isn't too bad. thanks for reading! ❤︎‬

requested by @yuukimiyas for my winter wonderland event (closed)!

reo is a punctual man—he sticks to a schedule and considers his time valuable. so when he isn’t home on time after practice on the night that you’re hosting your family for dinner, you’re struck with worry. twenty minutes behind isn’t something you’d usually bat your eyes at but you will admit that it’s strange not getting a text or call explaining his absence on the occasion he’s been fretting about all week.

with dinner started on the stove, you wipe your hands on a dish towel before reaching for your phone to figure out what’s keeping reo from home. though, before you can find his contact, the photo you have saved with his name flashes on your screen as the device buzzes with an incoming call from him.

you press the green accept button, wasting no time starting your distressed interrogation. “where are you?”

there’s a laugh from his end of the line and you can hear the faraway honking of horns. his explanation comes easily, as though you should have expected it. “i swung by the florist to pick up a bouquet for your mom.”

reo’s answer doesn’t come as a surprise. in addition to being punctual, reo is chivalrous, too. ever since you told him that your family would be visiting for the holidays, he’s made it his personal mission to make sure that everything is in order—that he’d be leaving a good impression on the ones you love.

if the preparation he’s taken so far is evidence of anything, it’s that he truly has nothing to worry about. maybe you’re a little bit biased, but how could anyone not like reo?

“you know, typically guests bring gifts for the hosts—not the other way around.” the urgency has faded from your voice upon learning the reason behind his not being here, traded in for a more relaxed tone, one with a playful edge.

“no way,” he starts, and you can practically hear the frown in his voice, “it’s their first time at our place and meeting me. i’ve gotta do this right.”

between his actions and his words, it’s clear that reo is taking the one opportunity he has with this first meeting seriously. it’s flattering to see that he cares so much, that he wants those closest to you to like him even a fraction of the way you do. your heart feels like it’s floating in your chest knowing that reo is doing all of this for your sake.

“understood.” you smile with your declaration. “anyways, did you call for something?”

“right, did you need me to pick anything up while i’m out?”

“nope,” you shake your head even though he can’t see you, “just get home safe.”

“sure thing, love you.”

it isn’t long before you hear reo’s key unlocking your front door and his house slippers shuffling down the hallway and into the kitchen. a purple head of hair greets you in the doorway accompanied by pops of red and white from the flower bouquet he’s holding. his violet eyes light up when you turn to meet his gaze and welcome him home.

“hey.” you offer him a wave from the stove before your eyes fall to the flower arrangement in his grasp. “those are pretty.”

he examines them closely, like you’re sure he did while the florist was putting the bouquet together and after he received the flowers. “you think she’ll like them?”

you hum and nod, a smile tugging at your lips upon seeing the relief that colors his face with your approval. he sets the paper-wrapped bouquet on an unoccupied space of the kitchen island before rubbing his hands together and looking to you for direction.

“what can i do?”

there’s an unspoken rule that reo doesn’t cook on special occasions. he can admit that it’s a skill he has yet to master and that the meals of guests are better left out of his hands. with this in mind, you jerk your head toward the cabinets that hold your plates and silverware. “wanna set the table?”

“i can do that,” he agrees.

while you finish up dinner, reo goes between the kitchen and dining room, neatly arranging the dishes on the festive tablecloth you had set out earlier. he kisses you with each trip he makes, first on your forehead, then your nose, and when he’s back in the kitchen for good, he plants one of your lips. the taste of familiar, minty like the gum he chews with a hint of cucumber from his chapstick. 

you’re starting to get the feeling that his nerves are calming, that the perfectionist in him is mellowing, but his next question is proof that he’s still a little anxious about the events to come. “do your parents prefer red or white wine?”

you shrug. it’s been a while since you’ve had a meal with them and even then you can’t say that you paid much attention to what they were drinking. “i’m sure they’ll enjoy either.”

he opens his mouth to protest but you shush him by pressing a finger to his lips.

“reo, relax.” you hook your arms under his to rub soothing circles on his shoulder blades. he takes your advice, taking a deep breath in through his nose and letting it leave through his mouth. your lips pull up into a grin as you feel his muscles ease, the tension seeping from his body. “they’re going to love you.”

he nods, a small smile of his own appearing with your reassurance.

only a moment later, the ring of your doorbell sounds throughout the house. you meet reo’s gaze with an encouraging sparkle in your eyes. “it’s go time.”