#which was their first year in juniors but they were nudged into it by their coaches who knew they needed more difficult competition | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

horangare · 1 year

Text

lucky girl

pairing : model!jeonghan x fem!reader

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

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

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

wc : 14.9K words

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

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

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

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

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

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

All of them except for him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, new girl.”

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

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

“No.” You deadpanned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Promise?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m the waitress, I can’t just—”

“Sit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jeonghan grinned, visibly pleased with your response.

“I knew I could count on you.”

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

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

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

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

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

I’m picking you up at 7:45.

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

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

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

“For you, maybe.”

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

So this would be an everyday thing. Great.

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll be in the car.”

So, about the visit to the gym…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now you really couldn’t go back.

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

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

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

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

“I guess it has.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell. Me. Everything.”

“Uh…”

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

You really hoped so.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jeonghan.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Coming!”

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

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

good night [y/n] sleep thigh

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut me up then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

His heart was beating just as fast as yours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One promise kept, another one broken.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The air suddenly felt a lot thicker.

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

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

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

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

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

You’ve just come to two realizations.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you miss me, Hannie?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He really remembered that?

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

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

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

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

“You love me.”

Oh, if only he knew.

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

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

“The fucking press is still out here?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you nervous?”

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

“You’ll be fine. I promise.”

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

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

“Not like I have a choice.”

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

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

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

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

“Mom, please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You paused. Were you getting jealous?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re so lovely, [Y/n].”

“Isn’t she just a dear?”

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

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

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

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

“[Y/n]?”

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

“Why are you crying?”

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

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

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

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

His silence was painful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“[Y/n]—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s a shame he couldn’t keep it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want to apologize to you.”

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

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

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

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

“I’m still upset with you.”

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

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

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

“…But what?”

His cheeks were growing pinker by the second.

“But what, Jeonghan?”

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

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

You breathed out a laugh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Hannie, please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just for you.”

He seemed pleased with that. “Better be.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well then hurry up and fuck me already.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know, baby. I’m almost there.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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taeghi · 10 months

Text

Tides of Regret by lee heeseung | (m)

♫ song : swim by chase atlantic

pairing : fwb!heeseung x reader + zb1 sung hanbin x reader

summary : being magnetically attracted to frat boy lee heeseung was a bad mistake. but, agreeing to be friends with benefits with him was an even worse one. getting caught in a relentless, toxic cycle together leads to facing the consequences of your choices with a grand moment of truth. will you be able to break free from the destructive tide, or will you remain trapped in the undertow of toxic love?

warnings : squirting lol, daddy kink, slapping, choking + more :D

word count : 22.5k

part of the enhypen playlist series

minors do NOT interact

taglist : @ipoststuffandyeah @ariadores @ramenoil @fluerz @skzenhalove @kgneptun

If there was one thing that you liked to do, it was party. You liked dancing, listening to, most of the time, shit music and hanging out with your friends. A good, any kind of party could always lift your mood. But, if there was one party you’d always try to avoid– it was frat parties. Especially the ones that were hosted at Lee Heeseung’s so-called notorious fraternity house.

Lee Heeseung and the rest of the frat he belonged to were the embodiment of the classic frayboy archetype. And they didn’t have the best reputation. They were the self-proclaimed rulers of campus who liked to party way too much and break many hearts, especially the hearts of freshmen’s.

So, you were understandably less than thrilled when Dayeon and Shana insisted we pay a visit to their den of debauchery this Friday night.

Everyone who belonged in the frat were bad, but Lee Heeseung was definitely the most popular and the worst. He was all you heard about during the your freshmen year as all your friends were trying, or had hooked up with him. Now during your junior year, you hear about a new Lee Heeseung escapade at least once a week from either your friend, or overhearing it from some crying freshman in the library.

Heeseung did not care about or who he hooked up with. As long as they were alive and had tits, he was into it. And although he had a long reputation about being a womanizer, he also had a reputation of being amazing at sex.

Mixed along with all the broken-hearted-tears shed, there were constant rumours being spread about how easily he could make a girl cum. Which is a rare occurence with college frat boys. But everyone knew, that if you wanted to cum, go to Lee Heeseung.

He intrigued you during the first half of your freshman year, the idea that a sophomore could make any girl cum. You fed into the rumours about his sex life, and all the kinks the fratboy allegedly took fancy of. One of those kinks being a daddy kink. Yes, a cliche one, but now, three years later, and it seems to be the only kink of his that everyone is aware of. Even your wide-eyed, almost innocent freshman friends come up to you and ask if it is true that the senior, Lee Heeseung has a daddy kink.

You don’t know if it’s true, and you don’t want to know. You make an effort to stay away from the frat house of womanizing, except for tonight.

“Y/n, you’ve gotta give this party a chance,” Dayeon says when she hears you sigh from your bed again. “I heard they’ve got an actual, killer DJ lined up for tonight!”

You roll your eyes at your friend’s attempt to persuade you to want to enjoy the frat party tonight. “I don’t care about the DJ.”

“Right, you just care about the guys who hired the DJ.” Shana smirks from her reflection in the mirror as she finishes her makeup.

You roll over onto your stomach to look at your friend in the mirror, “I do not care about those awful frat boys, I care about the drama that seems to always follow them around. Drama, that is just not worth it.”

Shana rolls her eyes playfully, starting to fix her black hair for the night.

“Don’t be such a party pooper,” Dayeon nudges your leg with hers, “We’ll stick together, and if Heeseung or any of the other frat guys try anything, I’ll smack them with my feminism 101 textbook.”

You chuckle, appreciating Dayeon, “Fine, I’ll go and attempt to have fun. But if Heeseung or any of his minions come near me, I’m unleashing you, D.”

With a grin, Dayeon jumps ontop of you, squeezing you into a bone-crushing hug. “Deal, this is gonna be a night to remember!”

The three of you show up the Enha Tau fraternity house, you already wanted to leave. Of course, it was the loudest house on the block, with the music and cheers being able to be heard from streets away. The root of the cheap beer and sweat scent seemed to be in this house.

The house was a sprawling two-story structure with large windows that flashing, neon lights were shooting out of and filling up the street and sky. The laughter and cheers that were coming from inside signaled that the party was in full swing.

Shana oozed femininity in her pretty black dress that showcased her hourglass figure and matched her big doe eyes and full lips. Dayeon was dressed to make a statement like usual, her aura was one to not be fucked with as she was fierce and independent. You were sandwiched between them, feeling out of place in your oversized white blouse and black skirt, in the freezing night air. Together, you walked into the house, each one of your with very contrasting styles that reflected your contrasting personalities.

An hour into the party, and the three of you have gotten immediately swept up in the lively atmosphere. Music throbbed through the overly crowded rooms, and the air was thick of alcohol, sweat and shit cologne. You tried your best to enjoy yourself, as you sipped on some wannabe fruity, vodka-laden drink.

You were leaned against the fake fireplace wall, taking occasional sips of the drink. This was a far cry from what you were usually like at a party. But despite the energetic scene around you, you couldn’t shake the persistent feeling that something was off about this party. The laughter and chatter blurred into an annoying symphony, and even the faux warmth of the fireplace couldn’t calm your chilled nerves. You knew that the only thing you wanted right now was the comfort of your own bed, but you couldn’t ditch Shana and Dayeon this early. So, you opted to stay at the wall and keep an eye out for them.

Shana was the center of attention as always as she was surrounded by her giggly, cheerleading friends. Their faces painted with excitement as they vied for her attention. You watched as a cluster of guys were slowly, but surely making their way towards them to strike up a conversation. Which you knew would be useless since Shana would turn all of them done with her unmatched grace.

Dayeon was not that far away from Shana in the living room, engaging in some passionate conversation with a group fo people you didn’t recognize. But you were sure that one of them was Sung Hanbin, staring at Dayeon with a smirk that you didn’t understand. This wasn’t his frat, so you wondered why he was here and not at his own frat’s party. You lost interest in watching him engage with Dayeon’s group when he looked over and winked right at you.

You start to move away from Hanbin’s eyes and head to the kitchen to find something else than that colourful, awful fruit drink. The more you moved to the kitchen, the more the music and laughter muffled, creating a temporary reprieve from the chaos. The kitchen was swarmed with intoxicated college students, their voices slurring with their laughter as they looked for their next alcoholic drink. You stood near the table against the kitchen’s doorway, waiting for your turn and scanning the drink options from a far to find something more to your taste.

You mentally decide on whatever the orange liquid is in the bowl that the drunk people seem to be getting more and more of, when a voice pierced through their slurred conversation, catching your attention.

“What the fuck, get that asshole out of here, I do not want Hanbin here.”

You’re about to turn your head to see the source of the confrontation, but your curiosity is cut short when a sudden, frigid splash of that wannabe fruit, vodka dense drink engulfs you. Your entire blouse drenched with liquid and the white fabric replaced with colour. Some laughter erupted from the drunk, kitchen bystanders, but you didn’t pay them any attention, instead you focused on the figure standing before you.

In the dimly lit kitchen, it only took you a second to recognize your shirt’s perpetrator as Lee Heeseung. The notorious frat president that you had been hoping to avoid all night, now stood inches before you. His now empty cup, slowly dripped the remnants of vodka and his smug expression held a hint of mockery and shock as he looked down at you.

You were stunned and unable to conceal your irritation as you locked eyes with Heeseung, who could only stare at your shirt. When you look down at the damage, your irritation fades to embarrassment as your pink lacey bra is on full sight as your white blouse is now see through from the drink.

“Fuck.” you gasp, your arms coming up to cover your chest. Heeseung’s amused smirk remained as he surveyed the mess he had created, a small chuckle escaping his lips as he looks at your face of horror. “This isn’t funny, Heeseung.”

“Aw, c’mon, it’s just a shirt,” he says, his tone light, “Besides, I think it looks better this way.”

Your irritation and scowl grew bigger, “I can’t believe you just said that, fuck you.”

Heeseung’s smirk doesn’t waver at your words, “Okay, okay, I get it. My bad,” he said, offering a shrug, “But don’t worry, I’ll give you a new shirt that you can borrow.”

His casual offer took you by surprise in your current, evident discomfort, “Fine.”

Heeseung smiled, his eyes dancing with mischief, “Okay, come upstairs with me to get one.”

You hesitated for a moment before saying, “No!”

Heeseung quirked an eyebrow up at you, “What? You wanna change in the kitchen?”

You roll your eyes, “Fine, I'll come upstairs, but I’m not having sex with you.”

Heeseung laughs heartily, “Relax, we’re just getting you a new shirt, right?”

“Right.”

As you make your way upstairs, you made note to not grab his hand like all the other people going upstairs together. Your steps are deliberate and your expression was a mix of annoyance and determination. You couldn’t quite put your finger on why you’d agreed to his offer except to avoid more humiliation.

Heeseung’s room was a typical representation of a college frat boys living space, no surprises. It was chaos with clothes thrown across the floor, empty bottles every where and textbooks and papers spread all over what looks to be a desk. The posters of sport teams and bands was the only sense of familiarity in the room.

As Heeseung rummaged through his drawers that barely closed, searching for a suitable shirt to give you, your eyes inadvertently landed on a pair of women’s underwear on the floor. You quickly averted your eyes, disgust filling you more as you took in your surrounding.

With a shirt in hand, Heeseung turns toward you, who tells you to change in the bathroom that’s connected to his room. You close the door, leaving it slightly ajar as you turn away from it. You hear Heeseung sit on his bed as he waits for you. He has to physically force himself to look away from his bathroom door where he could see your reflection in the mirror, the hint of your stomach being shown as you start to lift your wet shirt off. He stares at his Red Sox poster instead.

“You’re Angel, right?” his voice asked as you wipe the stickiness off of your chest.

“Yeah,” you replied, your tone guarded. You glanced at his busy reflection in the mirror, moving to the side so you’re hidden away from his sight.

“You’re friends with Shana and Dayeon, right?” he asked, his voice carrying a hint of recognition.

You roll your eyes, your exasperation with the situation evident in your response, “Yeah, I am.” The connection to your vivacious friends was clearly the point of reference for him, something that only added to your frustration.

When you come out of his bathroom, his shirt way too big for you and tucked into one side of your skirt, Heeseung feels light headed. He has never, ever given his clothes to a girl before, and he definitely didn’t think it would have this much of an effect on him. The way his shirt fits him perfectly, but has you swimming it makes his cock twitch, but he snaps back into reality and focuses on your scowl instead.

“I’ll give you the shirt back next week,” you tell him with a serious tone as you make your way towards the bedroom door.

“Nah, it’s fine, you can keep it.” he tells you with a shrug.

“I do not want to keep your shirt, Heeseung.” you tell him with a tone of disgust.

“Fine, fine, whatever.” Heeseung replies, he lets his back hit his mattress as his feet remain on the floor.

You roll your eyes and continue to leave, stopping with your hand on the door handle with a sigh, “But, thanks, for letting me borrow it.”

Heeseung sits up on his elbows, “No problem, sorry for ruining your other one.”

Without another word, you open the door and leave. You pull out your phone and text your friends that you’re leaving in five minutes and to meet at the front door if they want to come with you.

When you finally get to the front door through the large crowd of people, Shana and Dayeon are there waiting for you.

Through her glazed eyes and slurred voice Shana asks, “Whose shirt is that?”

“Don’t ask.” you reply briefly, trying to ignore Heeseung’s cologne, and head straight through the front door, ignoring Dayeon’s and Shana’s confused expressions as they follow you.

You successfully dodged your friends questions about the shirt all weekend. And this morning you stuffed the shirt in your bag before they could see and headed straight to where you knew Heeseung and his friends usually hung out at school.

Thankfully, you found him quickly so you wouldn’t have to worry about it for the rest of the day. He was standing against the wall, his backpack slung around one shoulder as he talked with his friends. His back was towards you so he didn’t see you coming, but one of his friends nodded towards you to get his attention.

“Hey, Y/n,” Heeseung greets when he turns to see you.

“Hey, here’s your shirt back,” you hand him his folded shirt.

“Thanks, but you really could’ve kept it,”

You want to reply that you’d never want another one of his shirts again but one of his friends, Choi Beomgyu you think, speaks up.

“Ouu, did you and Heeseung have fun up in his room the other night.” Beomgyu wiggles his eyebrows with his words.

Your eyes narrowed, your frustration bubbling up again, “No, we did not.” you snap at the group who all have teasing eyes.

Another one, Song Eunseok pipes up with an exaggerated smirk, “Oh, come on Y/n. Heeseung’s not usually the type to hand out spare shirts.”

Your anger flared up and you couldn’t take it anymore. “I don’t care what you think. You don’t know anything about what happened that night, so just shut up.”

You turn on your heel and storm of, leaving Heeseung with a sense of guilt gnawing at him. He wanted to speak, to help you, but he couldn’t help but keep quiet amongst his friends. As you disappeared around the corner, his smile faltered, and he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of remorse for the way his friends had teased you.

Throughout the week, you had tried your best to bury the memories of Lee Heeseung, his friends and the frustration that came with them. You needed focus on your studies and yourself, but you could not get rid of the residual annoyance that seemed to cling to your mind.

You had been looking forward to this weekend, anticipating an actual good party to help relieve your stress and temporarily escape the unease the had plagued you last weekend. On Friday evening, you and Dayeon had started getting ready to head over to your friends’ party. The whole time you knew your aim was to let loose and forget all complications of your college life.

Just as you were finishing up, Dayeon’s phone rang. You watched her confusedly glance at the caller ID before she showed it you.

Wonyoung

Answer?

Wonyoung was on the cheerleading team with Shana and was friends with her, so you were confused as t why she would be called Dayeon.

Dayeon answers with a quick, ‘Hello’, and you watch as her face contorts into concern as she continues to listen to the other line. When she hangs up she turns to you with a disappointed face.

“What?” you ask her.

“Shana’s really drunk, and she needs someone to come pick her up.”

With a heavy sigh you nod, “Alright, let’s go get her. Where is she?”

Dayeon nervously chuckles, “Uh, yeah, she’s uh, at Enha Tau.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Really? She has to be there, of all places?” Dayeon nods her head, “Let’s go get her, as quick as possible.”

The two of you left your party plans behind, exchanging irritation and concern for their friend as they headed to the awful frat house. You couldn’t believe you were returning to the palace that had caused you so much annoyance, but you knew that Shana needed you. Friends come first, even if it meant dealing with Lee Heeseung.

Dayeon and you both split up when you arrived at the large frat house, thinking that it would be faster to find your friend if you took different sides of the mansion. The house was filled with college students like the week before, all dancing, listening to music and drinking. You had to weave in and out of the crowed, while searching for a familiar head of black hair.

“Well, well, well, back for some more fun, Y/n?” a voice asks you as you head into the kitchen to look for Shana.

You turn at the sound of your name and stop when you realize it’s Heeseung talking to you. “God, no. I’m just looking for Shana and then I’m leaving.”

Heeseung pouts as he looks around into the living room, “I haven’t seen her all night.”

You scoff, “Thanks, see ya.” you turn on your heel, but his voice stops you again.

“Y/n, wait,” he speaks, and when he sees that you do he continues, “Why’re you always so irritated with me?”

His question takes you aback, your frustration simmering just beneath the surface, “Because I don’t want to be titled as another one of your whores.” you retort, your words laced with bitterness.

It’s Heeseung’s turn to scoff as he juts out his hand and latches onto your arm, he ignores your complaints as he drags you over to a quiet hallway attached to the kitchen. He lets go of your arm when it’s silent, your back against the wall as he stands in front of you.

“You can’t be seen with me without being called a whore?”

“What?” you ask, “Don’t act like you aren’t aware of your whole fuckboy reputation.”

Heeseung’s eyes hold amusement as they lock with your own, “Okay, I like to have sex, what’s wrong with that?”

“N-nothing.” you stutter pathetically.

Heeseung smirks and moves closer to you, “You won’t be called one of my whores Y/n, you’re so different from them.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I could treat you so much better than any of them, if you’d let me.” Heeseung ducks his head down so it’s level with your own. His body is only inches away from you now, “Would you let me, Y/n?”

You gulp as your thoughts start to race. Heeseung’s charm was undeniable as his smirk never wavered as he watched you take in his words. This seductive game he started was ending quick and he was winning.

“Why would I let you if I could get fucked better by someone else?” your voice comes out softer than your words are and it makes Heeseung laugh.

“No one could fuck you as good as me, Y/n, and you know that, you’ve heard that.”

You roll your eyes at his cockiness, “Yeah, sure, and I’ve also heard about your daddy kink.”

You can’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth, but Heeseung only bites his lip to hide his smile, “Yeah? And what about you, Y/n? Do you have a daddy kink?”

You gulp again, confused on how you’ve even ended up in this situation so quickly. You know you should be looking for Shana but Lee Heeseung has you trapped against his body and the wall and your panties feel like they’re starting ot stick to your core.

Your lack of a response makes Heeseung smirk, “C’mon Y/n, let me show you how good I can make you feel. Let me prove it to you.”

Heeseung starts to move his head in closer, you can practically feel his lips ontop of yours, feel his warmth all over your front as your back feels the cool wall. You give in and move your up to meet his, but he moves his away, tsking at you.

“Tell daddy that you’ll be a good girl and let him make you feel good. Tell him you want this.”

His voice makes your knees buckle. The fact that he’s referring to himself as daddy makes you want to have him right here, right now in this closed off hallway.

“I want you to make me feel good, I want this.” your voice comes out in a whisper as you confess to him.

A harsh slap lands on your left thigh from his hand, making you yelp out.

“Who do you want to make you feel good?”

You gulp as you say, “Daddy.”

Heeseung’s hand covers your throat as he speaks, “Good girl.”

Heeseung smashes his lips onto yours. A whirlwind of conflicting emotions coursed through you. The kiss held so much desire, yet you knew you shouldn’t be doing it. But as your mouths moved in an intoxicating rhythm, a push and pull of sexual attraction only made you want to continue. You lost yourself in the kiss, well aware of the potential consequences that can occur as you finally succumb to the charms of Lee Heeseung.

Heeseung was quick to pull you up into his room that you were in for the first time last week. This time, as you walked up the stairs, you held his hand as you allowed him to lead you.

Heeseung didn’t hesitate to lay you down on his bed, your back against his mattress and hair sprawled out across his white pillowcase. His hands roamed your sides as you continued to makeout. Your hands latched onto the hair of the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you.

Though, he wasn’t so close for long as he pulled back, his lips wet and swollen that probably matched your own.

“Are you sure you want this, Y/n?” he asks you as he looks into your eyes.

“Yes, daddy.” it startles you for a second of how quick you are to respond.

Heeseung bites his lips at your reply, but his tone is serious when he speaks, “No, really, you want this? Because, just tell me to stop and I will.”

You let your hands drop from his shoulders and squeeze his hand that’s resting on your hip, “I want this, Heeseung, really.”

Heeseung smiles softly at you, “Okay,” and he leans in to press a long, less lustful kiss onto your lips. When he pulls away, his usual smirk and devious gleam in his eyes are back, “Now be a good girl for daddy, yeah?’

“Yes, daddy.” you tell him, loving the affect you have on him everytime the word slips from your mouth.

“Daddy wants to show you how good he can make you feel, show you no one else can make you feel as good as I can.” he speaks inbetween words as he presses kisses down your jaw and neck. “Think you can handle that?”

“Please, daddy,” You begged, anticipating what you’ve only ever heard of from other people. Anticipating if Lee Heeseung was really as good as they say. And so far, you believed it.

His warm hands started to pull down the thin straps of your dress, the fabric releasing and allowing your tits to be freed to his eyes. Your pink nipple perked up immediately as his index and thumb twisted around it. You let out a soft moan at the feeling, your hips bucking up into his from such a small movement.

Heeseung chuckled as he spoke, “That feel good, already?” You nodded in response, wanting to feel more of it. Suddenly the twisting pleasure was removed by a sharp slap on your nipple instead, a gasp leaving your mouth as your back arched up. “Use your words, baby.”

“Y-yes, daddy. That felt good, daddy,” you nodded up at him as your body ached for more of him.

Heeseung hums against your other nipple in response. Sucking it into his mouth and circling it with his warm tongue. His hands pushed your dress lower down your body, leaving you bare except for your panties.

Heeseung’s hands continue their descent as his fingers push your panties aside. He doesn’t hesitate ot slip his middle finger inbetween your wet folds. You whine, your fingers tightening their hold onto his sheets as he starts to find a pace to finger fuck you.

“Fuck, who’re you so wet for baby, hm?” Heeseung asks you, his voice sultry as his eyes move from where his fingers diapppear inside of you to your face.

“You daddy, so wet and messy just for you,” you tell him honestly.

Heeseung obviously likes your response as he slips in his index finger as well. Both of his fingers start to work inside your mesh walls, finding your g spot so quickly. You let out a moan of pleasure and relief. You’ve never had a guy finger you so well before, usually you just have to fake it or deal with it until they’re bored. But, looking down at Heeseung, he genuinely looks like he loves fingering you. He’s so obviously paying attention to what makes you moan and squirm, and god, he’s already gotten you so close to the edge.

“You can cum for me, baby.” Heeseung reads your mind, your body. His lips press deep kisses onto your lower abdomen, biting and sucking the area as his fingers don’t slow down their pace. “Cum all over my fingers, show me what a good girl you can be for daddy.”

With the final referral of himself as daddy, your body is sent into a climax you oh, so needed. Your body arched upwards off of his mattress, your fingers twist in his sheets as you try to ground yourself as the pleasure takes over you. You could hear Heeseung encouraging you, praising you in a blur of your climax.

When you came down, panting and shocked that a man could make you cum so fast and good on hisi fingers, Heeseung could only laugh into your skin. You let him slip of your soaked panties as you tried to calm your breathing.

“Didn’t I tell you I could make you feel good, why do you look so shocked?” Heeseung asks you, spreading your legs so your wet core is open to his eyes.

“I just, wasn’t expecting it to be that good.” you reply maybe too honestly, but it doesn’t bother Heeseung. His focus is on the pink mess in front of him.

It’s then that you realize how much you like being naked in front of him while he’s still fully clothed. It’s a feeling you can’t describe, but allow yourself to rest in.

Without a warning, Heeseung licks a wide strip up your wet core. You cry out his name, surprised from the intrusion and sudden pleasure. He continues to lick up your folds, circling your clit everytime. He keeps his hands on your thighs to stop them from closing around his head.

His lips suck all over your core, making sure to reach every part of you that makes you scream. You’re still sensitive from your last orgasm that this one feels like it’s coming even faster. The sight inbetween your legs is almost nauseating from how much it’s turning you on.

Heeseung seems pussy drunk on you, his eyes closed as he focuses on your taste, your pleasure and your moans of encouragement. You’ve never felt so much pleasure from someone’s tongue, and Heeseung seems to know exactly what he is doing. His tongue starts to dart into your hole, making you cry out his name. Your hand reaching for his hair to poull him closer into your core.

“Fuck, daddy! Please!” you cry out, eyes shut from the pleasure threatening to abrupt.

“You gonna cum on daddy’s tongue?” he mumbles into your core, his lips never completely leaving your body.

“S-so close, please,” you continue to beg, not wanting him to stop.

“Cum on daddy’s tongue, you can do it.” he tells you, before sucking your clit directly into his mouth.

With his permission, you let the coil in your stomach finally snap. Your legs threaten to close, but Heeseung doesn’t let them. He continues to lick your pussy until you’ve come down from your high. You had to push his head away from how sensitive you were.

When Heeseung lifts his head up, his lower half of his face is shiny and wet from your juices. He watches you try to catch your breath as you lay back completely on his bed. He likes being able to tell just how good you’re feeling. How good he’s making you feel.

“You really taste so good, baby.” he speaks, moving up the bed to be over top of you. You feel your cheeks redden as you look up at him. He grabs your chin in between his fingers and thumb, locking your face still. “Open your mouth.” You do as he says, sticking your tongue out, too. Heeseung purses his lips before he lets a glob of spit drip from his mouth, directly into yorus. You can’t help but moan at the action as you close your mouth and swallow it. There’s a hint of the taste of yourself mixed with his. “Good girl.”

Heeseung and you makeout softly then. Taking in each other and building up the tension again as you moan and whine into each other’s mouths.

“Think you can take one more?” Heeseung asks you when he pulls away.

“Yes, daddy.” you reply obedietnly. Heeseung smiles and leans down to press a kiss onto your shoulder.

Heeseung stands up off his bed briefly, and tugs down his bottoms, his hard dick popping out. It made your jaw drop at the sight. The tip red and dripping, and the veins protruding up and down the shaft. You wanted it so badly. You watch him slip on a condom from his bed side drawer.

He kneels back onto his mattress and lifts your legs up so you’re knees are bent towards you. He holds your ankle with one hand as he guides his cock into your hole with the other. It slips in so easily since it’s soaked with your juices and his spit. Both of you groan out as he sinks in slowly. Heeseung’s eyes roll to the back of his head as your pussy engulfs him.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” he groans out, eyebrows furrowed as he rests inside of you.

“You feel so good, daddy.” you tell him honestly, feeling like his dick was in your stomach. Heeseung grunts at your words, bringing his other hand to grip your waist.

Slowly, Heeseung starts to pump in and out of you. Both of you hissing at the feeling. It felt so good, so full, so wet. You genuinely don’t know the last time you’ve ever felt this good, so sensitive.

“Faster,” you speak up, wanting even more.

You’re responded with a slap on your clit, making you jolt forward with a cry.

“Use your manners,” Heeseung’s words are sharp at you.

“Go faster please, daddy,” you tell him, hoping he obeys yours words.

Suddenly, Heeseung starts pounding into you at an extremely fast pace. He grips your legs tight as he pushes them towards your chest. You’re completely folded for him to be able to reach your g spot with every thrust. His bedroom is filled with wet squelches as he fucks into you so fast. You feel him deep in your stomach now, and you can’t help but release screams of pleasure, not caring if the people downstairs can hear you.

“Like this, baby? You like it when daddy fucks you like this?” Heeseung grunts out through grated teeth as the pleasure is also affecting him.

“D-addy! I’m gonna cum!” You cry out, your core so sensitive from the two earlier orgasms.

“Do it. Do it, cum all over daddy’s cock.” he encourages you, wants you to do it.

He speeds up his movements even more. Both of you feel your walls tighten around him more before you’re releasing all over his cock, his abdomen and his sheets. You feel droplets of your release land on your thighs, your core even more wet as Heeseung keeps thrusting through your high.

“Fuck!” Heeseung lets out, watching your pussy squirt all over him. He can’t stop himself from hitting his climax. He releases his white cum into the condom, grunting out your name and praises as he does so. You can only repeat his name over and over again as you feel your body start to go numb from the pleasure.

Both of you still with him deep inside of you, both of you catching your breaths. You’re both sweaty and tired, but feel so so good.

With a grunt, Heeseung pulls out of you slowly, and throws the used condom in a trash can near his bed. You suddenly feel so naked next to him and wrap his sheets around your body. Heeseung sits on the bed next to you, with his boxers and shirt on.

When he glances over his shoulder at you, a grin is on his face, “Fuck,” he nods at you.

You can’t help but smile back, “That was…-” you start to say but he finishes.

“The best sex I’ve ever had in my life.”

“Yeah, exactly,” you tell him as you sit up, keeping the sheet wrapped around your bare chest.

Both of you laugh as you take in what just happened. Neither of you had ever felt so fucking good in your entire lives. Both of you looked crazy with your messed up hair and sweat droplets down your faces.

“I can’t believe you squirted,” Heeseung laughs out into his room, the music from downstairs being able to be heard again.

“Dude, me neither,” you tell him honestly, “I’ve never done that before. I didn’t even know I could do that,”

Heeseung shrugs as he lays down on his bed, “I told you I could fuck you good, believe me now?”

You roll your eyes at him, looking for where he had thrown your dress earlier, “Yeah, whatever.” You stand up, grabbing your dress and starting to unroll it so you can rewear it. Heeseung stays laying down, watching you dress. You avoid eye contact with him as you do so, the bedroom coming tense.

You glance into his mirror, trying to brush down your as you prepare to go find Dayeon and Shana- shit, Dayeon and Shana.

“Hey, uh Y/n,” Heeseung calls to you.

“Yeah?” You turn to look at his figure.

With your attention, Heeseung sits up, “Maybe, since it was so good, we should do that again, some time,”

Your jaw wants to drop at his words but you keep it glued. Lee Heeseung never fucks the same girl twice, and if he does it’s because the girl is relentless or he was drunk. But an open invitation by he, himself, you couldn’t believe it.

“Like? When?” you ask him confused.

“Whenever. When either of us wants a fuck we can hit each other up,”

“Like, friends with benefits?” you suggest and tilt your head.

Heeseung thinks for a second, “Yeah, sure,”

You scoff with a smile, “Sure,” you toss him your phone before going back to his mirror to fix your appearance and look less like you just had amazing sex.

Heeseung types his phone number into your phone and then texts himself to get yours before he hands it back to you. “Here,” you take it from him and put your hand on the doorknob to leave, “I’m serious, though, whenever you want, whenever we’re both free,”

You nod, “Whenever you want,” you echo back.

“Deal?” Heeseung reaches his hand forward to shake.

“Deal.” Your hands meet, and then suddenly you’re in a friends with benefits contract with Lee Heeseung. The frat president you had always tried to avoid. The frat boy that made you so frustrated and annoyed and humiliated. The frat boy that made you scream so loud from pleasure, the one that made you feel like you never had before. So, maybe this won’t all be disastrous.

When you’re about to leave Heeseung calls your name again, stopping you, “Just so we’re clear, sex is the only thing I can give you– nothing else.”

His words make a sly smile spread on your face, “Heeseung, don’t worry, I am not going to fall in love with you,”

Heeseung rolls his eyes, “Bye Y/n,”

You leave his room and wonder what the hell you’re going to tell Dayeon and Shana.

Luckily, Dayeon and drunk Shana didn’t spend too much time waiting around for you, and they didn’t ask too many questions about where you had gone. Dayeon was too focused on helping Shana get home and into bed to wonder about where you had disappeared to. You helped Shana while thinking about how you were going to hide your friends-with-benefits deal with Heeseung.

You couldn’t tell your friends about what you had done with Heeseung. You had gone on too many rants about frat houses and frat boys, and how you wished they weren’t a thing. The three of you had all had many interesting conversations about why Lee Heeseung was the wrost grat boy, after seeing so many freshman and other girls cry. Even some of your mutual friends and acquaintaces have cried to the three of you about Lee Heeseung.

But you told yourself that you would not cry over the frat president. You would not be like any of the other girls who have shared their heartbroken stories with you and your friends. So, there was no reason to tell your friends. They wouldn’t need to worry about you or a broken heart if there was not going to be a broken heart.

Just as long as your friends don’t find out, everything should be fine. You’re gonna get amazing sex, is it really that big of a deal that it’s with Lee Heeseung?

Okay, maybe.

But what your friends don’t know, won’t hurt them.

The three of you were sat in your college’s cafeteria for lunch. It was busy and loud, but you had nothing else to do before your next class. You talked about what happened on the weekend and other campus gossip that you’ve heard. You tried to engage with your friends normally, but you struggle when you know Heeseung is sitting across the room from you.

Heeseung and his friends, who are probably also in a frat, sit across the room. You could hear their laughter through all the others. You subtly glance over at Heeseung, not wanting your friends to see, your curiosity getting the best of you. Heeseung met your gaze with a nod and a playful smile, a silent acknowledgement of your unspoken deal.

As Shana and Dayeon continued to talk, Dayeon suddenly brought your name up– distracting you from Heeseung.

“Huh, what?” you ask her.

Dayeon rolls her eyes, “Were you even listening?”

“Uh, yeah, I was just thinking about my project that’s due.”

Dayeon gives you a weird look before continuing, “Well I was saying, that Sung Hanbin asked about you the other day?”

Flashes of the last time you had seen him ring in your mind. At the party a few weeks ago, when he winked at you and then overhearing Heeseung wanting to get him kicked out.

“Why would he ask about me?”

“Yeah, and why are you hanging out with him recently?” Shana asks Dayeon with a curious expression.

“Right, I did see you two at the party a few weeks ago,” You nod in agreement with Shana.

Dayeon shrugs, “I don’t know, we have a few classes together.”

“What did he say about me?”

“Nothing much, just asked what you’re up to and all that.”

You didn’t know much about Sung Hanbin, besides from that fact that he is also in a frat. You’ve heard a few stories about him at parties and how he loves to dance. He seemed nice through all the times you’ve heard about him, or passed him in the hall or at parties. You wondered why Heeseung didn’t like him so much.

“Why would he care about that?” You ask your friends.

Shana shrugs, “I don’t know, maybe he’s into you.”

Dayeon agrees, “Probably,”

“What? No,” you shake your head, “I’ve never even spoken to him before.”

“So?” Dayeon asks, “He can still see you, he can think you’re pretty,”

You snark your face up in disgust at her words.

“What?” Shana laughs, “Hanbin’s not that bad looking, I think he’s cute.”

“Yeah, he’s cute,” Dayeon agrees with your friend.

You roll your eyes, “He’s whatever,”

“Oh come on, Y/n,” Shana whines, “You never think anyone is cute,”

“Yeah, how do you expect to get laid if you don’t think anyone’s cute,” Dayeon chimes in.

You scoff, “Easy, I don’t expect to get laid,”

Your friends laugh as you feel your phone vibrate on the table. You flip it over and see a notification:

Heeseung (best dick evr) do u want to meet me at my car after last class?

You hold back your gasp at the contact name to avoid attention from your friends. Why the hell would he make his contact that? You glance across the room at him, a playful smirk on his face when he meets your eyes. You sigh and read his message again.

You type a brief ‘ok’ before you slide your phone away from you. You listen to what Dayeon and Shana are talking about, trying to focus on your friends. But your eyes can’t help but wander over to Heeseung who’s smiling at you behind his friend’s back as they leave the cafeteria.

You feel excitement bubble in your stomach and panties as you think about what you and Heeseung are going to do after your class. You’ll just have to wait three hours to find out.

Enduring the entire class while anticipating fucking Heeseung felt like an awful eternity. Every minute seemed to stretch and you found yourself not being able to sit still for the a mere second.

When the class finally ended, you waved bye to your friends and practically bolted out the classroom. You headed straight for the parking lot, which was busy as people were trying to find their cars and leave for the day. The late afternoon sunlight blinded you as you looked around for him.

Heeseung stood by his car, leaning casually against it, scrolling on his phone. His car, the one that everyone knew belonged to him, was a sleek, black camaro with clean lines and a polished finish. As you approached, Heeseung glanced up, his handsome face lightening up into a devious expression as he watched you walk towards him. You don’t miss the way his eyes trace your body.

With an almost courteous gesture, he opens the back door, “After you.”

You pop your hip out, “We’re having sex in your car?”

“Uh, yeah, I have somewhere to go after,”

You roll your eyes but crawl in. Inside is nice, it smells almost brand new it’s so clean and almost empty. As he crawls in next to you, you look outside the tinted windows, watching everyone getting in their cars, or stopping and talking with their friends. It’s the afterschool rush and now you’re going to have sex with Heeseung.

“What? Worried they’ll see us?” Heeseung quirks an eyebrow at you, “The windows are tinted.”

“What if they hear us?” You bite your lip anxiously at the thought.

Heeseung laughs, “What? Don’t you want everyone to know how good your daddy fucks you?” His hand juts out and pushes a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers dancing along your jaw. His words remind you of how soaked your panties are, and how you’ve had to endure waiting for three hours for this. You needed his cock so bad.

“Fine, kiss me,” you speak.

Heeseung grips your jaw tightly, “Ask daddy nicely,”

You swallow, “Please kiss me, daddy.”

And he does so. His lips meet yours with more familiarity. His rhythm, the texture, the taste, the feeling. It’s a feverish kiss. One that’s been on hold since he texted you earlier. Both of you knowing what was going to happen, and when it was going to happen, but not being able to do it right away.

“Want you to suck daddy’s cock,” Heeseung pulls away to say, hsi eyes looking dead into your own.

You nod at him, “Okay, daddy,”

You guys shift so that your knees are on the car floor and inbetween Heeseung’s spread legs.

“You don’t have to if you don’t wanna,”

You sigh and look up at him, “I want to Heeseung, don’t worry,”

Heeseung softly smiles at you and leans down to press a kiss on your lips, “Then suck,”

Your hands found his jean zipper quickly, pulling it down and both of you helping to push his jeans down to his knees. His cock was already semi hard, the bulge evident in his black boxers. Your hand starts to cup his dick while your lips press kisses into his bare thighs.

“Can’t wait for your dick to be in my mouth, daddy,” you look up at him through your eyelashes, your hand cupping his dick tighter through the fabric.

“Yeah? Been thinking about it? Thinking about daddy’s cock?” Heeseung asks, his head tilting to the side as he does.

“Mhm,” you answer honestly, “ever since I left your room last time,”

Heeseung smiles almost innocently at your answer, teasing that he’s also been thinking about you but won’t say it.

You finally peel off his boxers so they’re at his knees with his jeans. His cock sprung up, his tip beckoning you to put your mouth on it. You brought the pink head to your mouth, taking small kitten licks at it. You feel Heeseung’s thighs tense at the feeling.

Slowly, you bring the tip into your mouth, sucking around it. Heeseung’s hand flies down to tangle into your hair. He doesn’t add any pressure, just holding onto you as you give him pleasure.

You take in every inch of his dick, your cheeks tightening around it as you suck. When you think it’s successfully wet enough you let up to breathe.

“Spit in my hand, daddy,” you hold out your hand to him.

Heeseung groans at your words, “Fuck,” but does so. He leans forward and lets a drop of his spit land in your palm. You put your hand onto his dick, so it mixes with your saliva.

You let your hand start to jerk his hard cock up and down as you put it back into your mouth.

“Shit, baby, jus’ like that,” he nods at you, his eyelids half closed from the pleasure.

You could taste his precum in your mouth as you continued ot suck. Your tongue circles all the prominent veins as your hand continued it’s movements. Everytime your tongue would swipe across the slit of his tip, Heeseung would groan out your name, wanting you to continue.

“You’re such a good girl for daddy,” Heeseung praises you, his hand in your hair tightening with the more pleasure he felt.

You started to suck in your cheeks more everytime his tip would hit the back of your throat. You held it in your mouth for as long as you could before you needed air, just wanting Heeseung to feel so good because of you. Heeseung was starting to not be able to stay still. His neck thrown back onto the headrest as he looks down at you working on his cock. His breaths were becoming erratic as you continued.

“You gonna cum so fast, daddy?” you tease him, your wide eyes meeting his only made him want to cum more.

“Shut up, no,” he says breathlessly, his hand in your hair now pushing you down on his cock. If it wasn’t so far in your mouth you would’ve laughed at him. You could feel how hard his cock was in your mouth now. Feel how tense his body was as he took in all the pleasure you were giving him. “Okay, fuck, fuck,” Heeseung takes you completely off his dick, a string of saliva attaching your mouth to his tip.

“You almost came, didn’t you?” you ask him, out of breath along with him.

Heeseung nods, “Sorry, your mouth’s just like heaven, seriously.”

You pout up at him, “Then why won’t you cum in my mouth, daddy?”

“Oh my god,” Heeseung groans out, “you’re seriously gonna kill me.” You laugh at him as he lifts you up off the car floor, “Want you to ride daddy, that’s why.”

You nod at him as you start to take off your bottoms, Heeseung’s hands aren’t shy to lift up your shirt so your tits are revealed. You whine as he starts to mouth at your tits before you can even kick off your panties properly. “Daddy,”

“What?” he mumbles into your skin, “You look so fucking good today, so pretty. Can’t help myself.”

“Really?” you can’t help but ask, never really thinking about the fact that Lee Heeseung finds you pretty, or attractive. You kind of just thought that he saw you as another pussy to fuck.

Heeseung pops off your nipple with a quirked eyebrow, “What? Of course. You’re always pretty.” Heeseung watches as you throw your bare leg to the other side of his so you’re straddling him. Your bare cores brushing against each others, “Fuck, and sexy.”

You hum in acknowledgement of his words before you lean down and press your lips to his. The kiss is quick and rought and sloppy as you both want to feel each other. You reach down to grab his cock but his hand reaches out to stop you, “Wait, condom.”

“Oh, right,” you nod, and hold onto him as he reaches over into the glove department to grab one. “Really? You have hundreds of them in your car?”

Heeseung chuckles as he opens the package, “Well yeah, you never know when you’re gonna need it, right?”

You roll your eyes but let him slide the condom on and then lift you up so you’re positioned over top of his cock. Slowly, you start to sink down onto his hard member. Both of you make eyecontact as he fills you up, watching the pleasure take over each other’s faces.

When he’s all the way in you can’t help the harsh breath that escapes your lips.

“H-holy shit, daddy, you’re so deep.”

Heeseung nods, “Yeah, can you feel me right in your tummy, baby?” he asks you, his hand coming between your bodies to press down on your lower abdomen. You almost scream when you feel it press against his dick inside of you, right up against your g spot.

“Yes daddy!” you nod, “P-lease move, need it so bad, please.”

Heeseung starts to thrust up in you at a quick pace, giving you no more time to adjust to his size. With every thrust you swear you can feel him deeper and deeper in your stomach. Your whole body is bouncing up and down on his cock.

From this perspective you can see out the entire back window of the car. There’s people still walking to their cars, stopping and talking. You close your eyes as you focus on the pleasure Heeseung is giving you. His face is smashed into your breast, biting and sucking them as you continue to bounce up and down on his cock. You know your knees are going to be sore after this, but for now it just feels so good.

When you open your eyes again, there’s two girls standing at the back of their car that’s directly beside Heeseung’s. They’re talking and laughing with each other, having no idea what was happening in the car just a meter away. The thought that they could hear you makes more excitement bubble in your stomach and you know you’re gonna have to be quicker if you don’t want them to catch on.

Heeseung feels you tighten around his cock suddenly, a groan escaping his lips when he does. He glances up and sees where your eyes keep glancing to. The two oblivious girls stand only a door away from his car, and he knows that that is what is turning you on more.

“Do you want them to know how good your daddy is making you feel, huh?” Heeseung slaps your ass with his hand. You have to bite down on your lip to mask your squeal that almost escaped your mouth.

“Daddy,” you whine out to him, feeling your cheeks heat up to a rosy colour. You felt embarrassed but so turned on that you couldn’t stop riding Heeseung’s cock.

“Want them to hear how you cry out for daddy?” Heeseung smirks into your skin, his thrusts meeting your bounces harshly, his tip hitting your g spot over and over.

“Fuck!” you cry out, your grip tightening on his shoulders as Heeseung pounds into you. When you glance over at the girls they are staring right at your car, their eyes widened as they must notice the car moving now. You cover your mouth with your shaky hand, trying to silence yourself through Heeseung’s pleasure.

You feel Heeseung’s hand slip between your bodies to start rubbing your clit at a fast pace, making you cry out his name more, “Want you to cum on dadddy’s cock, baby. Want you to soak it.”

You notice the girls start moving to get inside their, obviously understanding what was happening in Heeseung’s car, now. You nod your head rapidly at Heeseung’s words. You feel your orgasm start to build more and more with Heeseung rubbing your clit.

Suddenly, it hits you so quickly. Your orgasm crashes down on you, leaving your whole body numb as it rides the pleasure it’s been given. You’re arching your chest more into Heeseung’s face as you throw your head back, crying out ‘daddy’ as you see stars.

“Good girl, fuck, good girl.” Heeseung praises you. He feels your wet pussy clamping around his dick so tightly that he can’t hold on to his own orgasm much longer.

Your jaw falls slack when you feel Heeseung’s dick twitch inside of you before he releases his cum into the condom. Heeseung slopily kisses your neck as he grunts your own name into your skin. His hips don’t stop thrusting into you until you’re whining from sensitivity. Then, both of you are breathing heavy onto each other, catching your breaths.

When you glance over at the car parked beside you, you notice it’s gone, along with majority of all the other cars and people that were in the parking lot when you first entered Heeseung’s car. You wonder if any of them even noticed you getting into his car.

You shift your shirt back down over your chest and stomach. You move to slide Heeseung out of you, so you sit beside him in the back seat and start reaching for your bottoms. Heeseung starts to copy you, shifting to pull his boxers and jeans back up to his hips. It’s almost awkward as you dress.

“Um, I guess, I’ll go now, then.” You say to him, glancing over at his figure as he readjusts himself.

Heeseung shrugs, “Alright, I’ll see you around.”

You nod and open the backdoor, standing up and out– and then you feel drops of wetness hit your head. You glance up at the once clear, blue sky and see that it’s now grey and covered with heavy clouds that exude the drops. You sigh as you realize you’re going to have to bus home in this.

“Hey, uh, I’ll drive you home,” Heeseung speaks from the back.

“Really?” you ask him, “You sure?”

“Yeah, no problem– get in the front.”

Both of you move so that you’re now in the front of his black camaro. Heeseung turns on the heat as you settle in and he pulls out of the school parking lot. It’s silent in the car, besides briefly giving Heeseung directions to your apartment. You find yourself staring at your hands in your lap.

“Did you really not think I’d want to drive you home in the rain?” Heeseung questions suddenly.

You look over at him, his one hand on the steering wheel as he keeps his head looking forward, you look out your window when you answer, “Yeah, I guess.”

“What? Why do you always think of me as some asshole?”

You hear his defensive but curious tone, “I don’t know, just stuff I’ve heard about you.” You hear him scoff so you look at him. You’re stopped at a red light and he’s leaning how elbow on the window with his hand brushing through his bangs. “What?”

Heeseung glances at you, “Nothing, it’s just, I’ve heard things about you but I don’t treat you any differently.”

You’re taken aback at his words. You didn’t even think Lee Heeseung had properly heard about you before he gave you his shirt. “What have you heard about me?”

The light turns green as Heeseung moves the car in motion again and he shrugs, “Just, that you’re a prude and no one understands why Shana and Dayeon are friends.”

Your face wants to contort into a hurt expression, but you don’t let it. Instead you turn to look out your window. You can not believe people say that about you. That before the night Heeseung gave you his shirt that that was what he had known about you. That that was why he confirmed if you were friends with Shana and Dayeon that night. You wondered just how many people thought those things about you. You wondered if Shana and Dayeon thought those things about you, they were always nagging at you to get laid.

Heeseung feels guilty from your silence. He thinks maybe he shouldn’t have told you what he had heard before. But you were also hurting him. It was true that he liked to have sex, but did that really make him an asshole? Did that make him deserve to be treated lower than you? You didn’t even want to be seen with him at his own house party.

Heeseung sighs, “Sorry,”

You roll your eyes in your window reflection, “It’s fine.”

The car comes to another red light and Heeseung lets his back hit the car seat, “Look, Y/n,” you turn to look when your name is mentionned, “I don’t care who or why you’re friends with people– and I definitely don’t think you’re a prude,” you tilt your head at him, “It’s just, how about we restart? You forget everything you’ve heard about me, and I’ll forget everything I’ve heard about you.”

You let his offer ring in your head for a moment, realizing that maybe you had been a little too much on him with the whole asshole-fuckboy-frat stereotype. Maybe you should’ve been a little nicer to him. With that, you sigh.

“Fine, okay– deal.”

Heeseung smiles at your agreement, “Deal.”

The car starts moving again, and this time the silence between you two is lighter. There’s no more unknown things about one another. No more apprehensiveness towards each other. Just the two of you, who like to have sex together, in the car.

Suddenly, your stomach growls, taking up the silence. Both you and Heeseung glance at each other from the noise.

“What? You hungry?” Heeseung asks, a playful smile on his face. With your nod his smile only grows, “Want McDonalds?”

“Uh, yes!” you nod eagerly, “Please! God, I’m actually starving.”

“What? My cock didn’t fill you up enough?”

“Heeseung!” you shove his shoulder playfully, “Stop!”

Heeseung only laughs louder as he turns into McDonalds, ready to fill you up again– but with food this time. And it left you wondering if this friends with benefits deal would actually turn out to be more fun than you thought.

Lee Heeseung dropped you off at your apartment with his black camaro and McDonald’s– which he bought for you. He didn’t drive off until he made sure you got in your apartment okay with a final wave from inside by you.

From then on, things between you and Heeseung had become relatively normal. Instead of having underlying apprehensions with one another– you were honest and open. Something that was probably important to be considering how many times you two have had sex.

Everytime you guys hooked up, you became somewhat closer and closer. It was always unspoken between you two about how you had started to form some sort of secret friendship. But, it was probably unavoidable from how often you guys fucked. Every weekend without fail you would meet up. Whether it was at his frat house, him sneaking into your apartment after your roommates had gone to bed, or you showing up in his bedroom after leaving another party, telling your friends that you were tired and wanted to go home. In between classes, studying– you had become quite familiar with the back of Heeseung’s car.

But, little by little, you two would talk and joke after you were done having sex. Whether it was about some party or gossip, or just some stupid thing that happened in one of your classes. McDonald’s runs were becoming an after sex must. You had formed a friendship with Lee Heeseung, the notorious frat president that you always wanted to avoid.

Dayeon and Shana hadn’t picked up on anything related to you and Heeseung and your fwb deal. In a way you were relieved that they didn’t know, so you could keep something away from their prying eyes and questions.

Though, a few days after the first time you had sex with Heeseung in his car, the three of you were sitting in the library at lunch to study. Some girls a few tables over were having their own conversation that the three of you couldn’t help but overhear.

“Did you hear that Heeseung was fucking some girl in his car the other day?” the one girl asked her group.

You suddenly gulped as she speaks the words. Dayeon and Shana only glancing at eachother with annoyed expressions about having to hear about another Lee Heeseung hook up.

“What, really?” the second girl asked her friend.

“Uh, yeah. Right as everyone was trying to leave to go home.”

“What? Who has car sex during after school rush?”

You could feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, you could only hope to God that your friends in front of you didn’t notice.

“Mina, Lee Heeseung will have sex anywhere, anytime with anyone, not that surprising.” Another girl says with a roll of her eyes. Great, you really did sound like just another Lee Heeseung whore.

“Yeah, but apparently the girl was like screaming, like it felt that good.”

You felt sick suddenly, knowing that everyone has been talking about you moaning and screaming over Lee Heeseung’s stupid frat dick.

“God, I wish Lee Heeseung could fuck me like that, that girl is so lucky.”

“I wish anyone would fuck me like that, all the sex I’ve had has been so boring.”

You stand up abruptly, Shana and Dayeon looked at you confused.

“What’re you doing Y/n?” Dayeon asked.

You started to pile your things into your backpack, just needing to get out of that library.

“Y/n, are you okay?” Shana asksed, concerned at your actions.

“I just, I need to go, I- forgot I had to meet up with people to work on a project.”

“Oh, okay,” Shana pouts at you as you push in your chair. You left the library without a goodbye, praying that your friends would not find out about you and Heeseung.

Now, you went from fucking Heeseung at least three times a week- to not having fucked him in almost three weeks. Every time he has texted you, something had come up that he had to cancel. The first few times you had texted to meet up, he’d say he was busy and that he was sorry. But now, your last few texts have gone unreplied. You haven’t even see him at school, and if you did, it was only for a brief second as you walked past each other in the hall.

Something was up with him, but you knew there would be no point in asking him. And honestly, you were annoyed. He could have at least answered your texts, or given you some sort of explanation. Because honestly, you had gotten used to having sex mulitple times a week. He had raised your sex drive so much, constantly thinking about when and where you would fuck next. And now– nothing. He’s left you high and fucking dry.

Suddenly, your phone starts ringing from a call from Dayeon. You don’t hesitate to pick up as you roll over onto your back onto your bed.

“Hello?” you speak into the line. You’re instantly greeted with loud, house party music.

“Y/n! You have to come to this party tonight I told you! It’s so fun, dude! Please!” Dayeon begs into the phone. You sigh at your drunk friend’s offer. She had told you about it earlier but you had declined. You didn’t feel like partying anymore, not with Lee Heeseung ignoring you, and not with people thinking you’re some sort of prude that doesn’t deserve to be friends with Shana and Dayeon.

“I don’t think so, D. I’m not feeling it tonight, I will next time.” you tell her no again.

“Boo!” Dayeon answers back.

Suddenly Shana’s voice can be heard, “Y/n please! Even though it’s Enha Tau’s party it’s still fun! Come see us, please!” You can hear your pretty friends pout in her words.

Realizing that it’s Enha Tau’s party leaves a knot in your stomach.

“C’mon Y/n! I haven’t even seen any of the annoying frat boys!” Dayeon tries to persuade you.

Shana’s voice is further and muffled, “Didn’t we see Heeseung earlier?”

Hearing his name makes the knot even tighter.

“Guys, I’m not coming tonight I’m sorry. I’ll see you guys when you come home later. Have fun!” you feign cheerfulness to your friends, and sigh when you’re met with both of them booing at you before you hang up.

You open your texts with Heeseung. The message you had sent him four hours ago hasn’t even been read this time. Yet, he was at a party where he knows your friends are. You felt hurt bubble up inside you and you don’t understand why. You know you and Heeseung aren’t dating, and that he likes to fuck around with girls. But not even getting a message from him bothers you.

You just figure he’s moved on to the next girl.

Abruptly, there’s a knock on your front door. You sigh but get up to open it.

You’re surprised to see Sung Hanbin standing there, a big smile on his face once he sees you.

“Oh, uh, hi Hanbin.”

“Hi, Y/n,” he greets you, “Is Dayeon home?”

You shake your head, “No, she’s at a party at Enha Tau’s. Why?”

Hanbin’s expression dropped a bit, “Oh, it’s just she borrowed my textbook, but I need it back now to study for a test I have on Monday.”

“Oh, okay. Come in and I’ll get it for you.” You open the door wider for him to come in. He thanks you and tells you what textbook it is. You leave and thankfully find it sitting right ontop of Dayeon’s desk, snatching it up to give back to Hanbin. “Here you go.”

“Great, thanks Y/n,” Hanbin smiles warmly at you– he really does have a nice smile you think. You couldn’t help but notice how cute he actually was up close. Your conversation with Shana and Dayeon from weeks ago being remembered in your head as you take in his features. HIs polite emeanor and earnestness really add to this handsome charm he has. “I’ll see you at school.”

“You know,” you begin, stopping Hanbin from opening the front door, “I have nothing else to do tonight, and it is Friday, so, would you want to stay and watch a movie or something? Dayeon and Shana won’t be back for a while, so…”

Hanbin’s eyes lit up with a surprised but pleasant expression, “Uh sure, that’d be fun.”

“Really? Great! Let’s go to my room,” you nod behind you. Hanbin leaves his textbook on the table and follows you with his bright smile.

Both of you settled down onto your bed, easily picking a movie that both of you would enjoy. You sit side by side, your legs stretched out in front of you both, your shoulders almost touching. In the dim light of your room, you couldn’t help but let your thoughts race about Sung Hanbin, he was right beside you.

“So,” you start, taking his focus off of the movie, “Dayeon told me you asked her about me.”

Hanbin kept the warm smile on his lips when he answered, “Well, I think you’re cute.”

“What?” you replied in a shocked tone.

Hanbin chuckled at you, “I always see you around, and I’ve thought you were pretty for a while now”

You feel your heart skip for a second out of shock, and for a moment your mind flashed back to when Heeseung had called you pretty in his car. But you quickly push that memory aside to focus on the present reality. Heeseung was with someone else, and Sung Hanbin was in your bed calling you pretty.

“Really?” you asked with curiosity.

Hanbin nodded and leaned in a little closer to you, “Yeah, of course,”.

In that moment, you decide to follow your instinct. Your worries about Heeseung and everything else surrounding him were pushed to the back of your mind as you lean in and press your lips to Hanbin’s. He’s quick to kiss you back, melting into each other as you sync up your movements.

“Can I make you feel good, Y/n?” Hanbin pulls away and whispers. With your nod of consent he continues to kiss you. He gently pushes you down onto your back on your bed so he’s ontop of you. He continues press his tongue against your lip, asking for entrance. When you allow him, your tongues mesh together, tasting each other.

“Want you Hanbin,” you moan against his lips, thrusting your hips up against his. He smiles gently at you like always, pressing a kiss to the top of your nose before he lets his hands start to unbutton your jeans. He so easily slips his fingers to inbetween your panties. You can tell you aren’t as wet as you usually are with Heeseung, but you don’t voice that thought.

Instead, Hanbin brings his fingers to your lips, “Taste yourself, Y/n,” you suck his fingers into your mouth, making sure to coat them with all the saliva you could manage. When Hanbin is satisfied he slips his fingers back into your panties, mixing your spit with your juices.

You mewl out to him when he dances across your clit, teasing you. When he probs two of his fingers inside of your hole you can instantly tell it would be nothing like when Heeseung fingers you. Hanbin has to take a few thrusts to find your g spot. Brushing against it lightly as he curls his fingers upwards.

You decided to lift your shirt up over your head as he fingered you, discarding it somewhere on your bedroom floor. Hanbin’s eyes widened at your action, his eyes staring at your bare chest.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Hanbin compliments you before he lets his mouth start to suck on your chest. You revel in his compliment as he starts to swivel his tongue around your nipple. You could feel his biting, and then his warm tongue soothing over the skin.

“Please, Hanbin, want you cock,” you whine out to him, just wanting to feel him more.

“Okay, baby,” he presses a final kiss to your chest before he slips his hand out of your panties. Both of you work to remove your pants. His hard cock is protruding and the tip is red. “Do you have a condom?”

You nod as you reach over to your bedside table, grabbing one that he easily slips on. You spread your legs to allow him to move inbetween them. With no more hesitation, Hanbin teased you by rubbing his cock up and down your pussy, soaking the condom with your juices and spit. You mewl when his tip circles your clit.

“Ready?” Hanbin asks you, his eyes staying on yours as you nod.

Hanbin starts to slowly sink into your pussy, inch by inch. The strech was different, and it felt good. Everything about hooking up with Hanbin was already so different from what you were used to. You told yourself that it would be good to experience more without Heeseung, even though he seemed to constantly be on your mind during this moment.

“Fuck, you feel good,” Hanbin breathes out once his dick is all the way inside of you. He thrusts his cock back out again slowly, wanting to feel every inch of your wall.

“You feel good, too.” you tell him, your hand gripping onto his upper arms as he finds his pace to fuck into you. He goes slow, but hard– so different from how Heeseung fucks you. He rolls his hips inside of you, your body jutting upwards with every hard thrust of his.

You were physically so close to him, but yet you felt so far. You lay under him, watching him as he grunts and furrows his eyebrows as he fucks into you. You know you should be focusing on him, on the way he’s trying to make you feel– because it’s Sung Hanbin, and anyone would be lucky to be this close to Sung Hanbin.

Hanbin leans down and kisses your lips before leaving his head into the crook of your neck. You can hear and feel each other’s breaths as he fucks you. He presses kisses into your neck while he grunts out your name. You know that if you weren’t so caught up with Heeseung in this very moment, you would be at least somewhat close to an orgasm. Because there was nothing wrong with Hanbin. No, everything he has done has been right and polite. But you’re just so caught up in the waves of Lee Heeseung.

“Baby, I’m almost there,” Hanbin grunts out to you, his grip on your hips tightening. With his words you reach down and start rubbing your clit in fast circles, already feeling even more pleasure with Hanbin deep inside of you. He groans out when he feels your walls tighten around him, squeezing him and prompting him to go closer to his orgasm.

“Want you to cum, Hanbin, please,” you whine out to him, his thrusts getting harder and sloppier as your fingers go faster and faster on your clit.

“Fuck, okay baby, okay,” his voice is breathless when he responds.

Hanbin thrusts a few more times before you feel him release into the condom. The feeling of his hard cock twitching inside of you finally pushes you over the edge as well. Both of you moaning the others name as you cum. Your walls are clasping around Hanbin’s dick, shoved still inside of you as he releases into the condom.

Hanbin’s grip on you didn’t loosen as he leant down and kissed you. It was passionate and gentle– different from how you and Heeseung have ever kissed. Your bodies were sweaty where they met, but Hanbin didn’t seem to mind as he stayed inside of you. You madeout as you both calmed down from your orgasms.

Hanbin started to gently pull out of you, sliding his condom off and throwing it in the garbage bin.

“Stay there,” he tells you before he’s sliding his pants back on and leaving your room. He comes back a minute later with a wet wash cloth he must have found in your bathroom. Before you can ask, he’s asking you to spread legs so he can help clean you up.

You don’t say anything but do as he says, you can’t take your eyes off of him as he oh, so gently wipes up all the spit and fluids. When he’s done, he gently smiles at you and hands you your sweatpants and throws the wash cloth into your laundry bin.

Hanbin makes sure you’re okay and you walk him to your front door.

“I had fun, Y/n,” Hanbin smiles warmly at you.

His smile is contagious and you can’t help but smile back at him, “Yeah, me too.”

“I hope to see you again, then.” Hanbin suggests, biting his lip.

“You will,”

Hanbin smiles once more at you before he leans down and presses a kiss onto your forehead. You say your final goodbyes and close the door after him. It’s only then that you feel like you can breathe properly again. Nothing felt like it went right tonight, but it did.

Hanbin was everything you should want in a man. He is kind, and gentle and caring. He looked after you and made sure you were okay. Hanbin did absolutely nothing wrong. Yet, you feel like something is. And you know exactly what it is.

Suddenly, you can’t help but let a sob out. Your hand covering your mouth to silence yourself even though Dayeon and Shana aren’t home. Tears start to form in your eyes and you don’t even truly understand why. You felt so torn and disconnected with everything.

You lay in your bed with racing thoughts, ready to sleep the rest of this night away. You wiped your tears away as you couldn’t hellp but wish that you spend tonight with Heeseung instead. The guilt overtook you as you realized what the thought must truly mean for yourself. You felt lost with who yourself and wondered what would have happened if you made another choice tonight. Would you still be filled with regret and an inexplicable longing that left you feeling so sunken?

On Monday, you found it hard to concentrate in your classes. Dayeon and Shana could tell something was bothering you all weekend, but you refused to tell them anything. You were trying to get over the weird feelings you were having. Because deep down you knew that there was never going to be any romantic feelings between you and Heeseung. You had just gotten too use to sex with him that hooking up with Hanbin had left you feeling confused. But still, something bothered you in the back of your mind.

You knew you were still conflicted about everything. But chose to ignore one side of the inner argument. YO had to, for the better. Because there was no way that you would become another girl that got hurt by Lee Heeseung. So, you needed to suck up your confused emotions and come back to reality. Lee Heeseung was a notorious frat fuck boy– the type of boy that you always wanted to avoid. But now, it was too late for that, and you had to deal with that.

Dayeon had given Hanbin your phone number and he had texted you this weekend, but you hadn’t had the guts to text him back. You felt guilty because you knew how sweet Hanbin was, but you didn’t want to continue to talk to him when you were already this internally confused.

Dayeon and Shana encouraged you to text Hanbin back. They knew that Hanbin would be good for you, they knew he would treat you right. And you did too. It’s just, is that what you really wanted, or what you should want?

Just as you started contemplating whether or not to continue whatever arrangement you had with Heeseung, your phone vibrated in your pocket. Thankful for another distraction from your current class, you pull out your phone.

Heeseung (best dick evr) do u wanna come over after ur class?

You felt yourself gulp as you read his text. This was the first text back from him in a week. You hesitated as you re-read his text over and over, ignoring your professors words as they went over the lecture slides. There was uncertainty gnawing you, but eventually, you found yourself texting a reply.

you sure

When you arrive at the Enha Tau house, you were almost scared from how quiet and unusual it was. It was a weekday, and there was no sign of the usual raucous party atmosphere that usually took over the entire street. The house was eerily silent as you knocked on the door. You figured all the other frat boys were out, either at their own classes or college clubs.

When Heeseung opened the door, you saw him properly for the first time in weeks. You felt your heart clench at the thought. He looked undeniably good, his appearance exuding an alluring charm like usual. He was more reserved than usual thought. There was a subtle shift in his demeanor as he stepped aside to let you in. You couldn’t hellp but admire his facial features as you walked past him. The room seemed charged with unspoken tension and you couldn’t help but wonder how the dynamics between you have evolved during your time apart.

Stepping into Heeseung’s room, you notice how it looked cleaner than all the other times you’d been there. The clothes were folded and put away, and all the chaos that surrounded his desk and closet had been somewhat tamed.

Heeseung, now sitting on his bed as you walked around and looked at the pictures of his friends and family you could actually see now that his room was cleaner. You tried to ignore the sense of awkwardness hanging in the air. You could both sense that something had changed during their time apart, and you were treading cautiously around it. It was a strange mix of familiarity and uncertainty.

“So,” You start when you lean against his desk, “how’ve you been?”

Heeseung sighs, “Good. I thought I would’ve seen you at the party on Friday.”

You shrug, “Nah,”

“Why not? Doesn’t seem like you to want to miss a party, especially if your friends are there.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at the mention of Shana and Dayeon, “Just didn’t feel it.”

Heeseung sighs and brushes his bangs back out of his face. He completely knows that the reason why it’s awkward is because of him. “Sorry I didn’t text you back, I had some shit to deal with.”

It was true. He did have some shit to deal with. Some family financial things that he must always take care of because his parents can’t. It’s the same shit that he never tells anyone and he mentally groans when he knows you’re about to ask him.

You perk up at the beginning of his apology, “What type of shit?”

“Stupid shit.” Heeseung is quick to reply. He can obviously tell you don’t like his answer by the way you sigh and move to sit beside him on his bed, both of your feet are on the floor as you sit side by side.

“What type of stupid shit?”

“Don’t worry about it shit. It’s done.”

You look away from him when he responds, not saying anything else because you know that that’s all he’s going to give you. Heeseung hates the way your expression looks right now. Hates that he always sees that face on everyone he’s ever closed to. Hates that it’s on your face right now because of him.

“Y/n, look,” Heeseung puts his hand on your thigh, making you look up at him, “I’m sorry I didn’t text you. I saw your texts and I know I should’ve, but I just couldn’t. I was busy and stressed with this shit that came up and I didn’t even know what to do. So I’m sorry.” You nod at his words, a small pout still on your lips that he wishes he could kiss away, “And I’m not good with, opening up, or whatever. So, I’m fine now, don’t worry about it.”

You sigh again but, can tell that he’s being genuine. His eyebrows are furrowed as he explains to you why he hasn’t answered the best he could. And finally, “It’s okay, Hee. I get it.”

Heeseung smiles at your answer, taking his hand off your thigh and settling back onto his bed against his headboard, “Good, because I missed you.”

You smirk playfully at him, “Me or my pussy?”

“Hm,” Heeseung pretends to think, “Both.” You roll your eyes at his answer, “C’mere.”

You smile at him as you crawl over his bed so you’re perched ontop of him. Your knees on either side of his thighs as you straddle him. Both of your arms find each other almost instinctively at this point. His arms wrap around your waist and yours wrap around his shoulders, locking the other one in.

“Did Y/n miss her daddy?” Heeseung looks up at you. You nod, almost shyly when you hear the name. Heeseung smiles before he leans down to press kisses along your neck, finding all the sweet spots he knows so well. You already whimper at his touch, craving it for so long. You feel him smirk into your skin but you could care less if he finds you being needy so amusing.

You start grinding his hips down onto his, needing to relieve some pressure already. His hands help guide you over his crotch as you do so.

“Fuck, baby– Daddy missed your body so much.” Heeseung groans out as he looks down to where your so needily dry humping him.

“Missed yours too, daddy.” you whine out to him, throwing your head back and closing your eyes as you focused on grinding your hips downwards. You feel Heeseung kissing all over your neck. His hands moving under your shirt to lift it up. His hands cup your breasts so nicely, like they perfectly in his hands.

“What the fuck?”

You open your eyes and look at Heeseung. His face contorted into a look of confusion. You look down to your chest where he is staring– catching sight and instantly remembering of the hickey’s Hanbin had left on your chest and tits. Your eyes widen when you glance at the purple and blue marks, some of them yellowing from healing.

“What is that?” Heeseung asks you, his facial expression not changing.

“Uh, hickeys.”

“From who?”

You feel your heart beat pick up in your chest, “Hanbin.” Your voice comes out weak.

“Sung Hanbin?”

You can’t find yourself to confirm, but Heeseung takes your lack of response as the answer. You watch as his face changes from confusion to disgust. He moves your right leg off of him so he can swing his legs over his bed. His back is towards you when he asks, “When?”

“Friday night.”

You watch as Heeseung turns his head away in disbelief and mumbles, “Oh my god.” as he stands up.

“Hee,” you start but stop when he leans down abruptly over his desk, his head hanging. “What?” He ignores you, keeping his back and face away from you as he shakes his head. You can tell he’s pissed at you just from his body language. “What?”

Heeseung turns, an annoyed, angry expression on his face, “Just, Sung Hanbin. Really?” his voice is mean and condescending when it comes out.

You scoff and move so you’re sitting up straight on his bed instead of kneeling, “What’s wrong with that? Why can’t I hook up with other people?”

Heeseung sighs, his fingers squeezing the spot between his eyebrows. His voice is lower now, “You can. It’s just, you had to fuck him? Of all people really, him?”

“Why do you care who I hook up with?” your voice raising as you speak. You can’t help but think how uncanny it is. Lee Heeseung of all people, judging you for hooking up with someone.

Heeseung lets out a frustrated grunt as he turns back around to not see you. He doesn’t answer, but you can see that he’s trying to calm himself down. You had no idea he’d get this mad about it.

When it’s silent in his bedroom for a few moments you speak again, “Heeseung,” your voice is calmer and softer when you ask, “Are you mad because I hooked up with Hanbin, or that I hooked up with someone else at all?”

You hear Heeseung breathe a heavy breath before he answers, “Both.”

You breathe in a heavy inhale, taking in his answer. “Heeseung, if you’ve been hooking up with everyone else, then why can’t I?”

Heeseung turns at your words, his face back to confused, “Well, I haven’t been hooking up with anyone else,” you can tell you look taken aback at his answer, “Only you.”

Heeseung looks away from you but his body stays facing you, you can tell he’s struggling to look at you. The room goes silent again, but it’s full of anger.

“What do you want me to do then? Leave?” you stand up before he can answer, heading straight to his bedroom door.

“No,” a hand grabbing your forearm stops you, you turn to look at him, his arm stretched out to grab you, “Stay.”

You turn to face him, his hand stays on your forearm, holding you like you’d run away if he let go. Like he’s scared that that would happen. You tilt your head to the side when he doesn’t say anything. The room is thick as you two stare at each other, each trying to figure out what to say or do.

Heeseung finally lets your forearm go and he leans back on his desk, “Did- did you use a condom when you fucked Hanbin?”

You close your eyes at his vulgar words but reply, “Yes.”

Heeseung sighs once more, “Then let’s update our deal,” he steps forward again so he’s an inch away from you, “I can only fuck you, and you can only fuck me.”

He’s serious with his words, and sticks out his hand for you to shake, “Deal?”

You think for a second, staring at his outward hand in front of you, but ultimately nod, “Deal.” Your hands meet in a shake, once again securing some weird arrangement with the frat boy you once wanted to avoid.

With the hand he’s holding onto, he suddenly pulls you forward, your face landing in his chest, “Now will you let me fuck you?” You nod up at him, wanting to feel him so bad.

His hand meets your lower cheek, a light warning, “Use your words. Beg,”

“Yes, daddy. Please fuck me, daddy. I’ve wanted it for so long,” you instantly whine out to him, the truth spilling out in your words.

Heeseung smirks down at you, before he’s pushing you over onto his bed on your back. He doesn’t hesitate to climb on top of you, his hand going straight for your neck and squeezing. Your mouth drops open as he chokes you, “Gonna let daddy ruin your pussy?”

“Please,” you speak out to him. He leans down and harshly presses his lips onto yours. You kiss him back, his hand still enclosed on your neck as you makeout with him. Taking in his taste and lips that you had missed feeling so much.

When he pulls away completely he commands, “Take your clothes off,”

You hurriedly do as he says, standing up and pulling off your clothes, dropping them onto his floor. He leans back on his bed and watches you, taking in your body that he knows so well. Your body that he loves. You stand in front of him naked, letting him soak in your body.

When he meets your eyes he says “On your back, spread your legs.”

You lay on your back, letting him kneel in between your legs. His eyes circle around the bruises Hanbin had left. You can see the anger form in his eyes as he looks around the purple marks.

“Did Hanbin fuck you good? Did he fuck you as good as I do?”

“No, daddy. No,” you shake your head instantly.

Heeseung reaches forward and traces the bruises on your chest, “You sure? Looks like he had fun.”

“Yes, daddy. I thought about you the entire time,” you speak honestly, knowing you’ll probably regret it tomorrow.

Heeseung smirks at your answer, “Really? Don’t think I need to show you who’s pussy this belongs to?”

You gulp at his words, “Show me, daddy.”

Heeseung quirks his eyebrow up before he slips his middle finger right into your pussy. You gasp out at the intrusion, his finger going right at your g spot. His thumb starts slow circles on your clit at the same time. “Fuck, did Hanbin get you this wet?”

You moan out as he starts to push his middle finger in and out of you. “God, why do you hate Hanbin so much.”

Heeseung grunts at your question and starts pounding two of his fingers inside of you, stretching you open so easily from your walls being so wet. “Fuck!” you cry out, your hand flying to grip onto his sheets from how hard and fast he had his fingers fucking into you.

“He fucked my girlfriend,” Heeseung states.

“What?” you lift your head, trying to refocus on his words despite your pussy clamping helplessly around his fingers.

“He fucked my girlfriend and then dated her right after.”

You tried to take in his words, thinking about Hanbin taking Heeseung’s apparent girlfriend. But the only girl you knew that dated Hanbin was, “Choi Yerim!” Heeseung rolls his eyes at her name. “You dated Yerim?” your question comes out in a high pitch whine as Heeseung’s pace didn’t let up.

“For like a week before she cheated on me with Hanbin,” Heeseung explains like his fingers were curling up inside of you, massaging your g spot before pulling out and forcing his fingers back in again.

“Oh shit,” you moan out, “I-I’m sorry.”

Heeseung scoffs, “Don’t worry about it and cum.”

You nod against his pillow, grunts and moans escaping your lips as his thumb keeps rubbing circles on your clit, “Fuck! Fuck!”

“That’s it, baby, cum on daddy’s fingers.”

His words are the final push that send you over the edge of your first orgasm. You squeal and cry out his name as his fingers fuck you through it. You’ve needed this so bad. Needed Heeseung, needed his fingers, his words.

He takes his fingers out of you, his tongue starts to lap around them, sucking up your juices.

“Fuck, I missed your taste.” Heeseung leans over you, “Did you let Hanbin taste you, too, whore?”

“No, daddy,” you shake your head.

“No?” Heeseung mocks you, “You’re not the little whore I think you are?” You bite your lip and repeat yourself, desparate. “Who’s whore are you?”

“Yours, daddy. Just yours.”

Satisfied with your answer, Heeseung leans down so his mouth is level with your sopping pussy. He doesn’t wait a second before he’s delving his mouth onto your core. His lips sucking every part of you. A gasp leaves your mouth when he starts to get just the right rhythm.

Heeseung is ravenous in your pussy. He’s always liked eating out girls, especially you. He loves the way you jut your hips forward and grind your pussy down onto his mouth, always needing more. You could just never get enough of him and it drove him crazy.

Tonight, Heeseung is even crazier as he eats you. His whole head and neck moving to lick every single part of you. Alternating from fucking your hole with his tongue, to circling your clit. He loves to bite down gently on your clit, loving the way you squeal out and tell him to not stop.

Your hands tangle in his black hair, tugging on it to try to gound yourself from how high you felt on pleasure.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you repeat, trying to close your legs around Heeseung’s head, the pleasure increasing and increasing. But, Heeseung stays inbetween your legs, his tongue delved deep inside of you. “I- I’m gonna cum!”

“Cum, whore, do it– let me see how much of a whore you really are.” Heeseung encourages you before he tongue fucks you again, nose pressed into your clit.

“Oh, god, oh-,” you cry out, “Fuck!” you scream as you feel your orgasm hit. You feel wet drops land all on your inner thighs as your body goes almost numb from the pleasure. Your breathing is erratic as you let the pleasure consume your whole body.

“Fuck, baby,” Heeseung groans out, his entire lower half of his face and collar of his shirt is soaked. “That was so fucking hot,” you open your eyes finally once the pleasure dies down, you take in Heeseung’s appearance and realize that you must have squirted again. Heeseung moves so you’re face to face, “You okay?”

You nod against the pillow, “Yeah, just, waited a while for this.”

Heeseung feels his heart clench at your words but doesn’t let it show, “Roll over,”

Heeseung helps you onto your stomach, your ass up in the air for him. You hear him stand and undress himself quickly, almost as eager as you are. You watch as he opens his drawer and grabs a condom to slide on. He pumps his cock as he gets on the bed on his knees, gripping your ass as he gets behind you.

“Gonna show you who’s messy pussy this is, huh baby?” Heeseung grunts as he starts to slide his thick length up and down your slit.

“Yes, daddy, please,” you respond so obediently to him.

Heeseung finally starts to push his hard cock into you, so, so slowly. It makes you whine out as he seemingly takes all the time in the world to fill you up. Once inside, both of his hands land on your ass cheeks, making you cry out.

He slaps your one ass cheek once more, “Fuck, you feel so good, so fucking messy, baby.”

“Just, just for you, daddy.”

“Yeah? No one else?” Heeseung leans over so his chest is right against your back.

“Yes.”

“Good girl,” he praises before he’s leaning back up and moving his hips backwards, sliding his cock right out of you until just the tip is inside of you still, and he slams it back inside of you. He continues fucking into you like that until his pace has picked up feverishly. He’s fucking into you so roughly that your entire body is moving upwards on the bed, your hands holding onto the headboard to make sure you’re not rammed into it.

“Yes! Just like that daddy, please!”

“Just like this? The whore likes it when I, god, I fuck her hard and rough?” Heeseung questions, his grip on your waist tightening as he only moves his hips back and forth.

“Yes! Fuck, yes!”

Your face was smashed into the mattress as you let Heeseung fuck your pussy. If it wasn’t for Heeseung holdin gyour hips up then your whole body would flat against the mattress. He was fucking you until you were useless. Allowing him to use you and fuck you so good.

“Did Hanbin fuck you this good? Get you to cum so good?” Heeseung grunts out, his voice becoming as breathless as you were. When you didn’t answer you earned another harsh slap on your ass, “Answer whore or I stop.”

“No!” you instantly cry out, “No!”

You spread your thighs farther apart, letting Heeseung have more room. You keep moaning at the sensation of his cock gliding so easily against your walls. His cock has never felt so hard and full before. It fills you up perfectly.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Heeseung groans out, slapping your ass again, loving the way you tighten even more every time he does. “You gonna cum?”

You can only mumble a short yes as you feel the coil already starting to snap in your stomach. Heeseung wraps his arm around your abdomen so his fingers can rub at your clit sloppily. It was the final action that caused you to cry out, your eyes squeezing shut as the wave of your orgasm took over your body completely. You had truly hit oblivion because of Lee Heeseung’s cock.

Heeseung’s pulls his cock out of you, and quickly pulls off the condom before he starts jerking his cock at a fast pace. The juices from your pussy on his fingers spreads over his cock evenly. “C’mere, baby– wanna cum on your face.”

You numbly roll over onto your back, letting Heeseung kneel closer to your face. You could hear and see your juices squelch on his cock from how fast he was jerking his cock.

“Please cum, daddy, wanna taste your cum so bad,” you speak up to him, fucked out.

Finally, Heeseung cums, “Fuck, fuck Y/n,”. Not a second later that you feel warm droplets of his cum hit your face. They land on your cheeks, lips and nose. He lets out a final groan before he drops to sit down on the bed beside you. He watches as you lick away his cum that landed on your lips before her scoops up the remaining on your cheeks and nose, “Open,” you do as your told and let him stick his cum covered fingers into your mouth. He feels you hum around them at the taste of his cum and the remnants of yourself. “Good girl,”

When he pulls out his fingers he leans down to press a kiss onto your lips before he lays down beside you, finally able to try catching his breath. His room is silent besides your heavy breaths.

Heeseung glances over at you after a few moments, taking in your tired, naked body. He watches the few sweat droplets train down your neck and hairline. Your messy hair is sprawled around his pillow with your lips swollen. Your ass is red from his slaps and he’s sure your pussy is just as red and puffy. He thinks that he should get up to get you a towel or something, but you’re already getting up, reaching for your clothes.

You don’t care what your hair or makeup looks like as you dress, reality finally sinking in about what deal you’ve made with Heeseung. How you can only fuck each other. You never would have thought that Lee Heeseung could stick to only fucking one girl, so how the hell would he want only fuck you?

“You going?” Heeseung asks you lazily from his laying position on his bed, his bare chest not covered by the sheet that covers his lower half.

“Yeah, I gotta finish a paper that’s due tomorrow,” you lie so easily to him. Heeseung doesn’t respond as he watches you put your shoes back on and head for his bedroom door, but you hear him shuffle around on his bed. When you turn back to him, holding the door halfway open before you leave, his back is facing you as he rolled over onto his side, “Oh and Heeseung?”

“Yeah?” he mumbles to you, fatigue evident in his voice.

“I’m sorry I hooked up with Hanbin.” you tell honestly now.

It’s silent for a moment and you wonder if he fell asleep before, “It’s fine– don’t worry about it.”

Heeseung hears you sigh and then leave his room, closing the door behind you.

He feels weird now that you’ve left. It’s become a routine for you two that after you fuck, you get food or talk or just lounge around whatever place you’ve just fucked in. He thinks maybe it’s because he’s usually the one to leave so quick after hooking up with someone. It saves him some awkwardness and closes any option for a conversation. But, that was before he started hooking up with you.

With you, it’s different. He likes talking to you, hanging out with you, hearing whatever stupid story you just have to tell him. He doesn’t know why it’s different, just that it’s with you. You stand up to him and challenge him. You’re not clingy or looking for a relationship. You understand that that is something he could never give you. And it tugs at his heart a little in a way he absolutely hates. Because Heeseung hates relationships and feelings and everything that comes along with them.

And he hates that he’s thought about what it would be like to be in a relationship with you. The past weeks have been hell for him because of his family, but when he would finally get some piece and quiet, all he would think about was you. Everytime he got a message from you it would clench his heart a little. But, he’s just too fucked up and he doesn’t want you to have to deal with all of his fucked up problems, too.

Heeseung feels selfish a bit, telling you that he’s the only one that you can fuck. But, a deal is a deal, even if that means him being a little possessive over you. Because he knows that your little deal is the only thing he will truly ever have with just you, and nothing more. Because he’s Lee Heeseung, who doesn’t do relationship, and you’re Y/n, who doesn’t even want to be seen with him in public.

As Heeseung contemplates the complex tide of his and yours secret arrangement, he couldn’t help but feel a longing for you, wishing that you stayed in his room with him, just a bit longer.

After you and Heeseung had updated your deal, things seemed to go back to normal, at least the sex was. You would always text each other about when and where you needed the other. There was a comfortable rhythm, a balance almost. You would fuck, leave, text when your horny and repeat.

Until one day when you had just finished hooking up in his car outside some stupid party you both were bored at. You were reaching for the car door when Heeseung asked if you wanted to get food or something, stay a little longer. You paused with your hand on the door knob and looked at him.

“That’s not a part of our deal, is it, Hee?” you ask him with a knowing smirk.

“Well, no, but I’m hungry,”

You bit your lip as you contemplated his words, reaching your hand out to tangle your fingers in his hair, “I can’t, Shana and Dayeon are still inside, I’ll see you at school though, right?”

Heeseung kept his masked smirk on his face at yours words, “Right,”

“Enjoy McDonald’s for me.” You shove his shoulder before you get out of his camaro and head back inside to find your friends.

Both of you let out a breath at the same time unknowingly. There was tension growing between you and neither one of you wanted to mention it. It would be better if it was ignored at all cost. Both of you had your reasons and it would just complicate things if it was brought up. But still, both of your hearts ached as you waved bye to Heeseung from the front porch as he drove away.

After, you started to notice that Heeseung was texting you to meet up more often. You thought he just needed to destress at first, but now it seemed like he didn’t even want to fuck half the time you showed up.

“You’re becoming clingy,” you tell him as you kiss down his neck as you were currently straddling his lap on your bed.

“No, I’m not,” he replies instantly, feeling you smile into his skin.

You sigh and wrap your arms around his shoulders as you look at him, “You are,” you keep the smile on your face.

“No, I’m not, I’m just horny, so why don’t you suck my dick like the good girl I know you are?”

You roll your eyes at him, but move down to be inbetween his legs, ready to make him cum for the one millionth time.

After you told him you think he’s becoming clingy, his hook up texts slowed down, which only made you crave him more. Especially since it was mid term season and all you had time to do was study. No parties, no fun, no Heeseung hookups.

One night, Shana and Dayeon were tired from studying and headed out to some party that they had begged you go to with them. With your refusal, they left without you so you could study for the rest of the night in peace.

It was well past midnight when you heard your phone vibrate from somewhere under all your papers and textbooks.

Heeseung (best dick evr) are u awake?

You yeah

Heeseung (best dick evr) ok good bc i’m outside

Shocked, you quickly threw on a hoodie over your tank top and headed to your apartment door.

As you opened the door, sure enough, Heeseung was there. And he was drunk. You could tell just from looking at him, and when he walked past you into your apartment he’s been in so many times, you could smell it.

“Heeseung, what’re you doing?” you asked him concerningly.

“What? I came to see you,” he replies with a subtle, slurred speech.

“Okay… but we are not fucking with you in a state like this,”

Heeseung rolls his eyes, “I didn’t come to fuck you, I just wanted to see you.”

His explanation hangs in the air before you sigh, “Okay, come to bed, Heeseung.”

He so easily flops down onto your bed, giggling drunkenly to himself as he bounces upwards on the mattress. He watches as you quickly try to fix your hair in the mirror by your door.

“C’mere pretty girl,” Heeseung reaches his arm out to try to reach you from across the room.

You scoff at his words, “Oh god, now you’re complimenting me?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“You never do that,”

Heeseung looks taken aback at your words, “What? I do all the time.”

“Saying my pussy is so wet and tight does not count, Hee.”

Heeseung laughs at your words but he can still tell that you’re serious, “Okay, well I compliment you in my head all the time,”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Like,” Heeseung draws out the word, “how you’re so pretty, and funny, and responsible and how you have a fuckin’ smoking hot body.”

You cover your face in your hands at his words, not believing how drunk he is in your bed right now.

“Come here,” he whines out to you, and pats the spot next to him on your bed.

“Fine,” you tell him and let him pull you into your bed. You lay down beside him like he instructs you to. So now both of you are laying side by side. Your bedroom lights are turned off, with just the moonlight and streetlamp coming in through your window.

When your room goes silent again, Heeseung speaks up, “I do mean it though, those compliments.”

“Hm, do you?”

“Yeah, I do, because I like you– more than anyone.”

You glance over at him, his hood from his sweater is on his head as he lays down, his eyes are closed as he speaks to you, mumbling something about when he keeps his eyes open he feels like the room is spinning.

You don’t know how to respond to his words, trying to decipher what he means by them.

“Don’t believe me?” Heeseung’s eyes open as he turns his head to look at you.

“I don’t know what to believe.” You tell him earnestly.

Heeseung sighs, “I do like you Y/n, but I’m just too, like messed up.”

You furrow your eyebrows, “What do you mean?”

“Remember when we stopped talking a few weeks ago, because I said I had some shit to deal with?” With your nod, he continues, “Well it’s because my brother’s just gotten out of jail, and my parents are too drunk to help him. So I was helping him with money and to find a place to live and all that. He’s my best friend, so.”

Your heart clenches at his confession, “What did your brother do, if I can ask?”

Heeseung waves his hand discardingly, “Took a the blame for my drunk parents crashing the car, nothing big.”

“What? Heeseung that’s really big. Why would he do that?” your body turns to face him.

Heeseung shrugs, “I don’t know, they’re drunks, but he’s always tried to help them– way more than I ever have. But he’s helped them, and now they aren’t even helping him. So I have to, because he’s my brother and he raised me.”

You can’t help but reach your hand out to brush Heeseung’s bangs out of his face, “I’m sorry, Heeseung, that’s so tough. You’re so kind.”

Heeseung shrugs, “I’m fine, it’s fine.”

“Hee,” you call him, moving his chin so he looks at you, “You don’t have to be fine all the time, you can talk to me.”

“Don’t say that to me.”

“Why not?”

“‘Cause it’ll just make me fall in love with you more.”

Your heart raced with a mix of surprise and uncertainty as Heeseung’s words. It’s a drunk confession, and it leaves you with a torrent of emotions that are going to be difficult to untangle.

Heeseung yawns then, rolling onto his side, “Night, Y/n.”

“Night, Heeseung.”

You try to sleep that night, but all you can think about is Heeseung’s words and how his warmth is radiating onto your back. It was the first time you had ever slept in the same bed together. You could smell his cologne, hear his light breaths, and feel everytime his hand shifted on your waist as he held you. You wondered if he’ll regret this in the morning.

The morning sun crept through your curtain, casting a soft flow in the room as you and Heeseung woke up. Heeseung yawned before he realized how big of a headache he has.

“Morning,” you tell him cautiously, remembering last night.

“Morning,” Heeseung kept his hand on his head, the sunlight killing his head more.

“Here,” you pass him the water and advil you kept on your nightstand. He gratefully took it, hoping it fixed his headache sooner rather than later.

Heeseung glances down at both of your clothed bodies laying in your bed, “Did we?...”

“No,” you shook your head, “You were so wasted.”

Heeseung grins before plopping his head back against his pillow, “Yeah, sorry about that. The guys talkekd me into taking a break from studying and I guess I took too much of a break.”

You crack a smile at his playfulness, “So you don’t remember much from last night?”

Heeseung furrowed his brow as he tried to think, “Nah, I guess not a lot of it. I remember getting into an Uber and that’s it. Guess I can here.” He smiles cheekily at you. When he sees you don’t return his smile he asks, “Why? Did something happen?”

You immediately shook your head, “No, nothing.” you forced a smile. Heeseung shrugged before pulling his hood over his eyes, complaining about your “shitty curtains”.

As Heeseung left your apartment, quiet to not wake up your hungover roommates, you were left with a profound sense of not knowing what to believe or what to do. The revelation of Heeseung’s confession had messed you up. But the fact that he didn’t remember must about the event last night left you in a state of emotional limbo.

All you knew was that you could not fall in love with Lee Heeseung, no matter how tempting the general idea was. No, because falling in love with Lee Heeseung held consequences that you did not want to deal with.

After the night Heeseung confessed to you and subsequently forgot about it, you avoided him at all costs. Whenever he would send you a text you would ignore it, your heart would arche with each unread message. If you spotted him in the hallays or around campus, you’d change your direction making a conscious effort to evade any interaction.

Even the college parties that had once been a regular part of your social life were no longer an option. You knew that there was a high chance of running into Heeseung at one of them, and you couldn’t bear to face him under such circumstances.

Your once thriving social and sex life had dwindled, replaced by a cloud of avoidance and self hatred as you grappled with the aftermath of his intoxicated confession.

It didn’t take long for Shana and Dayeon to realize something was up with you, and this time, you told them everything. You told them about your not one, but two deals you’ve made with Lee Heeseung. How he had ignored your text messages because he had to deal with his family. How you hooked up with Hanbin. How Heeseung told you people think you’re a prude and shouldn’t be friends with them. And you told them how he had told you he loved you and had completely forgotten about it.

You could tell that your friends were angry with you for keeping all of this from them for so long, for months, but most importantly they wanted to help you feel better.

Dayeon spoke first, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, “I’m sorry you felt like you had to kepe this from us, Y/n. But you don’t have to go through this alone anymore.”

Shana nodded in agreement, “Of course, we’re you’re friends, and we’re here for you.”

You felt tears well up in your eyes as you realized the depth of their support. You hadn’t realized how much you truly needed your friends until that moment. “Thank you guys,” you said, your voice weak, “I’ve just been, so confused.”

Shana and Dayeon exchanged a knowing look before enveloping you into a tight group hug. “We’ll figure it out together,” Dayeon reassured you like always, “You’re not alone, no matter what’s going on with Heeseung or you.”

You felt a warmth in your heart for the first time as you embraced your friends, grateful for their unwavering support during the most turbulent and confusing time in your life.

You’ve felt better since you reconnected with Shana and Dayeon. It had brought you a sense of comfort and support. The weight that you had been carrying seemed a little lighter and you were grateful to have your frends by your side once again.

When you went to meet up with them at lunch, you could tell from a distance that something was wrong. You could see it on their faces as you walked up the table.

“Y/n, I have something to tell you,” Dayeon spoke when you sat down, eyes widened in a trouble expression.

“What’s wrong?” you asked your friends.

“Hanbin’s been going around telling people that he “fucked the college” prude.”

You felt your heart sank at the news. “Me?”

Both of them nodded at you with a disappointed look on their face, worried about you. You tried to calm yourself, feeling anger rise up inside of you that you hadn’t felt for months. You were tired of all the drama that came with frat boys and you wished you had listened to your gut and just avoided them all completely.

You didn’t say anything as you stood, storming off to the side of the cafeteria where you knew Sung Hanbin and his frat usually ate lunch. And sure enough, they were there. A group of guys surrounding Hanbin as he told them some apparently funny story as they all laughed along with what he said.

“Hanbin,” you call out to him. The table going silent as they turn to see you. “I heard what you’ve been saying about me.”

Hanbin looked taken aback as he glanced from you to his friends, “But it’s true though, no?”

You roll your eyes, “Actually no, cause I am not a prude and the sex with you fucking sucked.”

You notice how some of his friends have to cover their mouths to stifle their laughs, not being able to look at Hanbin as they did so. You could see the anger start to rise on Hanbin’s usually so-sweet face.

“Whatever Y/n, it was just a joke anyways.”

Your frustration boiled over, “A joke?” you snapped. “You know what Hanbin, Heeseung was right about you. You are a fucking asshole. So get off this little frat-boy-college-high-horse you seem to be on and come back to reality. Because maybe then you’d see how truly pathetic you are.”

The weight of your words hung heavy in the cafeteria, everyone silent as you stand up to Hanbin. His expression shifted from playful to angry so quickly.

“Heeseung?” Hanbin questions with a scoff, “Why don’t you go fuck him, too then, prude.”

“Maybe I will, at least he’ll be able to find the clit.”

Hanbin’s group of friends all gasp out into a fit of laughter as you walk away. You couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of satisfaction for standing up for yourself and defending your choices. You felt like you had some sense of control in your life, again. And maybe that would help make up your mind about at least some things.

After a storm warning that would fill the entire city and cancelling all classes, you found yourself stuck at home. Which sucked because you really felt like partying for the first time in weeks. Your sense of self was slowly returning thanks to the reviatlized connection with your friends. You were starting to regain your confidence.

As the rain poured down in torrents, your phone rang. Your heart stopped and you hesitated for amoment before you answered it.

“Hello?” you asked into the line.

“Hey,” Heeseung’s voice came through, sounding distant and shaky. “It’s me. I’m really cold and really wet. Can I come in? Please?”

Your heart skipped a beat. It had been weeks since you had seen or spoken to him. You didn’t know what to expect as you dashed to your apartment door and swung it open. You were met with a sight that took your breath away.

There, stood Lee Heeseung, drenched from head to toe, his hair clinging to his forehead and his clothes clinging to his frame. His expression was a mix of relief and vulnerability as he looked at you, rain drops trickling down his cheeks.

“Y/n,” he said softly, his voice unsteady, “I’m so sorry for everything.”

“What do you mean?” you ask him, your hand tightening on the doorknob.

“I know I told you that I love you. I remember. I was just, scared.” Your jaw drops at his words, after all this time, he really remembered the confession. “But now I’m not.” Heeseung steps closer to you as he looks into your eyes, the most serious you’ve ever seen him, “I love you Y/n, and if I’m going to be rejected, I want to be rejected to my face– not by ignoring my messages or running away when you see me in the halls. So, there. I love you, and I mean it.”

You stand there, jaw dropped as you take in his words. He’s here, standing here, soaking wet and so vulnerable as he tells you his true feelings.

With your lack of response Heeseung starts to get antsy and begins to turn to leave you, “Wait, Heeseung,” you reach out and grab his wet sleeve, stopping him. “I can’t reject you to your face,” you shake your head at him, watching as his eyes drop to the floor, “but it’s because I love you, too.”

Heeseung’s whole demeanor lights up the darken room, “Really?”

You laugh, “Yes, really. I love you so much, Heeseung.”

Heeseung doesn’t waste a minute before he’s reaching for you, pulling your face upwards to meet his in a feverish, passionate kiss. It was a kiss that conveyed a multitude of all the unspoken emotions you have felt for each other for so long. A blend of longing and desire that remained hidden for too long. Your fingers tangled in Heeseung’s wet hair while his cold hands held your cheeks.

He tasted of his usual, mixed with rain and love. Time seemed to stand still as you shared the most intense kiss you have ever experienced. Your hearts beating in a quick unison, echoing the longing you had tried so hard to suppress.

You dragged Heeseung into your bedroom with you, no longer caring if Dayeon or Shana heard you with him.

Heeseung pushes you onto your back, stripping off his wet clothes, nodding at you to do the same. You both reconnect with him on top of you, lips meeting each others with a passionate fever. He lets his hand trail down to between your bodies, his fingers rubbing your clit gently.

“Daddy,” you whimper out to him at the feeling.

Heeseung shakes his head no, pressing kisses into your neck, “Just call me, Hee, baby.” You nod at him, taking his face in your hands and kissing him, wanting to never stop.

Heeseung leans back onto his knees, spreading your legs for him, he stares at your wet, core as he’s about to slide in his cock, “Shit, wait, do you have a condom?” he’s almost breathless when he asks.

“Just fuck me raw, Hee, please.” you tell him, eyes begging from it.

“Fuck, okay, baby.” Heeseung leans over to kiss you, “You sure?”

You smile against his lips, “Yes I’m sure, please.” With one more final kiss, Heeseung slides his cock into you slowly, letting both ofyou feel his bare cock sldie against your velvet walls.

“Holy shit, Y/n.” Heeseung curses, “Seriously, holy shit, you feel so good.” You can only whimper in response as you feel every vein of his cock go up your mesh walls. You mewl and whine until Heeseung’s completely inside of you, holding your legs still from moving, “Just slipped right in, so good.”

“Hee,” you call for him, your face completely blissed out from his cock. “Move, please.”

Heeseung nods, listening to you as he starts to thrust his hips back and forth. Your pussy’s so wet that it lets his cock move so easily. It makes you both feel like you’re in heaven. You keep moaning out, edging Heeseung on as he keeps building his pace slowly. His fingers find your clit, rubbing slow, gentle circles around it. He groans out when he feels your clench around his bare cock tighter.

“Fuck, you’re so deep, Hee.” you tell him, “Feels so good.”

“I know, baby, I know.” Heeseung nods, “Like you’re made for my cock.” His words make your groan out more. They have such an affect on you that he’ll never truly understand.

Heeseung’s grip on your legs tightens as he slowly picks up his pace, feeling himself grow closer to his orgasm already. Your wet, velvet walls keep sucking him in with every thrust, tightening around him everytime his thumb swivels against your swollen clit.

“God, yes, fuck your pussy, Heeseung, yes,” you nod at him, grip tightening on the sheets as he fucks deeper and deeper into you.

“Fuck, who’s pussy is it?”

“Yours, Hee, all yours.”

Heeseung grunts out, eyes closing as he fucks you. His thrusts are getting sloppier, never feeling so good before. Your wall just keep sucking him in, wanting to keep him inside of you.

“Are you gonna cum?” You ask him, recognizing when he’s close by now.

“Not without you, baby, please cum on my cock, wanna feel it bare.” Heeseung nods, his thumb circling your clit harder and faster and he keeps thrusting his dick inside of you. In and out with his just his hips rolling so perfectly.

“Fuck!” you cry out, “I’m gonna cum, don’t stop.”

“I won’t, baby, just cum, I got you, just let go.” Heeseung’s voice is stern when he speaks, despite his chest heaving so quickly.

With his words, you hit your climax, a high pitch moan coming out of your mouth before Heeseung covers your mouth with his hand, trying to keep you quiet for the sake of your roommates. Your orgasm has you shaking, soaking Heeseung’s bare cock while he fucks you through it, feeling your wells throb around him, edging him on to his own orgasm.

“God, you’re such a good girl,” Heeseung shakes his head at you.

“Want you to cum, Heeseung– wanna feel your cum in my pussy.” you tell him, your hands holding onto his forearms as he leans over you, dropping your legs and holding himself up on the bed. “Please, wanna feel it drip out of me so bad.”

“Oh God, oh God, fuck, baby-,” Heeseung finally cums, throwing his head back as he reaches his climax, feeling completely blissed out. You keep moaning as you feel his cum shoot up inside of you for the first time. The warmth spreading over your walls. “I love you,” Heeseung leans down to kiss you, his lips not leaving yours until you push him away for air.

“I love you, too.”

Heeseung very slowly pulls out of you, both of you watching as his white cum starts to dribble out of you. Heeseung groans as he watches your swollen pussy leak his cum, thinking to himself that he’ll never get use the sight of it. He scoops up his cum and you open your mouth, already knwoing by now what he wants you to do. You hum around his fingers as you drink the substance off of them. Your tongue circles his fingers, making him tell you to stop or he’ll get hard again.

When you’ve calmed down, Heeseung lifts you and brings you to the shower with him. He tells you that he’s been wanting to shower with you and take care of after sex for so long now, but he was scared. You reassure him that there’s nothing to be scared of now. That it’s him and you and that you love each other.

Heeseung does what he’s always wanted to do, washes your body after he ruins you, wanting to take care of you. He kisses all over your body as he cleans you, whispering about how much he loves you over the shower water running.

And you let him fuck you again after, up against the shower wall. The slowest, loveliest sex you’ve ever had. His hands carressing every part of you as he tells you what a beautiful girl you are and how he’s so lucky to have you, so lucky to be able to fuck your pussy. How he never wants to lose you.

And when he’s done cleaning you up again, you lay in your bed together, warm as outside thunders and rains so heavily. You lay in each others embrace as your souls finally connect together in peace.

“You know,” you start, “did you really believe the rumour that I was a prude before you met me?”

Heeseung shrugs, “Yeah, I guess.” You gasp playfully at his answer. “What? You believed the rumour that I had a daddy kink.”

“What?”

“I mean, I never even tried that whole daddy think until I met you– I thought you had the daddy kink.”

Your jaw remains open at his words, “I can’t believe you right now, Hee.”

Heeseung laughs as he pulls you closer into his chest under the covers, “C’mere, baby, let daddy take care of you.”

“Heeseung!”

Your bedroom is filled with laughter as you continued to talk about all the wasted time you two could have shared together if neither of you were so scared and stubborn. The rain was still pouring outside, trapping the two of you in your bedroom for days. With your hands intertwined and hearts pounding together.

Neither of you know what will happen when people find out the college prude is dating the notorious frat president, but neither of you cared, finding complete solace in each other. As you keep each other close, you know that you were no longer fighting the riptides of uncertainty alone, but together you will navigate the waters. Your connection was stronger than ever as you brace yourselves for whatever might happen in the unpredictable currents of life.

@ taeghi, 2023. do not repost or reuse in anyway.

stay safe everyone :)

#smut #enhypen #enhypen smut #heeseung smut #heeseung #hanbin

2K notes · View notes

palajae · 1 year

Text

hypegirl! | one.

PAIRING ▸ soccer player! niki x afab! reader

GENRE ▸ soccerl! au, roommates!au, romance, fluff, angst, humor

WORD COUNT ▸ 3.3k

SUMMARY ▸ all you want is to join the boys’ soccer team. all niki wants is to get minji’s attention. as roommates, what better than to strike a deal and help each other out? nothing really, except for one glaring issue: your blossoming feelings for said roommate. oh, and the fact that you’re technically supposed to be your brother, kim sunoo.

AKA a hopefully more sfw version of she's the man?

NOTES ▸ based off she’s the man (2006), reader is sunoo's sister and pretends to be her brother sunoo—let me know if there’s any typos!

masterlist. | next.

HE LOOKS JUST LIKE A DREAM.

so you’re practically drooling over your roommate, nishimura riki. a bit embarrassing, you know, but not as much as when you first started living with guys, in an all guys dorm, pretending to be…

a guy.

exactly how did you even get into this predicament? stuck hiding your feelings for your roommate that doesn’t even know that you’re utterly (and shamelessly) lying about your entire identity.

ah. that’s right. technically, you weren’t supposed to be at an all boys soccer camp.

even worse, you’re not supposed to be posing as the opposite gender. especially not as your older brother sunoo.

as roommates with riki for the entire summer, you’re not sure what you’re supposed to do—as kim sunoo and as you yourself.

growing up you always heard the same old remarks, about how much you and your older brother sunoo looked so much alike.

while you weren’t twins, you supposed you could see the resemblance. but you were you. and kim sunoo was kim sunoo.

along with the comments on your resemblance, you constantly remember hearing how sunoo was “so much more feminine” than you. sure you enjoyed more typical ”boy” activities, as the world defined it, but so what? what was with all the gender stereotyping?

growing up, you learned to deal with it. all that mattered was that you had a somewhat good childhood and relationship with your brother sunoo.

while your appearances may have been similar, your hobbies certainly weren’t.

your mother tried to push you toward the more artistic and creative side, which you didn’t exactly have a knack for. those kinds of things were more of sunoo’s style.

on the other hand, you were interested in more physical and hands on activities.

you enjoyed playing sports like soccer, while sunoo enjoyed singing and performing.

but there was one thing both you and sunoo inherited from your mother: stubbornness.

she constantly kept nudging you to those so called refined pastimes and away from said “dangerous” sports.

so no surprise came to you in the summer of your junior year when your mother informs you of your summer plans (that she apparently decided on her own).

you would be going to band camp, while sunoo went to soccer camp.

was she crazy?

your artistic skills couldn’t exactly be called skills—the last time you touched an instrument was three years ago—and sunoo could barely walk straight sometimes.

yours and sunoo’s protest fell on deaf ears.

“but mom! why can’t i go to soccer camp? you know our school has only a boys soccer team and i’ve been wanting to-“

she crosses her arms. “it’s a boys only camp, y/n. i want you to practice your musicality more and sunoo can make more friends at his camp. this will good for both of you. end of discussion.”

once summer came, you would go off to your respective camps and come back at the end of summer, hopefully still alive.

that was the plan—your mothers plan.

but not yours.

it didn’t take long for you to come up with what you thought (originally) was an ingenious idea.

you’ll pretend to be sunoo—that was the easiest part— and act as him to attend the soccer camp. in place of you, sunoo will go to yours as he wished. luckily for him, your band camp was for anyone, so it would be easier for him to fit in. a win-win situation, no?

this is the chance you’ve been waiting for. after years of disapproval from your parents and lack of formal soccer training and participation, you finally have a opportunity. in return, sunoo can just go as himself to your music camp and play it safe.

you figure you could just switch on the last day and keep each other updated so mom didn’t get suspicious.

when you voice this plan to your brother, being the goody two shoes he is, sunoo’s uncertain until you win him over with constant begging. not only did you inherit stubbornness but tenacity.

you figured you lived around and hung around enough guys to help you seem less suspicious. or at least, get by. if anything, you could text sunoo for help.

you were practically counting the days until you left. and with your wig, drawn in eyebrows, and shoulder pads, off you went.

you had to keep reminding yourself that from now on, you’re kim sunoo. it’s weird and a bit overwhelming at first, being surrounded by a bunch of sweaty, soccer playing guys who are obviously much more skilled and experienced than you.

you completely forgot about the whole living situation with dorms and a randomly assigned roommate. all your clothes were borrowed from sunoo, and all your personal products were stored in an hopefully inconspicuous black bag.

as you drag your heavy and totally not suspicious duffel bag into your given dorm, you soon stop in your tracks. you see a guy, as expected, but he’s—

shirtless?

your eyes widen, and you choke. he turns and you really try your best to focus on his face (and not his defined body). was it hot in here or just you?

he holds out a hand and you look at it, startled.

“hey, you must be my roommate. i’m riki but everyone calls me niki.”

man, why was his voice hot as well?

you clear your throat, finding it hard to focus around him.

“sup. i’m s-sunoo.”

“nice,” he nods.

you realize at that moment how sweaty you are due to stress and paranoia over getting caught, and he must as well due to his next words.

“you good, man? if you’re hot, i can turn up the air.”

you immediately shake your head, “no thanks, i’m good-“

“-dude,” you add as an afterthought. you cringe as niki shoots you a weird look before returning to his claimed bed.

you huff and dump your stuff onto your bed. what a start to the day.

after that, niki introduces you to his other two friends attending the camp as well who live across the hall—jungwon and jay.

you think you’re getting the hang of it, being your brother, but something about jungwon still makes you keep your guard up. the way he looked at you made you want to shrink up inside and curl into a ball.

as you finish unpacking your stuff, you hear the three of them talking out in the hall. it’s not loud, but still enough for you to eavesdrop. you can tell immediately by their strategizing that they’re good. and by default their team must be as well. they had to be—they even had a infamous name, for crying out loud.

enhypen. at first, you scoffed—what, were they like a boy band or something? but as you observed them play together during unofficial practices, their special ones that others couldn’t join, it hit you.

you knew you had to make their team. no matter what.

you know how this camp works, as the actual sunoo told you. all the boys at the camp would be divided up into teams based off preference, training, and coordination.

after teams were formed, they would practice together until the end of the camp where all teams would play off in a championship.

phones weren’t allowed either, except after hours at night. that would be your only chance to keep in touch with sunoo. besides that, you were on your own.

waking up at 6am everyday was tough.

training for hours in the sun with players who were much more stronger, skilled, and overall better than you was tough.

being surrounded by boys and having to be on guard all the time was tough.

but sneaking into to shower at night after everyone else was torture. the stink you had to endure 24/7 was bad, let alone all the other guys who caught a whiff too.

you’re sure most of the guys found you weird. it was weird learning how to live with guys, changing when niki wasn’t around or looking, sneaking all your personal hygiene care. there was a lot to get used to.

also, why were men’s restrooms so dirty sometimes?

you were stuck in hot, strenuous conditions outside almost all day. it was a norm, constantly getting yelled at by coaches and receiving harsh remarks from teammates.

but it’s everything you wanted.

you knew it made you better. you were getting better. but it wasn’t enough for niki’s team, you could tell. team decisions were coming up, and you needed to find a way to make the cut.

soon enough, a week into the camp, you found yourself getting somewhat adjusted. even thought you had like close to no friends, you felt less insecure… and more confident.

during a break while doing power shot drills, you gulp down water as your eyes wander. there were girls training on the other side of the field—lacrosse players. from then on, you observed that you would occasionally share the field with them. you usually watched them with envy, regretting picking up the first ball you saw when you were younger, a soccer ball.

you also observed how your roommate’s attention would be completely stolen by a certain someone playing lacrosse yards away.

his eyes would always follow her when the guys had a break, as his friends teased him and he blushed.

your eyes hardened at ‘minji’ or whoever you heard the guys whisper about. no, you weren’t jealous. why would you when you spoke a total of ten words per day to niki (more than any other guy at the camp)?

you were just irked. technically, you had no right to be jealous—since you weren’t even you. you were supposed to be your brother.

it’s only a day or two later that you see the girls training again. but it’s different this time. one of the male coaches calls all the soccer players on one side and the lacrosse players on the other side, all crowded together in a rough circle. you end up standing next to niki and follow his gaze to who do you know, minji.

the coach blows his whistle. “everyone listen up! we’re going to have a joint session today, with both the guys and girls. just conditioning today, but hopefully this will promote better teamwork and communication.”

whispers and groans erupt, but the whistle is blown again.

“one guy and girl will be assigned to each other, randomly. now find your partner and get to it!”

“you’re kidding. we have to train with girls?” you hear someone mutter and bite the inside of your cheek.

you already know this spells out disaster. soccer boys and lacrosse girls?

and it does, because your hear one of the assistants call out your (brother’s) name. you perk up, that is, until you hear who your partner is.

“-and kim minji!”

your mouth drops open.

you soon feel a pair (or more) of eyes burn into you. one particularly close.

“hey, sunoo…”

you almost forget to respond.

“…yeah?” you know what niki’s already going to say and it leaves a bitter aftertaste in your mouth.

“i was thinking we could like, you know, change partners-“

“kim sunoo! hurry up! your partners waiting!”

with helpless eyes, you have no choice but to jog over to said expecting person.

“hi,” she smiles and holds out a hand. you swallow.

dang, she was pretty. no need to explain why niki had a crush on her.

surprisingly, practicing with her went well. maybe a little too well. all you could remember was her nodding brightly and laughing at your jokes?

honestly you were just trying to ease the awkward atmosphere.

meanwhile, niki stares at the two of you in envy. he feels a ball hit him in the head.

“focus nishimura!”

that night, as you walk into your room freshly showered, you almost jump when you hear niki’s voice. you thought he would’ve been asleep by now, as you took your time waiting for everyone to leave the shower rooms.

“sunoo?”

you clear your throat, making your voice deeper. “what’s up?”

“i bet you already know, but i’m kinda into minji…”

you stifle the urge to roll your eyes. sure, she was pretty and all but why was he so obsessed? what was so much better about her than you?

“oh yeah?”

you can hear him sit up from his bed. “i know you guys are assigned partners and all, but you think we could switch?”

you fumble for words, “sorry but uh, i don’t think we can. i overheard someone else asking but coach said no exceptions.”

technically not a lie.

“dang. well, you think you could help me with her then? as friends?”

you raise an eyebrow even though he can’t see it. when were you guys friends?

“it depends, man…”

“all you gotta do is put in a good word,” he starts quickly. he keeps rambling on but you’re too busy laughing at his cuteness to pay attention to what he’s actually saying.

then it hits you. this is an opportunity.

“what’s in it for me?” you cut him off.

he pauses and you know this is your chance.

“if you put me in your team, i’ll talk to minji about you,” you state firmly.

“whoa, whoa, whoa!” you hear more shuffling and the lights suddenly turn on.

niki stares at you with wide eyes.

“you’re serious?”

you nod, crossing your arms. you feel uncertain, unconfident.

“i don’t think i can. like, it’s not really fair. plus you gotta meet our standards, you know. i can’t just let you in, you know. i mean, i can try… but that’s still no guarantee.”

you push your chin forward. “that’s not a deal, then.”

he sighs, rubbing his face. “i guess there’s only one other option.” you wait for him to speak.

he looks at you, as serious as ever. “i’ll train you. that’ll give you the best chance to make the cut. only if you’ll help me to the best of your ability too.”

“but this stays between us,” he adds.

you exhale. this was better than nothing.

“you got yourself a deal.”

the sparks when you shook hands were too much to brush off.

so began your late night practices with your roommate. something you couldn’t imagine doing the first week you got here.

niki’s good. at playing and at coaching.

he’s observant. he sees all your weaknesses and faults. and he isn’t afraid to call you out.

“get to the ball faster, kim.”

“ugly form. we need to change it.”

“how did you even make this camp?”

panting, you collapse onto the grass. what did you find attractive in this guy again?

you open your eyes and see a hand right in front of your face.

eyes fluttering, you take it as niki helps you up. but he uses a bit too much strength as you stumble forward into his arms. his eyes widen as you stare at him in surprise. you both take a few steps back.

“my bad. you’re way lighter than i thought.”

you clear your throat, trying to see unaffected. “i get that a lot.”

an uncertain silence fills the air as you gulp down water.

“it’s getting late, we should head back.”

you nod as you gather your stuff and it’s quiet again.

“good work today.”

you turn to him again with raised eyebrows but niki’s back is already facing you, making his way back to the dorms.

“you know niki?”

you ask in between breaths, tossing the medicine ball to minji.

“uhhh, the soccer player?”

she tosses it back to you.

you nod, turning to point him out a couple yards away training with his own partner.

“yeah. him.”

she shrugs, eyeing you. “i’ve heard of him, why? is there something i should know?”

“no-no! just wondering. he’s my friend and all, and i think he’s pretty cool. honestly, you guys would get along pretty well.”

“…okay?” she drags out the last syllable while shooting you a weird look.

this was going to be harder than you thought.

you sigh, patting the lotion into your face. at this point you had gotten used to the conditions at camp, being almost two weeks in. that also meant less than a week until team decisions.

you knew niki was skilled but as he teaches you tips and tricks the coaches don’t, you notice it. you can feel yourself getting better day by day as team selection day comes up. and others take note too.

but only you and niki share a smile.

thoughts consumed, you soon see a head pop into your peripheral vision.

an eyebrow of niki’s quirks up, “what is that?”

you jolt.

“skincare—it’s important for everyone!”

you defend quickly, and he laughs, causing your heart to stutter. “nah, i get it. i was asking because i need a better everyday sunscreen too.”

“oh,” you falter.

you show him unabashedly. “i heard it’s good- uh, from my sister.”

niki seems a lot more intrigued and it makes you smile.

“huh… how do they always find the good stuff?”

he snatches it from you and you roll your eyes.

practicing at night got you a lot closer to niki. it almost made you believe that you could make his team. not only was he a great teacher but overall, he was just a good person.

you learned early on that nishimura riki really wasn’t all that he seemed to be. he was much, much more playful than you originally assumed.

and much, much, more shyer.

especially around girls. especially about girls. that explained why he asked you—of all people—to help with minji.

niki acted so differently around you and the guys than with the lacrosse players. you could see it now. he was outgoing, funny, and not to mention way too much of a prankster with jay and jungwon (who you felt a bit more comfortable with too).

after all, jay was the one to tell you that niki would never be the one to approach, let alone talk to a girl first. or that he never had a girlfriend before, which surprised you.

you realize that niki is only acting like his real self around you because he thinks you’re a guy. it makes you wonder, how would he act around you as yourself?

knowing who you truly were?

“so….” niki starts off the next morning and you quirk an eyebrow.

“how’s it going with minji?”

oh, right. you almost forgot about that. you honestly didn’t want to mention anything about him to her, but a deal was a deal and you weren’t the type to go back on your word.

you rub your hands together, seemingly disappointed.

“i’m sorry man, but she doesn’t seem that interested. i’m not going to lie to you and sugarcoat things but i don’t want to pressure her too much either.”

he sighs. “i know. it’s just hard. i’m not good with talking to girls or anything like that.”

you hum, “i mean, i could help you if you want. like acting as a girl and taking you out to practice.”

“what?” he glances at you incredulously.

you quickly shake your head, “i mean- you know i have a sister. i, uh, kinda learned some things from her—about girls and stuff.”

he scratches his neck. “yeah, i guess so.”

you look around nonchalantly, “she’s around your age actually.”

at this point you can’t deny that you found your roommate quite attractive. in terms of appearance and personality. his true self was too endearing. and you liked it a little too much.

the more time you spend together, the more you realize you’re developing feelings for niki. as yourself.

and you’re supposed to be kim sunoo.

the next day, minji gives you a gatorade during practice. “good work today, sunoo!”

you nod back, “you too, minji.”

she looks around before deciding to sit down next to you. “you know, i think your tip really helped. i feel so much less sluggish and puffy in the morning.”

you zone out as she keeps going on.

“i don’t know how you know so much, but it’s really cool.”

she smiles her bright smile again as your eyes wander across the field. everyone else was still practicing, including niki.

you embarrassingly can’t keep your eyes off of him as you see him wipe the sweat off his face, shaking his hair free of the wetness.

“—sunoo?”

“huh?” you jump back to reality.

“did you hear me?” her big eyes blink back at you. “i was wondering if you wanted to hang out with our group tonight. you can invite some of your friends too.”

like the idiot you are, you reluctantly think of how great of an opportunity this is for niki.

“sure!”

“are you positive i look okay?”

you’ve never seen niki this nervous, not even on the first day when the coaches were screaming in your faces.

“yes,” you roll your eyes.

but a stray flyaway catches your eye.

“wait-“

you reach up to fix it and you hear his breath hitch.

“there you go. all nice and ready for minji,” you joke. he blinks before following you.

“sunoo!” minji waves excitedly at you while niki trails awkwardly behind. occasionally on the weekends, everyone would have free time to go into town and hang out. today was just your (un)lucky day to be with minji and her friends.

you can see some of them giggling and whispering behind her, and you figure it’s because of niki and jungwon. but they keep sending you looks, making uncomfortable shivers run down your back.

“what’s up?”

“we’re going to eat, and then maybe head to the arcade after?” you barely manage to nod before she happily grabs your hand out of the blue and drags you along.

you don’t think it’s going to plan, however. minji spent most of her time with you while you were trying (quote: trying) to be with niki. all while niki was trying to get closer to her.

minji was cool and all but you didn’t realize truly how much she talked to only you. she definitely wasn’t that friendly with everyone else, let alone niki and jungwon. so why did she keep such a close distance to you?

by the end of the night, you wave a halfhearted goodbye to her and her friends as they laugh and walk off.

sighing, you turn to niki who faces you with a skeptical look. “so… how was it?”

he shrugs, “it was nice, i guess. i feel like i didn’t get that many chances to talk to her, though.”

“no way, man. i think you guys hit it off pretty well. you just need to spend more time together. trust me, she’ll like you.”

you cringe internally at the words that leave your own mouth.

“you think so?” his eyes sparkle with hope.

it’s cute.

jungwon eyes you two warily. “you sure about that? i feel like she was spending a lot of time around you, sunoo.”

you’re quick to deny, “that’s just cause she’s known me longer. of course you’d be more comfortable with someone you already talked to.”

you nod at niki for reassurance. for him or for yourself, you’re not sure.

it’s dark out. you had to wait for everyone else to head to bed before answering your mother’s call.

“-so late?”

you roll your eyes, lazily kicking the grass with your foot outside on campus.

“practice ran later today.”

you hear her sigh from the other end. “whatever. i’m sending it to you then.”

“mom,” you whine, “i don’t want to wear a dress for the performance.”

“i have work that day sweetie. you know i won’t be able to see you, so please just wear the dress. pictures are getting taken. okay? i’m getting it sent to your camp so no more arguing.”

you stomp your foot.

“fine. and no, i will not wear high heels.”

unbeknownst to you, a hidden figure crouches in a near bush.

taehyun always felt like there was something fishy about you. from the first day on the camp when he locked eyes with you.

the way you immediately looked away—you simply seemed so skittish, so out of place. there was just something fishy about you and he began to do more research.

not only that, he saw how close you looked with kim minji. the girl he had liked for years, having come to the same respective camps previously. your new face was too suspicious to not investigate.

after hearing some parts of your conversation with what sounded like your mom, he vows to do more work to find out the truth.

whatever the truth was about you, kim sunoo.

MAIN TAGLIST ▸ @precioussoulofmine @kynrki @heesterical @jungwonize @rerequire @nvertheless @duolingofanaccount @hoeshii @love-4-keum @nyanggk @luvhyun3 @dimplewonie @yjjungwon @flwrshee

@kflixnet

SERIES TAGLIST ▸ @lwavander @eumpapas @eloelooo @shoyotime @heatrache @harufluff @kjrcrz @kpopstanmeg @luvkpopp @dolphinsswimming @yunicide @nunugget @kyanmeai @enhastolemyheart @j-wyoung @imhuh @yinviyang

@microwvdstrawb3rri3s @k25vi

send an ask/message to be added to the taglist ^^

#enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #enhypenwriters #niki x reader #niki x you #niki fluff #nishimura riki #niki imagines #nishimura riki x you

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jhoneybees · 7 months

Text

Obsession?

Alright! It's back and ready for you all to read! So this one isn't like my other fluffy fics but a spicy type(my first ever!) so if you're looking for a fluffy fic, this one might not be it 😅 My girl @elvisalltheway101 helped me with this and I'm so thankful, mwah mwah to you sista🫶

Thank you so much for your patience!

Characters: 50s!Elvis X reader

Warnings/triggers: spicy fic, mentions of y/n, crying, swearing, Elvis being obsessed, mentions of worship, sub!elvis???, obsession talk, mentions of God

_____________________________________________

There’s just something about you that makes Elvis go weak in the knees. He doesn’t know what it could be that attracted him so much but everytime he tries to find the possible answers, his brain just goes static when his thoughts gradually form into a daydream about when you would pass-by giving him one of those gorgeous smiles of yours or when you would stare into eachothers eyes for a split second, even when he watched you from afar as you laughed with the middle aged women at church and wearing that damn dress that made you look too tempting for your own good at a party you two were invited to.

Elvis' heart and brain might not know that he’s obsessing but that occasional stir in his stomach sure does, It’s almost like he’s worshiping you but how can he not? Your humor, your kind-heartedness, your attentive nature, your eyes, your hair, your voice, your smile lines, your pores, your breathing, your lips, they’re all better than any morning coffee, any fulfilling meal and it sure doesn’t help him when you would ask the simplest of questions like “Sugar in your coffee?” or “How was your day today, Presley?” with that pretty voice it turns him into a blushing, stuttering, shaking mess and when he would get a glimpse of you everytime he walks past the diner you work at.

Boy his heart starts racing like he’s about to have a heart attack.

It’s been so agonizing for him because he’s had a crush on you for as long as he can remember, the first day of Junior year. Others may say to just ask you out and see what happens but to him he can’t do that, how could he? He may act all confident and slick in his daily daydreams of you but in reality he’s just a mere country boy with a funny sense of style and girly eyelashes that everyone laughs at and your the Preacher’s daughter who everyone loves, who couldn’t possibly like someone as foolish as him, you’re divine and he’s just…well him.

But he feels like something’s gonna happen.

He just can’t quite put a finger on it.

One day as he browses around the Memphis record shop, he accidentally gets nudged. looking up to be blessed by those Godly angel eyes. “Oh I’m so sorry! I didn’t see-” His heart skips a beat “Elvis, Hi! It’s been a while”

God must be watching over me.

“Hello?” Elvis shaking his head out of his trance with a sharp inhale “H-Hi” seeing a soft smile grow on your face “How are you?” Elvis grins shyly and scratches the back of his neck “Uh..I-I’m good” his eyes averting away but snap back to yours as he straightens up “H-how are you?” mentally cringing to himself.

“I’m great, Thank you for asking”

You thanked him, you wasted an ounce of that precious voice of yours to Thank him.

By this point, the record he’s holding slips out of his hand, just for a moment he realizes and with a clumsy attempt of trying to catch it, he accidentally steps on it the wrong way causing the record to break.

“Shit-” he swears under his breath, hearing you gasp quietly “Oh…” crouching down to pick the damaged record up. He sighs and moves his hand to grab his wallet from his pocket only for him to notice it’s not there, his eyes widen to which your eyebrows raise slightly “Did you leave your wallet behind?” he glances at you and quickly looks away ”Uh-'' feeling your hand touch his arm making him gulp “Hey, I can pay for the record..” you offer softly, his eyebrows furrow and his head turns up at you “No, it’s-”

“I insist”

_____________________________________________

“Thank- thank you for paying for that, I-I-I-I’ll have ta pay you back somehow” Elvis’ voice falling soft as he nears the end of his sentence making you smile “Don't mention it, wouldn't want you getting in trouble” a happy angelic laugh fills his ears, his brain going fuzzy as he looks at you through his lashes, falling into a short trance until your voice snaps him out of it “Well I better get going” Elvis clears his throat following with a nod, Seeing your small wave but the moment your head turns the other way, his gut feeling urges him to yell out “Wait Y/n!”

Oh God.

“Yeah?” his hand moving to scratch the back of his neck and his eardrums hearing the bottom of your shoe scraping along the concrete as you come to a halt “Um…To- to pay you back…” stuffing his hand in his pocket. His heart punching him in his chest.

Oh Lordy Lord.

“Can I take you out?”

Oh why did I say it like that?

His heart ringing wedding bells as a giggle emits through your lips and his breath stills when you nod quietly “Of course, that'll be very nice, Elvis” his knees are damn. near. weak. Nodding his head silently with his crooked smile showing “Uhm…at 6?....I’ll..I’ll pick you up” he questions to which you nod again.

Did I just?

You walk away the second time, his eyes brightening as you look over your shoulder.

“See you then, Presley”

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It feels like a dream, how did he manage to ask you out, for you to agree? God, Elvis hopes he doesn’t wake up from this dream, if it is even one.

His palms rubbing along his slacks as his eyes try to stay watching the movie on the screen. By now he's lost the plot of the movie because of his thoughts.

He's alone with you in his daddy’s car.

And lord his nerves are kicking him like crazy.

Leg bouncing nervously and a deep breath escapes his mouth. He's trying, he’s trying to keep his attention on the movie but he’s on a date with you-

a hand falling on his knee and his eyes trail up an arm, landing on your eyes that he couldn't help but soften at.

“About to make a hole in the floor soon” you laugh, making him clear his throat and smile shyly “M’sorry” once again blessed by your smile “It's alright…you seem a little distracted, is everything ok?” pressing his lips together tightly as your eyebrows furrow, shaking his head “Oh, no it's nothin’ “ he inhales deeply when you quirk an eyebrow “You sure?” he nods.

Stupid.

Be. more. discreet.

Elvis turns his head to look out the side window as your attention falls back on the movie then as he begins to bite his nails, sinking into his seat a little, he freezes as he feels your knee gently tap against the side of his thigh, gulping and pushing himself back up to sit up properly, resting his arm on the car door and wiping his palm on his slacks.

“Are you sure you're ok? You seem to be a little off, Elvis” his head whipping towards you “I-I'm fine, really” looking at each of your eyes with so much adoration as your words flow off your tongue “You can tell me…” you say with a slight smile.

A big gulp.

Elvis lowers his head and looks at the floor of the car “It's noth-...” glancing at you as you sit up in your seat, facing him, waiting patiently.

His eyes avert from yours and his heart beats out of his chest, mentally cursing to himself as his hands grow increasingly more sweaty. He’s been dreaming of this moment and he’s been praying for this to happen but…He’s scared-

“I like you”

Glancing up to see your eyes widen, surprised.

He said it.

It's out in the open, he can't take it back.

“Elvis…” your voice soft and quiet, his vision turning back to the floor, brimming with tears “...I’m sorry” his voice quiet, picking at the fabric of his slacks, bringing his palm up to wipe at the tears that manage to escape.

Then…

He feels a hand smooth along the front of his neck, cupping his jaw with a thumb on one side and two fingers on the other. Forcing him to turn his head, His voice releasing a pained whimper of his heart clenching at the sight of your angelically sculpted face.

His breath hitches as you suddenly ever so gently, plant your soft lips on his, closing his eyes. A single tear falling down his cheek.

Absolute. Pure. Bliss.

The slightest his hands begin to tremble as his skin tingles from your exhale through your nose. His spine shivers as your hands cup his cheeks, pulling him closer to bring his lips further onto yours making you lean back a little.

A small whine emitting through his lips as you pull away breathlessly, Elvis looking into your eyes “Y/n…” your eyes that could outshine any jewel before shakily slithering his hands around your waist, pulling you into another kiss. His eyebrows frowning and his body physically melting as you hum against him.

He hums softly, out of nowhere feeling your knee pushing in between his legs, causing him to moan.

With a soft push on his chest, Elvis leans back against the pillar between the car seat and the car door, the sound of your lips separating filling the car as you lean down to peck along his jaw, Elvis' breath hitching and sighing. With shaky hands squeezing your waist gently for you to push your knee in between his legs again with a little more pressure.

Oh Lord, help me.

His stomach fills with butterflies as you nip at his jaw a little and your hands brushing down his neck down to his belt to pull his shirt out of his pants, his breath stutters as you slide your hands under to rub against his tummy, your soft lips returning to his. Hands traveling up to lightly graze over his nipples, making him squirm.

Feeling you smirk against him, A very unexpected noise escapes his body as your palm presses on his manhood, slowly adding pressure, his breathing frantic and groans squeezing out of his throat.

Elvis inhales sharply as you shift onto his lap, his puppy eyes looking straight up into yours as your lips separate, seeing you in front of him, your bodies just a few inches apart.

Tears building up in his eyes, he glides his hands down to your hips, almost about to sob at the feeling of you as he gives you a little squeeze.

Gulping before saying just above a whisper “You’re so beautiful…”

His eyes roaming all over your body from your neck, down to your chest then to his hands on your hips but as he caresses you with his thumbs, his head gets lifted by your finger under his chin. Shocked to find a glimmer of lust, a need but also a sparkle of kindness…Love.

His breath drains out of him as you lift his hand in your small ones, kissing each of his fingers, making sure to keep his eyes on you.

“Take me, Presley”

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READ PART 2!!! Written by @elvisalltheway101

😵‍💫Addiction😵‍💫

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis fans #elvis imagine #50s elvis #i love him #elvis presley x reader #elvis fandom #elvis fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis smut

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gunilslaugh · 5 months

Text

Cassette Playlist

Goo Gunil

Summary: Your mom’s old cassette player somehow sent you back to the summer of 1990, where you meet a goofy, yet confident guy. Who might make it hard to leave. (non-idol au)

WC:11.6k

Warning:none

If this flops I'm never writing a long fic ever again lol

photo not mine credits to owner.

CRASH! SNAP! CRACK! Panic rages through your body as you stare at your mom’s old cassette player that is now in pieces.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“And why exactly have you decided to take a trip down memory lane?” you asked your mom. Letting out a heave as you set the heavy box down on your mom’s bed.

“I watched Jetsons: The Movie yesterday and it got me feeling nostalgic,” your mom answers you, taking off the lid to the box. “My old cassette player!” your mom called out excitedly as she pulled the old device from the box. “I used to use this all the time,” she tells you.

“I can tell. You used it so much it cracked.” You pointed to the crack that ran across the lid to insert a cassette.

“I don’t remember it having a crack actually.” Your mom scratched her head trying to remember if she was forgetting how the player got the crack.

“Maybe it happened while it was stored. We’re not always gentle with these boxes,” you chuckled.

“You’re right that could be what happened. We should be more gentle with these,” she states gesturing to the boxes.

“I wonder if it still works?” you wondered, taking the cassette player from your mom.

“It would definitely need batteries,” she says tapping the battery compartment. “We don’t have the type of batteries it takes right now. I’ll pick some up when I go to the store.”

“You still remember what batteries it takes?” You raised one of your eyebrows in shock. Your mom laughs.

“I told you I used to use it all the time. I’ll probably never forget what batteries it takes. I bet I could still use this in my sleep,” she affirms.

“I might have to test you on that,” you said playfully. Your mom smiles and shakes her head, looking into the box again. You join her in looking at the contents of the box. “Is this your year book?” you questioned pulling the book from the box.

“Yeah it’s from my junior year? I think.” You open the book, flipping through its pages. You stopped flipping through the pages when a picture of your mom with some guy caught your attention. Your mom had her arms affectionately wrapped around the guy’s middle. Her head tilted in the direction of the guy too.

“And who is this? One of your old boyfriends?” You nudge your mom with your elbow, showing her the picture.

“Oh um I think his name started with a G. I can’t remember right now, but no he wasn’t my boyfriend, not even a friend really. He was more like a nice acquaintance,” she informs.

“So this picture is just for show?” you said.

“Pretty much. That was the first day we met actually,” she tells you. You look at her with your head tilting to the side, as if asking her to explain more.

“He came up behind me and gave me a really tight back hug. I pushed him away harshly because I didn’t know who he was. Then he began to profusely apologize explaining that he mistook me for someone else,” your mom tells you the story.

“Oh my gosh that’s embarrassing. I would have died if I was him,” you laughed.

“Yeah I felt bad for him. Anyway people for the yearbook were coming around, so I pulled him into this side hug to make us even,” she further explained.

“How kind of you,” you remarked half sarcastically. To which your mom playfully shrugged in response. “Did he ever say who he mistook you for?” you questioned.

“You’re so nosy and no I never asked,” she tells you.

“Oh.” you look back down at the picture, wondering who this guy could have mistook your mom for.

After taking the little trip down memory lane you and your mom put the aged objects back inside the boxes, leaving out the cassette player since your mom was going to pick up batteries for it. Then you returned the boxes back to their places in the top shelf of the closet. Proceeding you returned to your bedroom to carry on with your day. You hopped onto your bed, opening your laptop to look for a show to watch.

Later in the day your mom returned home from running some errands: buying groceries and batteries. You helped your mom put the groceries away. Once all the groceries were placed in their spots your mom excitedly ran to her bedroom to grab her old cassette player.

“You’re like an excited kid who’s ready to play with their new toy,” you remark. “Well, I guess it’s an old toy in this case,” you added.

“I am excited,” she states matter-of-factly, opening up the batteries she recently bought. She then opens the battery compartment of the cassette player and carefully places the batteries inside, making sure they're facing the right direction. Succeeding hearing the satisfying click of the battery compartment closing your mom eagerly places one of the headphones into her ear then holds out the other one for you. You take it from her hand and place it into your ear. She looks at you to make sure you’re ready with her finger hovering over the play button. You nodded at her in confirmation and with that your mom pressed the button. Music began to play from the head phones filling the two of your ears. Your mom begins to excitedly jump up and down at her favorite nostalgic item still working. A smile makes its way to your face as you watch your mom’s happiness. While feeling impressed that the old device still works.

“This brings back memories,” your mom says reminiscently as she listens to the song.

“This song is nice,” you comment.

“You like it?” your mom asked. You nodded your head.

“You should keep this for a while then,” she suggested.

“Huh? Why?” Your eyebrows raised in confusion.

“It made me really happy as a teen. I would like to make you happy too. You’re a bit older than I was when I first got it, but that’s ok,” she explains.

“Ok sure, why not?” you agreed.

“Ooh I’ll go grab my other cassette so you can listen to them,” she takes the headphone from her ear before scurrying off to go grab the cassette. When she returns with the cassettes in hand she hands them over with a smile. You didn’t really know how much you would use the cassette player, but you figured you could at least listen to each cassette once. See what kind of music your mom used to listen to. You hit the stop of the cassette player and took off your headphone. You wrapped the headphones around the player as you walked to your room. You set the player on your bedside dresser planning to listen to it later.

Later in the evening you helped your mom make dinner. While waiting for your dad to get back from work. Your dad got home while you were dishing up dinner.

“Perfect timing,” your mom said, greeting him. You all sat at the table together. “I gave y/n my old cassette player today,” your mom tells.

“Oh really? That thing still works?” your dad asked surprised.

“Just like it used to,” your mom says.

“Except for the crack across the front,” you said.

“I told you I don’t remember it having a crack. It’s a mystery how it got there,” she states.

“Guess we’ll never know,” your dad shrugged. You all continued to eat, having the occasional side conversation. After dinner you did the dishes then headed to your room. You sat down on your bed. Your eyes fell over to your mom’s old cassette player. You reached over to your dresser and grabbed it, unwrapping the headphones around it. You put one headphone in each ear and hit play on the cassette. Music filled your ears and you rested against your headboard becoming fully immersed in the music. A couple songs played then you came across a song that you really liked. You wanted to listen to it again so you hit the rewind button, but nothing happened. You hit it again and once more nothing happened. You tried again only to be met with the same result. Growing a bit frustrated you smack the cassette player in hopes of getting it to work. You hit the rewind button another time and this time you hear the song begin to reverse. However your room began to look blurry. Like when you pass by something really fast. Then suddenly it all stopped and you were standing in a park? There were some kids running around playing on some playground equipment. Parents sitting on benches. A couple teenage boys were kicking a ball around out in the open grass. You walked around the park stopping under the shade of a tree, trying to gather your senses. Did you fall asleep while you were listening to the cassette? That’s when you notice that the cassette is in your hand and headphones are still in your ears. Much to your surprise the cassette player had been fixed. There was no longer a crack running across it. How was that possible? Was this all just a dream? Right then a ball lands by your feet.

“Sorry, could you kick it back please?” you hear. You looked up to see one of the teenage boys. You looked back down at the ball then back at the boy. You gave the ball a swift kick sending it back over. “Thanks!” the boy shouted. You nodded in response. Quickly you went back to trying to figure out what was going on. This didn’t really feel like it was a dream, but what else could it be? You look around at your surroundings again. This time you notice that all the clothes people are wearing look like they're from the 90s. Certainly this was all a really weird dream. You began to leave the park not really knowing where you were going. Just trying to find some answers. Hopefully some confirmation that this was all indeed one weird dream. As you were walking you happened to come across a discarded newspaper. You pick it up and flip it around. Your eyes widened as they saw the date: June 3, 1990. You couldn’t really be back in the 90s could you? No, that would be crazy and impossible. There was absolutely no way. Your heart began to pound in fear. If you were really back in the 1990, what were you supposed to do? How did you get here? More importantly, how were you going to get home? You started to rack your brain. That’s when it hit you, the cassette player. You were trying to get the rewind button to work when you were suddenly transported here. You quickly brought up the cassette player. If rewind brought you back to the past then fast forward should send you to the future as in back home. You couldn't hit the play and fast forward button soon enough. However much to your dismay it didn’t work. Well technically it did work. The song you were listening to began to speed up and fast forward, but you didn’t go anywhere. You weren’t back in your room. You were still standing about a block away from the park. You felt like crying, sinking down into the concrete pavement.

“Oh hey it’s you again,” you heard a familiar voice. You look up to see the teenage boy from the park again.

“Hey,” you replied.

“Why are you just sitting here?” he asked. Oh you know just having a crisis. No big deal.

“Just…thinking.” is the word you decide to go with.

“Shouldn’t you be headed home? It will be dark soon.” You didn’t even notice the setting sun.

“Oh um…” If you could you would and really wish that you could.

“Are you new around here? I don’t think I’ve seen you before?” he questioned.

“Yeah I just got here,” you tell him. The boy has no clue how literal your statement is.

“Are you lost then? I can walk you home if you want? Just tell me your address,” he offered.

“No, that’s ok.” I don’t have a home to go to.

“Did you run away from home?” he gasped.

“What? No! I didn't, it's not like-” you sighed. “You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you,” you say.

“Try me?” he challenged.

“Fine. I time traveled from the future,” you told him seriously. The boy looked at you for a few seconds before bursting out into laughter.

“Oh, that’s a good one. Seriously, did you get in a fight with your parents or something?” He takes a seat beside you on the pavement.

“Told you wouldn’t believe me,” you said. “Just go home, don’t worry about me.” Sensing your upsetness he decides to give you the upper hand.

“Ok, let’s say I believe you. How did you get here and from where,when?” he questions.

“I’m from 2024. My mom’s old cassette player somehow brought me back in time. I know that sounds crazy because it is, but it’s true,” you explained.

“This cassette player?” He points to the cassette player in your hand.

“Yeah.” You held it up a bit.

“Can I see it?” He held his hands out.

“Knock yourself out.” You handed the player over to him. At first he only glances over it, yet he begins to squint at the clear plastic lid of the cassette player. He proceeded to hit the open button on the lid. “What are you-”

“1993.” you hear him murmur.

“What?” you asked.

“1993,” he repeated.

“What about it?”

“It’s 1990,” he reminded you. That’s when it clicked.

“It’s 1990 and this cassette is from 1993!” you said excitedly. “You believe me now right?” you questioned hopefully.

“Well it’s not, what did you say 2024?” You nodded. “But it is evidence that you are from the future, so…yeah I believe you,” he tells you.

“Oh thank you!” you tell him.

“So what are you gonna do?” he questioned handing you the cassette player back. Your excitement faded away as quickly as it came.

“I don’t know. I just wanna go home,” you answered. The boy looks at you sympathetically. He has no idea how you must feel right now, but it’s clear that you're very stressed about your situation.

“How about you come stay with me. I could help you figure out how to get home,” he suggested.

“Thanks, but would your parents be ok with you bringing some random girl home?” you ask.

“I’ll tell them that you’re a friend who needs a place to stay for a while,” he tells you.

“What if they ask about my parents? I mean they…haven’t even met yet. They’re both teenagers right now.” The gravity of your situation hits you even more.

“We can figure that out later. Sitting on a sidewalk isn’t going to solve anything though, so will you come?” he questioned. You thought for a moment. It’s not like you had a better option.

“You’re sure it’s ok for me to stay with you?” you double checked.

“Absolutely we have a guest room that you can stay in,” he tells you.

“Ok thanks uh… you’re?” Something hits you while you’re looking at the guy, whom you didn’t know the name of. He looked just like the guy from the yearbook photo with your mom. “Something with a G” you mouthed recalling your mom’s words.

“Oh that’s right we kinda skipped over introductions. I’m Gunil,” he introduced himself, sticking out his hand.

“Gunil, with a G,” you didn’t mean to say it outloud.

“Yep with a G. I don’t think it would quite work with a J,” he joked lightheartedly.

“I’m y/n,” you introduced yourself and finally shook his outstretched hand. That had been waiting an awkwardly long time.

“Let’s go y/n.” He stands up from the pavement, dusting off his pants. Then he sticks out his hand to help you up. You take his hand standing up. You still had no clue how you were going to get home, but at least you had someone who was willing to help.

The walk to Gunil’s house didn’t take too long. He lived relatively close to the park.

“This is it,” Gunil announced when you reached the bottom of his driveway. You felt your nerves begin to bubble up again.

“Are you sure this is ok? I can figure something else out,” you say feeling uneasy.

“Like what? Sleeping on a park bench? I assure you it's fine. Now come on.” Gunil starts to walk up his driveway. You follow behind him, nervously fiddling with your hands. “Mom I’m back and-”

“You have a guest,” his mom finished his sentence. After seeing you standing behind him in the doorway.

“This is my friend y/n and they need a place to stay for a bit,” Gunil said sheepishly.

“Oh, of course you friends are always welcome here, you know that,” his mom smiled.

“Thank you,” you thanked her.

“Sure thing sweetie, but Gunil, is there any reason why we haven’t met her before?” his mom asks.

“Have you been hiding her from us?” His dad now joined the conversation with a teasing tone.

“What? No I haven’t it-” Gunil began to sputter, feeling flustered by his dad’s teasing.

“It’s because I only moved here recently,” you saved.

“Oh I see. I hope you like it here, but if you’re going to stay with us why don’t you have a bag? Certainly you need more than just a cassette player.” Gunil’s mom looked around for your belongings.

“I wanted to get permission first. I can go pack my stuff tomorrow,” you told her. You felt your heart pounding.

“That’s right. I tried to tell her that you would understand, but she didn’t want to intrude,” Gunil backed you up.

“You’re just a sweet little thing aren’t you? Come on, dinner is ready. I’m sure you both are hungry.” She guides both you and Gunil to the kitchen table. You felt awkward as you sat next to Gunil at the table.

“So y/n where did you move from?” Gunil’s dad questioned you, trying to create some small talk.

You swear you could feel Gunil tense up beside you.

“Michigan.” Why was that the first place that popped into your head?

“Did you like it there?” he followed up.

“The lakes were really pretty,” you said the one thing you knew about Michigan.

“Oh yes! I’ve seen pictures of Lake Michigan I would love to see it in person one day,” Gunil’s mom chimed in.

“Dinner is really good Mrs. Goo. Thank you,” you state, trying to change the topic.

“I’m already letting you stay here. There is no need to butter me up.”

“I’m not,” you pronounced, shaking your head.

“I like her,” Gunil’s mom says and shoots Gunil a look. To which Gunil quickly shakes his head at his mother. A silent plea to ask her to stop. His mother laughs lightly at him. Thankfully you aren’t asked anymore questions throughout the rest of dinner.

After dinner Gunil showed you the guest room. His mom came into the room holding some pajamas.

“They might not fit perfectly, but they should be ok for the night.” She smiled at you as she handed them over.

“Oh, thank you. You didn’t have to,” you said, taking them from her.

“Don’t be silly. You’re our guest. You should be comfortable,” she insisted.

“Well thanks again,” you say. Gunil’s mom then steps out of the room, leaving just you and Gunil.

“My room is right next door”– Gunil pointed towards his room– “And the bathroom is right across the hall. Let me know if you need anything,” he told you.

“Mmh, thank you” you nod your head.

“No problem.” Gunil turned around and left the room. You looked at the cassette player sitting on the bed. You walked over to the bed, setting down the pajamas that were in your hand to pick up the cassette player.

“Can’t you just take me home?” you said to the old or you guess it’s not so old right now cassette player. “Please,” you begged, placing a headphone in your ear. You placed in the other one and hit play. Music filled your ears. You pressed the fast forward button, the song played faster. You sighed. Your finger now hovers over the rewind button. What if you hit it and it sends you even farther back in the past? However, on the other hand, what if it sent you home? You took a breath, closed your eyes and hit the rewind button. The song began to rewind. You carefully popped one eye open. Nothing happened, you were still in the guest room. Feeling defeated, you pulled the headphones out of your ears. You changed into the pajamas Gunil’s mom had given you. She was right they weren’t a perfect fit, but they would do.

Later in the night Gunil’s mom stopped by your door to wish you goodnight. Before you could respond to her you hear Gunil yelling you a goodnight as well through the thin walls. You yelled him a goodnight back which made his mom laugh. Then you wished her a goodnight as well. You made yourself comfortable underneath the covers. Closing your eyes and waiting for sleep to take you away and hopefully back home somehow.

Upon waking up in the morning it takes you a second to remember where you are. Once you see your mom’s cassette player sitting on the edge of the bed you remember. You were still stuck in 1990. You sat up on the bed not quite knowing what to do. It would be awkward if you just walked out of the room as you are right now right? What if Gunil wasn’t up yet then you would be stuck with his parents. That didn’t seem all that ideal. Your bladder apparently had an answer for you though. The bathroom was right across the hall from you. You would just have to do a quick in and out. You opted for getting dressed first, changing back into the clothes you were wearing yesterday. You carefully opened the door as silently as possible, peeking your head out. When you didn’t see anyone you quickly beelined into the bathroom. You were ready to beeline back to your room however right when you opened the bathroom door someone called you.

“Oh y/n you’re up. How’d you sleep?” Gunil’s mom asked you. You awkwardly stepped into the hallway.

“I slept good, thanks. You?” you returned.

“I slept good too. Gunil is still sleeping, but I can wake him up if you want,” she offered.

“That’s ok he can keep sleeping,” you told her. You kinda regretted it though. Maybe it would be better to just wake him up.

“You can come out to the living room. I’m almost done making breakfast,” she tells you. You awkwardly followed her out to the living room. Where you now see Gunil’s dad sitting in the chair. He bid you a good morning as you did to him in return. You tentatively took a seat on the couch.

“Y/n you never told us why you’re staying with us,” he dad said. You feel your heartbeat pick up as you took a moment to think.

“...Oh my parents are out of town and I don’t feel comfortable staying in our new house by myself yet,” you explained.

“What’d they go out of town for?” He was probably just trying to make conversation, but you really wish he wasn’t.

“Work.” That sounded reasonable enough, you thought.

“What do they do for work?” It was too early for your brain to make up these fake answers.

“They work for a cassette manufacturer.” Gunil answered for you emerging from the hallway. He came and took a seat next to you on the couch. He was still wearing his pajamas and his hair was a bit messy. He looked oddly cute.

“Gunil you’re up just in time. Breakfast is ready,” his mom informed, coming into the living room.

You guys all headed to the kitchen, sitting down and eating the breakfast that Gunil’s mom had made.

“Thanks for breakfast mom. I’m gonna go change then I’ll take y/n to go pack her things,” Gunil stated. Just like that Gunil whisked away to his room. You returned to the guest room to grab the cassette player. You had barely grabbed the cassette player when Gunil appeared in the doorway.

“You ready?” he checked.

“That was fast,” you remarked, taking in his tidied up appearance. His hair was no longer messy and he swapped his pajamas for a black t-shirt and jeans.

“I didn’t want you to wait,” he told you.

“Thanks, and yeah I’m ready,” you answered him. The two of you walked out of Gunil’s house. “Gunil how are we gonna pack my things when I have no things to pack?” you questioned once you two reached the end of his driveway. Gunil reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.

“We have some shopping to do.” He waved his wallet around.

“Gunil no,” you say, footsteps coming to a stop. Gunil lets out a sigh. His footsteps coming to a stop as well.

“Do you have a better idea? You can’t exactly wear the same clothes everyday,” he pointed out.

“I know that, but I feel bad having you spend money on me,” you explained. Gunil takes a couple steps closer to you.

“Don’t feel bad. I want to. I’ve been wanting to go shopping anyway, so this is the perfect opportunity,” he tells you.

“Still, won’t it be too much-”

“Shush, your only concern should be figuring out how to get back home. Let me take care of the rest,” he silenced you. He swings one of his arms around your shoulder prompting you to start walking again. When you try to refute again he simply shushes you more.

“Can I ask where we’re going then?” you questioned. You turned your head to look at Gunil, who still had his arm wrapped around your shoulder.

“The mall. It’ll have everything we need,” Gunil answered casually.

“I haven’t been to the mall in ages,” you say.

“Really? Are malls not that popular in the future?” Gunil asked with slightly widened eyes.

“I don’t think they're as popular as they used to be, but plenty of people still go to them,” you answered. Gunil nods at your answer. “How far is the mall?” you asked.

“About a twenty minute walk,” Gunil answered.

“Wanna listen to music?” You held up the cassette player.

“Are you sure it won’t send us to the past?” Gunil jokes. You scoffed.

“Honestly no I can’t be sure, but it should be fine,” you say.

“I’ll risk it.” Gunil reaches to take one of the headphones and puts it in his ear. You put the other one in your ear. You hit play on the cassette player, letting the music fill either of yours and Gunil’s ears. To any onlookers you and Gunil probably look like a couple. With Gunil’s arm that he is yet to remove from around your shoulders and now sharing headphones on top of it. You felt oddly comfortable though. This is probably the most relaxed you felt since you had arrived in 1990.

Upon arriving at the mall both you and Gunil remove the headphones from your ears. Gunil’s arm finally leaves your shoulders. It’s not until he removed his arm that you realized it was there the entire time. Gunil finds that his arm now feels empty that it’s not wrapped around you.

“Where to first?” you questioned as the two of you walked inside the entrance of the mall.

“I was thinking we should probably get you a bag first, then we can go get you some clothes,” he tells you.

“Sounds good,” you agreed. Gunil led you to a shop that had a collection of bags that you could choose from. You ended up picking a blue duffle bag that had teal carrying straps. Next, Gunil takes you to a clothing store. He asked you about your preferences for what types of clothes you like to wear then proceeded to help you pick out some outfits.

“How about this one?” Gunil asked, holding up a shirt in a color you specifically told him you disliked. You make a very unimpressed face at him.

“Gunil, I specifically told you I don’t like that color,” you told him.

“Why? I think it suits you. You look pretty.” He steps closer to you, holding the shirt up to your frame. You feel a warmth trying to make its way to your cheeks. You shook it off.

“Gunil, no.” You pushed the shirt away from your frame.

“Come on please. I’m buying anyway,” he pointed. He kinda had you there. He was paying for all your things, so you felt like the least you could do is get something that he liked. Even if it wasn’t something you would pick for yourself.

“Fine, but don’t keep using that against me.” You pointed a finger at him. Gunil raised his hands in a playful surrender.

“Ok, I won’t,” he said, happily tossing the shirt with the other clothes you were getting.

Three shops later you convinced Gunil that you really didn’t need anymore stuff. He seemed reluctant, but agreed with you. He insisted that you two get some food before you head back to his place though. You couldn’t deny that all the shopping didn’t work up your appetite, so you and Gunil made your way over to the food court. The two of you got food from a place that Gunil recommended. After getting your food you walked over to the seating area.

“So how are you liking the 90s mall experience?” Gunil questioned making you laugh.

“I mean, I don't think it's that different from a modern day mall, but it’s nice,” you say.

“Yo Gunil! You didn’t tell us you were coming here today. Oh who’s this?” One of, who are assuming, is Gunil’s friends asked.

“This is y/n. They’re new around here,” Gunil introduced.

“She looks kinda familiar,” one of the notes.

“I was thinking the same thing,” another one says.

“The park!” One exclaimed pointing at you. “She’s the one who kicked the ball back to us.”

“Oh, that’s right.”

“You mean they’re the one-”

“What are you guys doing here?” Gunil cut his friend off.

“We were gonna see if they have any new music at the music shop,” One answered.

“Well then don’t let us stop you guys,” Gunil motioned for them to get going.

“Wait! Wait! Wait! We haven’t introduced ourselves yet,” one says. “I’m Jooyeon,” he introduced himself.

“I’m Jiseok,” another one said.

“Seungmin.” The boy gave you a half wave.

“Jungsu,” he smiled.

“I’m Hyeongjun,” the last one says shyly.

“Nice to meet you guys,” you state.

“You like to listen to music?” Jiseok pointed to your cassette player. You nodded.

“Yeah you could say that,” you answered.

“Do you want to come to the music shop with us then?” Jiseok offered.

“Maybe some other time. We should be heading back now,” Gunil interjected, standing up.

“Oh don’t be silly Gunil. It’s not even late afternoon yet. Let me see what you listen to, the music store probably has it.” Jiseok reaches for the cassette player you had sitting on the table. Wasting no time in opening it and taking a look at the cassette before you could say anything. “You listen to them too! I-why don’t I recognize any of these songs?” Jiseok starts to look at the cassette closer.

“Oh that’s be-”

“1993!” Jiseok’s eyes widened. “H-how do you have a cassette from 1993?” Jiseok looked at you in disbelief. You looked at Gunil in a panic. He looked back at you just as panicked. “What’s with those looks? What’s going on?” Jiseok interrogated.

“Well, you see, I may or may not be from 34 years in the future,” you said. Jiseok’s face deadpans for a moment before he bursts out laughing.

“That’s a good one. I didn’t think you’d be so funny, but seriously what is this a fake or something?” He waved the cassette in his hand.

“Listen to it,” Gunil tells him.

“What?” Jiseok responded.

“Listen to it,” he gestured for Jiseok to put the cassette back in the player. Jiseok looked skeptical, but he did as he was told. His eyes widened again as he listened to the song he’s never heard before, but is unmistakably from the artist.

“How is this possible?” Jiseok asked, removing the headphones from his ears. You reach over taking the cassette player back from him.

“That’s what I want to know,” you sighed.

“Wait a second, are you actually saying that she’s from the future?” Seungmin speaks up.

“I know it’s hard to believe, but yeah,” Gunil states.

“Hard to believe? It’s completely crazy!” Seungmin declares.

“You don’t have to believe it if you don’t want to, but Gunil and I should really get going now,” you say. Gunil gathers the bags of your recently bought items and makes his way to your side.

“Hold on you can’t just leave after saying you're from the future,” Jooyeon followed after you and Gunil.

“Ok then you can follow us, but I told my mom we're gonna go pick up y/n’s things. She’ll start to worry if we’re gone for too much longer,” Gunil tells. Like a group of ducklings Gunil’s friends started to follow after you two.

“We should probably put the stuff into the duffle bag,” you tell Gunil.

“You’re right. Let’s stop for a second.” Gunil stepped aside and the two of you began to pull your recently bought items and put them into the duffle bag.

“I take it your parents don’t know that she’s from the future?” Jungsu inferred.

“No, she’s a friend, who moved here recently and is staying with us while her parents are away,” Gunil informed.

“Do you know where your parents are?” Jooyeon randomly asked. You stopped loading clothes into the duffle bag to think.

“Umm…if it’s 1990 then,” you pause to do some mental math. “My mom would be sixteen, so she’d be living with my grandparents. I know she goes to the same high school as you guys do,” you say.

“How do you know that?” Gunil asked as he finished putting the last piece of clothing into the duffle bag and zipped it up.

“I saw a picture of you in her old yearbook,” you tell him. It’s a bit ironic that you called the yearbook old considering that it hasn’t been made yet. You go to take the duffle bag from him, but he ignores you and swings it over his own shoulder.

“Oh, that’s how you knew my name started with a G,”’ Gunil commented as he began walking in the direction of his house.

“Does the name Lee Jooyeon mean anything in the future?” Jooyeon quickly followed behind you both.

“No, sorry,” you shook your head.

“What about Kwak Jiseok?” Jiseok cut in, appearing beside Jooyeon. Again you shook your head.

“How about Seungmin then? Oh Seungmin,” Jooyeon tried.

“Oh Seungmin?” you repeated a bit louder. You did recognize that name.

“Don’t tell us he’s the one who got famous?” Jiseok said. You laughed. While Seungmin let out an offended “Hey!”

“No, he’s not famous. I just know the name because my dad hated him,” you explained.

“Why would your dad hate me?” Seungmin asked with a bit of hurt in his eyes.

“I thought you didn’t believe her,” Hyeongjun commented.

“I-I don’t, not entirely, but if someone hates me,” Seungmin stuttered.

“Because you always beat him at track. My dad was the top track athlete at his school, but whenever it came to school competitions he could never beat Seungmin. He always came in second,” you explained.

“So you’re saying your dad is d/n?” he said your father’s name.

“Yeah, that’s him,” you confirmed.

“No way,” Seungmin states in denial.

“What? You don’t see the resemblance?” You turned to face Seungmin. Seungmin leaned closer to inspect your face. You slightly turned your head from side to side to give him a better look at your features. Suddenly Gunil reaches for your wrist pulling you up beside him.

“It doesn’t matter if he believes you or not. Let’s hurry up and get home,” he quickly said. You can hear the rest of the boys joking about something behind you.

“Mom, we're back!” Gunil shouted upon entering his house.

“That took a bit longer than I- oh the boys are with you,” his mom says.

“Yeah we ran into them along the way,” Gunil tells.

“Well make yourselves at home,” his mom smiles and steps aside. You all make your way to Gunil’s room, making a pit stop by the guest room you were staying in to set your bag down.

Jooyeon, Jiseok and Hyeongjun made themselves comfortable on Gunil’s bed. Jungsu sat at a desk. Seungmin sat on top of the desk. You stood there awkwardly until Gunil grabbed some pillows from his bed for you two to sit on.

“So if you’re from the future how did you get here?” Jooyeon was quick to ask you more questions.

“This,” you held up your mom’s cassette player.

“And you let me listen to it!” Jiseok yelled.

“It happened when she hit the rewind button, not just from listening to it,” Gunil defended.

“Still,” Jiseok grumbled.

“Since you’re still here I’m guessing pressing fast forward doesn’t send you back?” Jungsu presumed.

“Nope,” you shook your head.

“How are you gonna get home then?” Jooyeon questioned.

“That’s what I want to know,” you sighed.

“We’ll figure it out,” Gunil told you comfortingly.

“Maybe it’s cause the cassette is from 1993,” Jiseok spoke.

“Huh?” you questioned, not understanding what he meant.

“The cassette is from 1993, so it technically doesn’t exist here yet. Maybe that’s why you can’t go home,” he elaborated.

“Are you saying I’m gonna be stuck here for three years!” you panicked.

“No,no, no. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” Gunil tried to console you, placing his hands on your knee. Meanwhile Jungsu was scolding Jiseok for what he said.

“What he said kinda makes sense though,” you stated worriedly.

“No, what the others said is right. I’m an idiot, I don't know what I’m talking about.” Jiseok tried to fix the panic he caused you. Seungmin still doesn’t really believe that you’re from the future, but seeing the way you’re freaking out right now makes him want to. He definitely feels bad for you, cause even if you weren’t from the future your situation right now surely isn’t ideal. Gunil is still trying to ease your nerves.

“How about we go to the arcade?” Hyeongjun suggests amidst the bit of chaos happening.

“I’m not sure now is really-” Jungsu started.

“I’ve never been to an arcade,” you stated.

“You’ve never been to the arcade? Do they not exist in the future?” Jooyeon asked, astonished.

“They exist. I’ve just never been,” you informed.

“Oh, well we totally have to go then,” he said, hopping up from Gunil’s bed.

“Right now?” Seungmin questioned.

“Well we don’t know when y/n will return home, so if we want to do something with them we should do it now,” Jooyeon reasoned.

With that you found yourselves walking to the nearest arcade. Jooyeon and Jiseok practically dragged you because they were excited to play games with you. While Gunil was trying to tell them to slow down, not wanting you to accidentally get hurt.

The arcade was really fun. It managed to take your mind off your current situation for a while. Jooyeon and Jiseok were excited to teach you how to play the games and maybe tease you when you weren’t so good at one. Hyeongjun was much more chill and helpful when it came to games you had no idea how to play. Gunil stared at you admiringly. He felt like he could relax a bit seeing you genuinely smile and have fun.

“Are you gonna confess to them before they go back home or are you gonna hide your feelings forever?” Jungsu asked, resting an arm on Gunil’s shoulder.

“They want to go home. I shouldn’t complicate their situation any more,” Gunil said.

“You’re allowed to be a little selfish you know?” Jungsu voices.

“Even if I did confess it’s not like we can exactly be together. Plus I’m sure being in a relationship is the last thing on her mind,” Gunil notes.

“It’s a given that you can’t stay together, but do you really want to give up on being with her, even if it’s for a short amount of time?” Jungsu put to question.

Gunil saw you at the park on the day you first arrived. He thought that you were cute, so he may have accidentally sent the ball he and his friends were playing with your way. He was looking for an excuse to talk to you. When he saw you sitting on the sidewalk on his way home he couldn’t up the god given opportunity to talk to you again. Upon finding out about your situation it was clear that you were very stressed, but Gunil couldn’t help but feel a teensy bit glad. He was able to spend more time with you because of it. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want that. Jungsu told him that he was allowed to be selfish, but he was already being selfish. He didn’t simply offer to help you out of the goodness of his heart. No, it was because he liked you. He was already being selfish with his actions, so he didn’t know how far he should go with selfishness. Would it be too selfish to tell you how he felt about you?

Gunil is interrupted from his internal struggle when he sees you excitedly jumping up and down at a claw machine, reaching down to claim your stuffed prize.

“Gunil look!” You hurried over to him to show him the turtle you just won. Gunil falls for you even more, finding you adorable.

“It’s cute,” he smiles at you. He means both you and the turtle.

After your time spent at the arcade you part ways with Gunil’s friends. Gunil enjoys it being just you and him again. He watches you as you walk looking down at the stuffed turtle you just won.

“What should I name it?” you asked Gunil for his opinion.

“Umm?” Gunil thought.

A loud honk interrupts his thinking. He looks at the sound of the honk seeing a truck fastly approaching you two as you're midway across the crosswalk. Gunil quickly pulls you out of the way of the vehicle. The truck goes wheezing past you two.

CRASH! SNAP! CRACK! Panic rages through your body as you stare at your mom’s old cassette player that is now in pieces. It was haphazardly shoved in your pocket and the force of Gunil suddenly pulling you must’ve somehow made it pop out of your pocket.

“Are you ok?” Gunil looks you over still not noticing what had just happened.

“I’m. I’m. Uh, the- how am I?” Your non-coherently sputter out, pointing at the cassette player.

“What?” Gunil flows the direction of your finger and sees the broken cassette player. Gunil quickly goes to gather the broken pieces.

“It’s gonna be ok?” He tried to calm you.

“How is it going to be ok? That- that’s my only way home and it’s-” you heaved.

“Look at me,” Gunil says calmly. Your eyes hesitantly tear away from the broken pieces in his hands to look at his face.

“It’ll be ok. There’s a repair shop we can take it too. They’ll fix it,” he tells you.

“But what if-”

“They’ll fix it,” he told you firmly.

“Ok,” you let out a shaky breath.

Gunil and you arrived at the repair shop. You’re shaking with nerves. Fearing for the worst. That your mom’s cassette player will be unfixable and you’ll be stuck here forever.

“I think it would be easier to buy a new cassette player,” the worker of the shop informed. It made your heart sink to your stomach.

“It was a gift from her mom. You can surely fix it right?” Gunil told the worker in a passive aggressive voice.

“Look man-” Gunil leaned whisper something to the guy. “Ok, I’ll see what I can do. Come back in a week to pick it up,” the worker says.

“Great, thank you,” Gunil said to the worker.

“Come on.” Gunil wrapped his arm around your shoulder leading you out of the store.

“Can he really fix it?” you asked, doubtfully.

“He’ll fix it,” Gunil said confidently. This was going to be the longest week of your life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It indeedly was the longest week of your life. Gunil tried his very best to keep you distracted. He wanted to show you the joy of living in the 90s. He took out around town, showing you his favorite spots. He invited you out with his friends (who have started to grow close with you.) You could never completely shake the anxious feeling in your stomach though. Yes, you were having fun thanks to Gunil and his friends, but having fun didn’t make your problem go away. You were simply making the best out of a bad situation.

Currently you are sitting on the couch with Gunil, a movie playing on the t.v. It’s the night before you go pick up the cassette player. You bounced your leg anxiously as the fear of the worst began to set back in.

“Are you not interested in this movie?” Gunil asked you. It was an indirect way of asking if you were ok.

“I don’t think I’ll be interested in any movie. I’m too nervous. What if it couldn’t be fixed?” you told Gunil your worries.

“I told you it’ll be fixed.” Gunil scooted closer to you on the couch.

“You can’t know that for sure. What if I’m stuck here forever?” your voice raised slightly. Not because you were mad at Gunil, but because you were terrified of never being able to get home.

“Then I’ll take care of you forever,” Gunil answered. He tenderly took your hands in his.

“You can’t do that Gunil. You’ve already done so much, too much. I can’t keep burdening you, and your parents,” you argued.

“You aren't a burden y/n. I took you here because I want to look after you,” he tells you. His thumbs run over your knuckles.

“Realistically, how long can you do that? Your parents are bound to ask where my parents really are soon. What are we supposed to tell them? That I actually ran away from home? That my parents abandoned me? That I’m from the future?” you ranted.

“I get that you're really scared and stressed right now, but can you please just trust me. Let me take care of you. We don’t know if the cassette player is fixed or not right now. Let’s at least see how it goes tomorrow,” Gunil proposed.

“What if it couldn’t be fixed?” you asked again.

“Then you can have a mental breakdown, but I’ll take care of you during that too.” His thumbs stop rumbling your knuckles, but his grip remains grounding on your hands.

“Why do you care so much?” you questioned.

“Because I like you,” Gunil confessed. Your hands go slack in his due to shock.

“What do you mean?” you asked not being able to understand.

“I like you,” he repeated. “That ball didn’t accidentally land at your feet when we were in the park. I purposely kicked it over to you cause I wanted your attention. I thought you were pretty and wanted to talk to you,” he revealed.

“Then all this time you’ve…” You trailed off, not knowing exactly what you wanted to say.

“I know that you don’t like the situation you're in right now and that romance is one of the last things that would be on your mind. Which is why I wasn’t sure if I should tell you how I feel, but I’ve really enjoyed being with you this entire time. It’s selfish cause I know how stressed and scared you are. I really want to be by your side as long as I can,” he continued on.

“I feel most relaxed when you’re with me,” you tell him truthfully. “You’re right romance isn’t exactly on my to do list, but I like being with you too,” you say. A smile tugged at your lips. You moved your previously slack hand to hold Gunil’s hand back. Your words weren’t exactly a confession, but for Gunil they were more than enough. You liked being with him. That alone made him feel over the moon.

Gunil moved to lean against the back of the couch, pulling you along with him. His hands never left yours. Both of your eyes wandered back to the t.v that neither of you were paying attention to. Gunil being too wrapped up in the feeling of you leaning against him and the fact that you liked being beside him, just as he liked being beside you. Your nerves about finding out if your way home was fixed or not definitely keep you distracted. However you also found that the way Gunil was absentmindedly playing with your fingers and the calming warmth that radiated off of him proved to be an equally good distraction.

Sometime during you and Gunil basking in each other's presence the two of you drifted off to sleep. Your head falling on Gunil’s shoulder and his head resting on yours. Gunil’s hands placed protectively over yours from where they fell in the small space between your two bodies on the couch.

“He really tired to convince us that she’s just a friend,” Gunil’s mom said when her and Gunil’s dad returned home from their date night to find you and Gunil cuddled up on the couch.

“The hearts in his eyes were never fooling us dear,” his dad stated.

“They look so cute. I need to take a photo.” Gunil’s mom quickly and excitedly rushed off to grab the camera. She snapped a couple photos of you and Gunil. Then Gunil’s dad ushered her away from your sleeping forms, not wanting to wake the two of you and ruin the moment.

Your eyes cracked open in the morning, taking in the lighter room. You notice that the t.v has been turned off. Next you realize that your head is resting on Gunil’s shoulder and you can feel the weight of his head resting against yours. You slowly tried to remove your hands out from under Gunil’s. When they were almost free Gunil’s hands suddenly grasped onto your hands, bringing them back to his hold.

“Gunil,” you softly called out his name. You carefully lifted your head up from Gunil’s shoulder, which resulted in Gunil’s head coming down onto your shoulder.

“Gunil,” you tried again. “Gunil.” You shook your shoulder. Gunil started to stir awake.

“Mmh,” he mumbled, opening his eyes.

“Good morning,” you told him. Gunil now realizes the position that the two of you are in and sits up straight. Then he realizes that his hands are holding yours. A shade of pink dusts his cheeks.

“Good morning,” he said. “Do you want some breakfast? We have cereal or I could make some eggs,” he offered standing up from the couch.

“Cereal’s fine,” you say, standing up from the couch too. Gunil and you walk over to the kitchen and make your bowls of cereal. He pulls your chair out for you before you sit down.

“Thanks,” you smiled. He nodded then pulled out the chair beside you to sit down in.

“Look who’s up,” Gunil’s mom said as she entered the kitchen. You and Gunil each wished her a good morning. “Did you two sleep well?” she asked. You and Gunil share a glance. You both know she must’ve seen you two on the couch.

“Yeah, I slept well,” Gunil answered.

“Me too,” you followed. Your answer makes Gunil smile and Gunil’s mom certainly doesn’t miss it.

“That’s good. I know sleeping on the couch isn’t always the most comfortable, but you two looked so cute I didn’t want to disturb you guys,” she says. Both yours and Gunil’s faces flared red at her comment.

“Should we go pick up your cassette player now?” Gunil asked, changing the topic.

“Yes, we should,” you eagerly nodded. The two of you hurried up eating your cereal then rushed out of the kitchen. Gunil’s mom could only smile, finding you two adorable.

Once you and Gunil got ready you headed to the repair shop. The closer you got to the shop the more nervous you got. Gunil easily noticed how nervous you were and slipped his hand into your, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I got you,” he tells you.

The two of you arrive at the shop. You always thought the saying of feeling your heart in your throat was weird, but now you understand it cause it really did feel like your heart was in your throat.

“We’re here to pick up the cassette player,” Gunil told the worker.

“I know, I remember you,” the worker said, giving Gunil a look. The worker reaches under the counter and pulls out your mom’s cassette player. It looks like it’s fixed…accept for a crack that runs across the lid. “I couldn’t get rid of this crack, but it works,” the worker said.

“The crack doesn't matter. Thank you for fixing it,” you told the worker, taking the cassette player in your hands.

“Just doing my job,” he replied. Then he turns to Gunil, so that he can pay.

“Sorry about the crack,” Gunil says as you two exited the store.

“It’s ok. It answered a question actually,” you disclosed.

“What question?” Gunil asked.

“Back in the future, my mom and I were going through boxes of her old things. This cassette player was in one of the boxes and it had this exact crack, but my mom had no clue how it got there. She never remembered it having a crack,” you told.

“Well mystery solved then,” Gunil said.

“Yeah, mystery solved.” You unwrapped the headphones from around the cassette player and handed one to Gunil. He gladly took it and placed it in his ear. He took this time to wrap his arm around your shoulder, just like the first time you two listened to the cassette together.

Soon enough you arrived back at Gunil’s house to discover it empty, meaning his parents went out somewhere. The pair of you made yourselves comfortable on the couch.

“So what exactly happened when the cassette player brought you to the past,” Gunil questioned.

“I told you I hit rewind,” you chuckled.

“I know that, but did you hit any other button first or?” he clarified. You took a moment to think back.

“I smacked it,” you remembered. “When I first hit rewind it didn’t work, so I smacked it thinking it might get it to work,” you explained.

“Have you tried smacking it again?” he asked.

“No, but it just got fixed. I’m scared to smack it now,” you said.

“I’m not saying to smack it with all you got, but it’s worth a shot,” he stated. You lift your hand to give the cassette player a smack then paused.

“Are you that scared? Should I do it for you?” he offered.

“It’s not that.” You lowered your hand.

“Then what is it?”

“It’s funny. Most of the time I’ve been here, I’ve been wanting to go home, but right now it feels hard to leave,” you say.

“Well you know I’m not going to tell you to go,” Gunil said lightheartedly. “There’s no guarantee that smacking it would work either,” he notes.

“I know, but if it does. I think I’d rather try it later.”

“You wanna go get ice cream?” he suggested.

“Sounds good,” you agree.

You spent the rest of the day out with Gunil. Having your ice cream then going to walk around the mall. After the mall you walk aimlessly around the town.

“Well look who it is?” A voice spoke behind you two. Both you and Gunil turn your heads to see Jooyeon standing there with Jiseok. The pair of them had teasing smiles on their faces.

“Yeah look who it is,” Gunil said.

“It’s fixed,” Jiseok pointed to the cassette player in your hands.

“Yep.”

“Any ideas on how to get home?” he asked.

“We have an idea, but we don't know if it will work,” you said.

“How come you haven’t tried it yet?” Jooyeon questioned.

“Do you want me to leave without saying goodbye?” you said, quasi offended.

“Of course not. I’d be very sad if you just disappeared. You just always seem like you’re eager to go home, so I’d thought you’d jump at any chance,” he responded.

“I thought so too, but it’s harder to leave than I expected,” you say looking at Gunil.

“Aww have you grown attached to us! We’ve gotten attached to you too,” Jooyeon and Jiseok pull you into a sandwiched hug.

“You seriously can’t leave without saying goodbye ok?” Jiseok states pulling away.

“But there’s no way to tell when I’ll be leaving,” you brought up.

“We should have a goodbye party!” Jooyeon shouted. Jiseok immediately agreed.

“If we have a goodbye party and I don’t go home wouldn’t it be awkward?” You asked.

“Maybe a little, but with a goodbye party we won’t have to worry about not getting to say goodbye,” Jooyeon answered.

That’s how you found yourself at the very park, where you first arrived in the 90s. Surrounded by Gunil's friends, who are also your friends now too. Pizza boxes litter the ground along with soda cans.

“I still think this party is kinda stupid,” Seungmin said while taking a sip of soda.

“So if y/n just disappears and goes back home one day you’re not going to miss them and wish that you could’ve said goodbye?” Jungsu interrogated.

“Whether you believe she is from the future or not. She is still leaving one day no matter what,” Hyeongjun added.

“But we don’t know when that is, so having this party when we could still see them tomorrow seems kinda silly,” Seungmin defended.

“Exactly. We don’t know when. She could leave tonight, tomorrow, next week. This way we don’t miss saying goodbye,” Jooyeon said.

Goodbye parties typically are kinda sad, but you didn’t think this one would feel as sad as it did. You hadn’t really been in the 1990 all that long, yet you’ve made great friends, met a guy who makes your heart flutter and makes it hard to say goodbye. The boys taking the turns saying goodbye to you at the end of the party had all your eyes turning glossy.

“If I find you in the future then you’ll have to believe me then right?” you asked Seungmin.

“Yes, if you find me in the future. Looking as you do now. I’ll have no choice, but to believe you.”

“Then goodbye till then,” you told him.

“Goodbye y/n.” The party ended with a group hug and maybe some spilled tears that no one would admit too.

“Should I try smacking it?” you asked Gunil. The two of you were currently sitting on his bed.

“Do you want to?” he followed.

“With having the goodbye party I feel like I should at least try,” you say.

“Then let me say goodbye before you do,” he said.

“Hold on, let me go grab something,” you excused yourself. You went to your room and grabbed the stuffed turtle you won. You returned to Gunil’s room and handed him the turtle when you sat back down beside him.

“You’re giving this to me?” he checked.

“Mhm,” you hummed. “I always planned on giving it to you. I doubt it would come back to the future with me anyway, but I won it with giving it to you in mind,” you tell him. “Thank you.” Gunil hugs the stuffed turtle to his chest.

“It still doesn’t have a name,” you pointed out.

“I’ll think of one for it.” He already knew what he was gonna name it, but he felt too shy to name it after you right in front of you. He sets the turtle down on his pillow and turns to pull you into a hug.

“I’m really going to miss you,” he says, resting his head over your shoulder.

“I’m gonna miss you too,” you hug him back. “I like you too,” you confessed. Gunil pulled back enough to look at you.

“I’m a little late to say it back, but I wanted to say it before I leave,” you give him a sentimental smile. Gunil smiles at you back and cups your face in his hands. He leans forward, pressing a warm, loving, gentle kiss on your forehead. You close your eyes basking in the feeling of his lips on you. Your hands come up to hold his wrist lovingly. The two of you stay like that for a few moments. Saying nothing, but also somehow saying everything.

“Give it a try,” Gunil says, pulling away.

“Ok.” You put each side of the headphones in your ears. You hit play then gave the cassette player a smack. You took a breath and hit rewind. Nothing happened. Literally nothing happened. The rewind button didn’t work, the song kept playing like normal.

“It doesn’t work,” you say.

“We’ll just have to think of something else then,” Gunil said.

“No, like the rewind button doesn’t work. Did smacking it break it? This is what I worried about,” you complained.

“Hey it’s ok. Let me see.” Gunil takes the cassette player from your hands. This time he gives it a smack. “Try it now.” He handed it back over to you. You give Gunil one last look before hitting the button. The song began to play backwards and the room started to blur.

You were back in your bedroom. Only the cassette player wasn’t with you.

“Y/n can you come help me with these boxes?” your mom asked you. Help her with boxes? Like on the day you time traveled. You checked the date, surely enough it was the morning of the day you left.

“And why exactly have you decided to take a trip down memory lane?” you asked your mom. Letting out a heave as you set the heavy box down on your mom’s bed.

“So much that it cracked,” you joked. Despite knowing very well where the crack came from.

“I actually don’t remember it having a crack,” your mom said, scratching her head.

“Must’ve gotten dropped at some point,” you say, recalling the memory of Gunil pulling out of the way of the speeding vehicle.

“I wonder if it still works. I’ll buy batteries for it when I go out later,” she says. You looked into the box and pulled out the year book, flipping to the page with Gunil and your mom. A sad smile appeared on your face. Your finger slowly rubbed over Gunil’s image.

“He wasn’t my boyfriend if that’s what you’re wondering,” your mom pulls you from your gaze.

“Honey, are you ok? Your eyes are red,” your mom looked at you concerned.

“I think some dust got in my eyes when we pulled the boxes down,” you lied.

“Let me go get you a wet rag,” your mom hurried away. You missed Gunil. You missed him so much it hurt. You want to cry looking at his picture. Now you know he mistook your mom for you that day. That he was probably all excited to see you again, pulling you into a super tight back hug. Only to find out that it wasn’t you. “Here you go. Wipe your eyes,” your mom gives you the rag. You couldn’t hold the couple of stray tears that escaped as you held the rag to your eyes.

Later in the day when your mom got back with the batteries you listened to the cassette with her.

“Can I keep this for a while?” you asked her.

“Of course you can! Ooh I’ll go grab you my other cassettes to listen to.” She went to grab the other cassette. You didn’t plan on listening to them though. You were only going to listen to this one and remember your time spent in the 90s with Gunil. Still when she returned you brought the cassettes up to your room and sat them down.

“We found my old cassette player this morning,” your mom tells your dad as you all eat dinner.

“Oh really? Does it still work?” he asked.

“Yeah, but it has this crack across the lid that I don’t remember it having,” she answered.

“Guess it's a mystery,” your dad said.

“No, I dropped it when I time traveled back to 1990,” you say.

“That’s a good one,” your dad chuckled.

After dinner you headed up to your room. You laid down in your bed and listened to the cassette player. Tears cascaded down your face.

For the next week you cooped up in your room. Feeling what you would call a heartbreak. The worst part was that you couldn’t talk about it. All you could do was listen to the cassette as you thought about your memories with Gunil and his friends. You wished that you could see Gunil one last time. You spent the bulk of your time there worrying about how to get back home, but now ironically enough all you want to do is go back, just one more time.

“Please, please, just one more time,” you pleaded.

“Y/n!” You opened your eyes and there Gunil is standing right in front of you.

“Gunil!” You throw yourself into his arms. He crushes you in the tightest hug. “Wait, how is this possible? I didn’t hit rewind or anything.”

“I need to do something I really regretted not doing before you left,” he said.

“What’s that?” you questioned.

Gunil cups your face just like he did when he was saying goodbye. Expect this time instead of leaning in and kissing your forehead, his lips land on yours. Your hands travel to his shoulders and one of his hands moves to cradle the back of your head.

“That.” He pulls away to rest his forehead against yours. “I really regretted not doing that.”

Your eyes open and again and your back in your bedroom. You don’t know if what just happened was a dream or not. You decide to go with not because you wanted it to be real.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Honey, can you run to the store real quick? I realized I forgot something for dinner tonight,” your mom asked your dad.

“Does dinner really need it?” your dad asked.

“Yes, why are you too lazy to go?”

“No, Seungmin grocery shops today I don’t want to run into him,”

“Are you serious? After all these years do you still hate Seungmin that much?” Your mom asked in disbelief.

“It’s not my fault I ran into him at the grocery store. He just had to bag his belongings quicker than me. He's a stupidly fast asshole,” your dad complained.

“I’ll go mom,” you speak up. You needed to see Seungmin.

“Thank you,” your mom told you.

You arrived at the store, found what your mom needed for dinner and then walked around looking for Seungmin, hoping that he was there.

“Oh Seungmin!” you called out when you saw a guy that looked like he could be an older version of Seungmin. The dude turns around at you looking perplexed at who could be calling his name.

“Y/n?” he said.

“You believe me now right?”

“How is this possible?”

“You know how it is. Time travel,” you sassed.

“You look exactly the same,” he says. He’s still partly in denial.

“Yeah, it’s been 34 years for you, but It’s only been a week for me. Are you and Gunil still friends?” you asked, changing your tone.

“We’re friends for life,” Seungmin stated “Give me your phone,” he told you.

“Why?” you asked, still pulling out your phone nonetheless. Seungmin took it from you and began to type something in.

“You should give him a call. He’s been waiting,” Seungmin said. You stare down at the number typed on your phone screen.

You got into the car and sat down. You stared at the number once more before hitting the call button. You feel butterflies dancing in your stomach.

“Hello?” he picked up.

“Hey Gunil,” you say.

“Y/n?” he asked. He looked over to the stuffed turtle that he still keeps on his bed even after all these years.

“You’ve been waiting a long time right?”

“I’d wait forever if I had too.”

Taglist: @purplelady85, @odesonnets, @gingerjunhan, @chewednails, @ezlynkisses, @mon2sunjinsuver , @mxlly143

#xdinary heroes #xdh #xdh imagines #xdh x reader #xdinary heroes imagines #xdinary heroes x reader #xh gunil #xdh gunil #gunil x reader #goo gunil x reader #koo gunil x reader #goo gunil #koo gunil #gunil #gunil fluff

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daydreamingleclerc · 2 years

Text

kinktober #3 - lewis hamilton

mercedes’ new intern looks too good to be true, and lewis just can’t help himself when she wants it just as much as him.

prompts: age difference / innocence kink.

warnings: innocence kink, age difference, size kink, sir!kink, choking, unprotected sex, swearing.

he knew from the moment he saw you that he had to make you his.

it was unlike lewis to be so caught up in somebody he wanted to sleep with — usually it was the other way around. he would be the nonchalant one, the one who never made the first move and always waited it out until the person in question couldn’t contain themselves anymore.

it was more entertaining that way.

of course, he had a heart of gold, and he would never do it to hurt anybody, but lewis always enjoyed the sexual tension that came with meeting almost anybody new — it thrilled him to know that so many people wanted to sleep with him, sometimes all at once.

then, you came along. the new mercedes intern who’d known george since childhood. toto was looking for somebody new to join him and some others in the management team on the pit wall.

george put in a good word for you and he had made sure to drop in that you would’ve made a great strategist among the string of people lining the pit wall, and toto — the wonderful, handsome, delightful toto — decided to give you a chance.

“hey, Y/N,” lewis smiled at you when he arrived in the mercedes motor home. he was early, a rare occasion for the man you’d grown to enjoy the company of.

“hey, lewis,” you smiled back, “you’re here early, toto’s not even arrived yet.”

he admired your smile, but caught himself before you had the chance to look up at him. you were shocked that angela and roscoe weren’t with him, usually the three of them were joined at the hip and it was one of your favourite things about seeing him walking around the paddock.

“i know,” he hummed, sliding into the seat next to you, “i know you get here earlier than everyone else and i figured after a fourteen hour flight, you’d need a coffee.”

you smiled, your heart pounding as you took the hot cardboard cup from lewis’ hand, his fingers tracing yours as they slipped past one another.

“oat milk latte with an extra shot and a pump of vanilla.”

you watched him smile as you took a sip of the hot liquid, “how’d you know?”

he shrugged, too embarrassed to admit that he purposely asked carmen what your drinks order was because he’d seen the two of you at coffee stations countless times over the last four months and he wanted to make sure he got it right.

he went to open his mouth to say something but then he looked at you — really, looked at you — and found himself enamored, almost turned on, by how sexy and innocent you looked in your uniform.

you wore a shirt that was slightly on the bigger side, so that the cotton material wasn’t hugging your figure as much as it did on the other girls, your skirt slightly shorter and coming to your mid-thigh as opposed to your knees - a thing which you were always frowned upon for but lewis gathered rather quickly you were a rule breaker.

“lucky guess,” he shrugged again, this time with a cool smirk. you placed the coffee down beside your laptop and continued to type, “what’re you working on?” he asked.

“toto just wants me to write up some reports, it’s press conference day, remember?”

“course babe,” he laughed and nudged your shoulder. “busiest day of the week for you.”

you laughed, having to hide the blush on your cheeks from when lewis called you a pet-name, and soon went back to your laptop.

lewis soon got antsy; he felt like an outsider in your presence, but that was because his usual cool interior was being broken down by the fact that all he wanted to do was kiss you; among other, less safe for the work environment things.

he wasn’t sure what was holding him back — but it was probably the fact that you were only 24 that had something to do with it. you were thirteen years his junior, and he knew it was wrong, but there was just something about you.

your innocent demeanor that was by no means really innocent once your shell was cracked. you were mouthy, unafraid to get into collisions with other members of the team and you were smart, one of the smartest women lewis had ever met. plus, you had a great rack.

you, on the other hand, found it difficult to concentrate with lewis in the room. he was someone you’d watched for years in your living room, a man you grew up admiring, a man who made you so nervous in his presence you struggled to stay calm.

“what’re you staring at?”

“you,” lewis hummed, his eyes gazing across your slightly unbuttoned shirt and then up to your face, “is that a problem?”

“no, of course it’s n — oh, shit!” the words tumbled from your lips in a soft moan as your laptop froze in front of you, “no, no no, no! please… all my work!”

“what happened?” lewis asked, rising to his feet to lean down beside you.

“my laptop needs to be reset but i don’t know how to do it,” you began, “and so i’m waiting until we’ve left japan to fix it when i’m back in london, now it’s just completely froze and i’ll undoubtedly lose all my work.”

lewis’ hands instinctively rose to your shoulders, where he began to massage the soft flesh under his fingertips. you held a lot of tension in them, he gathered that almost instantly. he was hesitant to admit to himself that your soft moan of pain did something to him, and he fought to keep his mind away from it; until he inevitably dug his fingers into your tight muscles again.

“it’s okay, Y/N,” lewis said, “just breathe, you’ll be able to get it fixed.”

his fingers dug into your skin now, really working at the knots and you couldn’t help but let a whimper slip from your mouth. lewis shrugged it off and continued talking, “my laptop is in my motor home if you want to borrow it, or i’m sure toto can give you access to the team laptop,” you let another whimper slip from your lips, barely listening to what lewis was saying, “Y/N? does that feel good?”

“mhm,” you nodded, “feels so good.”

lewis leaned down, cocking his head over to the side so you were now looking at one another, and you gasped sharply as he hit a knot. his face was so close to yours now you could feel him breathing, his breath fanning your face with hot air.

lewis couldn’t pull away. he couldn’t lull himself out of the moment despite trying multiple times. he hit the knot again, this time the gasp of breath was sharper with a moan included and it tented his jeans.

“what’re you doing to me, Y/N?”

he asked, his voice barely a whisper while his fingers paused on your skin momentarily to spin your chair around, so your legs were now slotted between one another.

“i think we both know the answer to that one, lewis,” you replied, his erection and the increasing sexual tension among you becoming the elephant in the room.

he couldn’t help himself. he’d waited long enough, and it was evident by the look on your face and the lusted look in your eyes that you wanted this too.

the kiss was better than you ever could’ve dreamed it would’ve been, intense and hot. his teeth pulled your bottom lip between them within seconds and you gasped sharply for a third time in five minutes at the pressure.

“this is wrong,” he stated as he pulled away for a quick breath of air, before dragging his lips along yours again and pulling you in once more. “you’re twenty four.”

“i don’t see you stopping, sir lewis.”

lewis made a sound akin to a moan at the back of his throat at the words that left your lips, and when his fingers ran along the V of your shirt and un-popped the buttons, you didn’t stop him.

“we’ve got ten minutes before everyone’s gonna be here,” he said, “lay back for me.”

“where’s your manners, sir lewis?” you asked, teasing him with a glint in your eye.

he kissed his teeth and rolled his eyes, and thought about using his manners, but the idea he got afterwards was much more fun.

his hand wrapped around your throat, the size of it against your small, smooth neck was something that both of you got off on rather quickly. “i said, lay back,” he hummed, pushing you back by the throat, “don’t make me tell you again.”

you pushed the frozen laptop and the coffee cup out of the way, just enough so neither of them would be in your line of sight or touch. within seconds, lewis had bunched your skirt up to your hips and undone his zipper.

“anyone could watch us, lewis.”

“good.”

spit trickled down your clit and it made you squirm, almost itch for him to make you cum with his tongue but you both knew you didn’t have the time. you watched with hooded eyes as he smeared his spit all over your pussy, then coating his hand in it and wetting his dick.

he pushed himself into you and you couldn’t help but moan at the stretch. it was delicious, the kind of sex you’d been aching for for weeks.

“fuck, lewis,” you threw back your head, “you feel so good.”

“i’ve barely even started.” he hummed, a smirk on his face.

“then get on with it,” you replied. lewis’ hand squeezed your throat again, threatening you seductively.

he began to thrust, his hips snapping at a rapid pace as he fucked you with everything he had. he wanted to make this a fuck you’d never forget and he was almost definitely doing that.

“god, you’re so tight.”

you were unable to speak, your mouth hanging open as he fucked you and you clawed at his biceps. he smirked, hoisting one of your legs up onto his shoulders and using it as leverage to fuck you harder.

“should’ve known the attitude would disappear when you’re being fucked like a brat.”

“god, lewis, you’re so…” you couldn’t finish the sentence, unable to form a proper sentence as his balls hit your bum.

“c’mon, angel,” he said, stifling a moan of his own as you clenched, “i can feel you getting closer to your orgasm, want you to cum for me.”

you pulled him down; your hands on his neck and pressing your lips to his. both of your legs were now up on his shoulders and he was drilling into you, leaving you no choice but to cum around his dick.

his lips dampened the noise of your moans, and as your legs shook lewis couldn’t hold his own orgasm. he spilled inside of you, both of you breathless and more than satisfied.

“not how i expected to fuck you for the first time, but i’m not mad about it.” lewis said after a moment of silence, and you laughed into his chest.

“well in that case we’ll have to fuck over and over again until it’s exactly like you expected.”

he held his hand out for you to shake and you took it. “done deal.”

#lewis hamilton #kinktober #kinktober (emi’s version)#lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x y/n #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton blurb #lewis hamilton imagines #lewis hamilton one shot #f1 driver x reader #f1 driver x you #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 smut

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soranihimawari · 10 months

Text

1/100th of a Second

Or how a poor college student became the sweetheart off a popular rookie athlete in his debut season…

Warnings: none? Just a meet cute at Noehbi…?

Pairings: Bokuto Kotarō x (fem!)reader

Ratings: reunitedbest friends!->lovers

Based on this image i had commissioned from @/rrabittt

Love, as scientific experts say, can change the chemistry of your brain. Love, some romantics who write in the genre, say can happen as often as a clap of thunder in the storm. Love, as you know it, walked into the classroom of your fifth grade class and you feel your young heart fall instantly within 1/100th of a second when your eyes meet the most talkative boy in your class.

Sure, for the next four years, until you enter different high schools, you were inseparable. Taking naps, going to support each other’s sporting events, you name it, he was there for every win and you were there for his. It wasn’t until your middle school year was ending that you had to break the news to him up weren’t able to join him in at Fukurodani. He was devastated and he seemed to visibly deflate and poke around his bento.

“But it’s not like I’m going to be too far away, Bo,” you remind him. “You can always watch my games when I start the season in Hyogo. My mom went to Inarizaki too before moving here to Tokyo for university and she met my dad instantly and kicked off their love story…”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same! You’re gonna be 12+ hours away by bus even more so my walking…”

“The scouts saw me out perform everyone on the team this year even if we didn’t make it to the girls’ junior nationals…’m really sorry bokkun.”

That summer, before you packed up and left, you don’t let the fight you two had nearly three hours before you leave with your parents who would drop you off in another city, stop you from marching to his house in the pouring rain. You pounded on his door and when his older sister answered the door, she leans over her shoulder and you don’t wait for her to return with a towel. For once, you put your heart on the line and in true story book fashion, you bully your way into your best friend’s room:

“Bokuto Kotaru!”

He’s never heard you yet at him, but you at 14 years old knew how to get his attention without the yelling. He hit his growth spurt this year and is now at a comfortable height difference for you to reach up, cup his face and humble him with his first kiss being stolen by you.

“You’re insane,” he mumbles.

“Absolutely stark raving mad,” you jest back before hugging him. “Thought you should know I’ve been wanting to do that since we were ten.”

And so, you leave when he wishes you luck in Hyogo.

Almost a full three years later, you’re back in the city that bared and raised you. Tokyo was ever growing, ever expanding. It would be the same across the country in Hyogo. Sure you were a bit timid even in the past, however ever since your parents decided to split, you find yourself back in your hometown.

It's a weird feeling hearing your old friend in your new high school's gymnasium. Apparently, though you were studying at Nohebi (because they were still accepting transfer students right before the year had started), you happened to join a classmate to oversee her boyfriend's volleyball club training. That's when you see a few of the guys clad in ivory. The third team that were invited were a den of cats, and you seem to pick up this was a pre-pre season face off. Noehbi's vice captain nudges one of the others whom your girl friend from class waves toward and you are introduced to Daisho Suguru. His rival, the tall guy in red, still insults him, but you sort of laugh at their banter. However, your attention goes to the third young man clad in the ivory and gray practice uniform. Sure, you haven't seen each other in three years, but you can tell he sort of filled out: chest and torso was worked out on a weekly focus rotation; his legs were covered with compression leggings which only accentuated his...other assets; and oh my god, you realize he's walking toward you.

"Excuse me," you smile at Daisho and his-your-girl friend, and you respond when you know Bokuto's voice has changed to a little raspier one than before. "Bo?"

"YN?"

You both chuckle and you let Daisho make the call to have the first practice match be between Nekoma (red team you found out later) and Nohebi, begins. WInner of that match will square off with one of the five top aces in the year.

Hours later, you're seen walking in the opposite direction of your own home, reconnecting with the boy you stole your first kiss from at 14. You fill him in on your life, even your parents divorce, "so the judge agreed I was old enough to choose who and where I wanted to live, so I came back home...with my dad."

"Cool, but y'know, 'm sorry they split," Bokuto says, holding your hand and giving it a squeeze.

"Me too, but I'm glad they're living their own truths now," you reply, shyly combing a piece of your hair behind your ear. “I’ll be here through the end of our third year. So, I’ll be seeing you more I guess.”

He hums, nodding along.

“Once an old friend, always an old friend,” Bokuto beams.

You don’t bring up the time you literally gave him his first kiss, that memory could burn for all you care. Awkward and all, however that was three years ago and as his house comes to view, he asks you something a bit…sweet?

“Want to come in?”

You, who think nothing of it, agree, stepping across the threshold of the front door you’ve came through so many times. His house is lively with with sisters and even the eldest one now is finally expanding the family. Her sweet smile invites conversation, but thankfully after you had said your greetings, she understands her kid brother more than anyone else. The middle sisters are gushing over the latest sonograms of their eldest sibling while Bokuto chimes in with being named a godparent almost immediately.

“Well, if I make Koutaro a god parent, then,” his expecting sister glances at you. “I’d have to make you one too I guess.”

Your cheeks are burnt sunset orange when Bokuto pulls you away from the kitchen saying something about homework.

“They are as lively as ever…So, your one-san is expecting? That’s something I wasn’t expecting when you told me she was gonna come home for a few months and travel back I think before she gets too far along…You an uncle? That’s also great too,” you ramble a bit. You take an opportunity to see the achievements he made with being the ace for the volleyball clubs since your move, spotting the article framed of him and his near perfect posture for a pipeline spike.

“Bokuto,” your voice is gentle. “Why did you invite me inside?”

He places his things down at the corner of his bed before sitting on the edge of it.

“Because I missed you way more than I imagined.”

Considering you’re standing by his desk right now, you arch an eyebrow, but you shrug your shoulders.

“I’m sorry I didn’t write or call,” you confess. “I didn’t have enough time to ask for a computer at the time. I mean, I had tablets, sure, but we didn’t make it a point to trade social media.”

“Come here,” he holds your hand. You listen to him and walk toward him until you’re close enough he hugs you; a hand of yours rustles his hair. You chuckle slightly amused when he nuzzles his cheek against your torso.

“Affectionate as always,” he hears you say. His eyes light up and he chooses to ask you something a bit bolder.

“Mind if I do something?”

You shake your head before asking if he’s attempting to flirt with you (again).

“So what if I am,” Bokuto loves it when you tease him a bit. His lips find yours after he guides you to sit on his lap for a bit. There’s a smile you feel post him pecking your lips as he finally decides to take a chance for you both. For the boy who cares and emotes too much to find the person who inspired him to return after some time, having you return his affections meant the world to him.

So when future you had honed your skills in obtaining your degree in public relations, you stand in the press room with the rest of the rookie volleyball players from the Monster Generation, a sparkly stone shines on your finger when just a regular ace answers a question from the press.

#🌻— flying around collecting pollen—queue #haikyuu x reader #bokuto x reader #sfw piece

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razzle-zazzle · 8 months

Text

Brothers

9650 Words; Between AU, pre-canon

TW for death

AO3 ver

Gristle Junior was seven months and eleven days old on the day of his first Trollstice.

Or rather, he was seven months and eleven days old on what would have been his first Trollstice, were it not for the lack of trolls. And the day had started so well, too, anticipation electric in his veins as he bounced around his father’s room. He had been so ready to taste true happiness!

But the Trolls were gone, fleeing underground despite the best efforts of Chef’s underlings. Not a single Troll had been recovered, Gristle had been told, and from what little he had been able to see of the commotion—from the swinging shovels and pickaxes he had glimpsed in the plaza as he was being shuffled away from the action—supported that notion. Surely, if Trolls were being found, then surely there would be much less frustration.

But the day passed without a single Troll eaten. Gristle’s father, for who he had been named, had taken him aside to calmly explain that with no Trolls, Gristle would never be happy. Not ever. Nothing else could possibly work.

To a Bergen less than a year old, such words were absolute. And why should Gristle doubt his father? The King had lived for decades, an extent of time which felt like an eternity to Gristle Junior. Surely, if there was anyone who could know everything, it would be the King.

Gristle was seven months and eleven days old on the last chance he would ever have to know true happiness. The date clung to his mind, the damnation of eternal misery heavy in his chest. To a Bergen so young and inexperienced with the world, there could be nothing worse.

Chef was disgraced. Not a single Troll recovered, in all of that mess? Her exile was quick and loud—Gristle watched from the castle door with his father as Chef was bodily thrown through the gates, shouting curses he strained to hear. With a sigh, Gristle moved to turn away from the door, prepared to ready himself for bed.

“Your Majesty!” Two Bergens hailed down his father, bowing the moment the King’s eyes were on them. “We found…” The Bergen on the left had his hands cupped together oddly, perfectly concealing whatever would be inside. With a nudge from his partner, he bowed again, holding out whatever it was to the King. “We found this at the tree’s edge.”

Gristle Junior turned back towards the door, pressing against his father’s legs to peer at what was so urgent it couldn’t wait for daylight. The air was thick with anticipation as the Bergen’s fingers slowly parted, revealing what was delicately clasped in his hands.

It was a Troll.

Gristle’s eyes widened. His father inhaled sharply, peering down at the tiny shape curled in the palm.

The Troll stared up at them with wide eyes, curled in on itself and shaking. It was so small. How did creatures that small even exist?

The King hummed, leaning in further. Gristle Junior was quick to imitate, peering at the tiny Troll even more intently. This brought to light a detail that had been previously overlooked—a detail that seven month and eleven day old Gristle had no filter against pointing out.

“It’s gray.” Gristle said, peering down at the thing. Tiny, too. Could something so little really bring him happiness? “Is it sick?” He poked at the Troll, and it flinched back with a hiss, tail clutched in its paws.

“Inedible.” Gristle Senior growled out. He turned bared teeth to the pair before them. “Your effort is appreciated.” He said, “But there’s no use for a Troll that’s gone bad.” The King sighed, moving to reenter the castle. “Do as you wish with it.” He dismissed. “My son and I…”

Gristle Junior reached for the Troll. “It’s so small.” He whispered, staring down at it. Small and gray and baring blunted teeth in an approximation of a snarl… He looked up at the pair, eyes wide. “Can I have it?”

The Bergen holding the Troll hesitated, before tilting his hands towards Gristle. The Troll squeaked as Gristle scooped it up, voice tiny. Gristle squealed, clutching the Troll and running back inside, the rest of the world forgotten.

The Troll turned bewildered eyes up to Gristle. It trembled, shouting as Gristle turned a corner, but Gristle paid no heed to anything but the sheer novelty of his idea. His very own Troll! There was hardly much of a plan in the toddler’s head, but a simple idea was all Gristle really needed at his age.

Gristle bounced into his bedroom, Troll in hand. He moved to set the Troll down on the desk—

“Son!” Gristle Senior’s voice was seldom so loud—but when it was, it commanded attention from everyone in the area. And indeed, Gristle Junior turned his attention to his father, the Troll still squirming in his hand. “What are you doing?” Gristle had never heard his father at such a loss.

“Keeping it.” Gristle Junior said.

Gristle Senior walked across the room and peered down at the Troll on the desk, trapped between Gristle Junior’s hands. “A pet is a lot of responsibility, son.” He pointed out.

“You say the same about being Prince.” Gristle Junior responded.

Gristle Senior jolted slightly, taken aback. “That… is true.” He conceded. “But it’s a Troll.” He poked the Troll in question, sending it stumbling backwards onto the ground. “It will just get eaten.”

“But you said gray Trolls are inebidable!” Gristle Junior lifted the Troll—his Troll, up with cradled hands, pressing it against his chest. “That they’ve got no use, which means that eating them can’t do anything!”

“Inedible.” Gristle Senior corrected gently. He lowered down, to be closer to his son’s eye level. “Son, be realistic. The kingdom just lost all of its Trolls. Trollstice has been a tradition for more than a century. The shock of no more Trollstices will make the people desperate.”

The Troll stared up from Gristle Junior’s hands with wide eyes. Tiny claws too small to do any damage dug into Gristle Junior’s hand.

Gristle Junior huffed. “But they gotta listen to you, Daddy. You’re the King.” The people had listened when the King declared Chef exiled; Gristle had witnessed just that less than an hour ago. “If you say that my Troll is inedidible then nobody will eat it!”

The King sighed, tired and heavy. “You’ll need something to keep it in.” He advised. As his son cheered, he turned to the door, and made his way across the room. Once Gristle Senior reached the doorframe, he turned back to his son one more time.

“If I wake up tomorrow and find that thing is running around the castle, I will feed it to Barnabus.” He threatened. His face immediately lightened, and he left the room with a single, cheery, “Goodnight, son!”

Gristle Junior nodded at the closed door with the utmost seriousness. He turned back to his Troll, who he set on the desk gently. “Hear that?” He asked. “You stay in here, or else.” With that, Gristle propped his face up in his hands, leaning forwards. “My name’s Gristle. Yours?”

The Troll crossed tiny Troll arms and glared up at him. “I’m not telling.” It said, in a voice that reminded Gristle of the mice Barnabus ate.

“Then I’ll just give you one!” Gristle chirped. “How about… Trolly!”

“No.”

Gristle frowned. “You’re getting a name, no matter what.” He huffed, poking his Troll in the side. The Troll stumbled a bit, but remained standing. “You’re so grumpy.” Gristle noticed. “Just like… a Bergen…” He trailed off, something approaching realization creeping up his throat.

The Troll snarled. “Not a Bergen!” It insisted, tail smacking the desk.

Gristle stared. “You…” His eyes lit up. “You and I are gonna be best friends.” Gristle decided, poking his Troll again.

The Troll’s response was simple. Gristle yelped, yanking his hand back. The Troll fell over, rubbing at its mouth with tiny paws, and Gristle stared at the tiny teeth marks on his finger.

The Troll glared mutinously, as if daring Gristle to come within biting range again.

Gristle nodded. “Yep! Best friends!”

+=+=+=+=+

Gristle Junior was nine months and two days old when he learned the Troll’s name. He had been poring through a pet care magazine, oo-ing and ah-ing over the different kinds of pets that Bergens kept. From alligator-dogs like Barnabus to even frog-crows!

He had hit the section for small pets, though none of the kinds commonly kept by Bergens were as small as a Troll. He looked over at the custom cage his father had had commissioned for his Troll, from the pod taken from the abandoned Troll Tree to the sandy substrate in the basin. As usual, his Troll was down on the substrate, pressed into the corner while it worked its way through safflower seeds.

“Look!” Gristle held the magazine right up against the cage bars, pointing at the circled bird perch. “How does a swing sound? I bet you’d have a lot of fun with it, Trolly.” He didn’t expect a response—the Troll rarely ever spoke back, content with glaring and darting away when Gristle reached into the cage.

Which meant it surprised him all the more when the tiny creature spoke. “Branch.”

Gristle opened his mouth to continue speaking—stopped. “What?”

“Branch.” The Troll repeated. “My name is Branch.” Its eyes were locked resolutely on the sandy substrate, shoulders hunched and tail thwap-thwap-thwapping against the corner.

Gristle gasped. “Oh!” He’d never thought—he—Branch—

“That’s a weird name.” Gristle finally decided, leaning in. “Are all Trolls named like that?” He couldn’t quite read well enough to digest all the books he’d found about Trolls (or that had Trolls on the covers), so his only real source of information was what former Troll-handlers Chad and Todd (or was it Todd and Chad?) could tell him, when he saw them. Which wasn’t often.

Branch gave Gristle a deer in headlights look, a helpless sort of “how-would-I-know” conveyed through body language alone. Paws clenched and unclenched against the seed held between them.

Gristle shrugged, and went back to the magazine. “So,” He said, “You never said if you wanted a swing.”

“Don’t bother.” Branch huffed. “I won’t use it.”

+=+=+=+=+

Gristle Junior was five years old when his father led him into his study for the first time. The younger marveled at the book-filled shelves and neatly organized desk, at the candle holders set into the wall and the banners hanging down—this room was his future.

“My son,” Gristle Senior began. “What you will be starting today is a time-honored tradition of Bergen Royalty.” His voice had a practiced lilt, a deep timbre made of years of self-assurance. “For no Monarch rules Bergentown alone—it is the duty of Princes and Princesses to run the kingdom in concert with the reigning monarch.”

“Whoaaa…” Gristle Junior hopped up and down to see atop the desk. “I’m a Prince!” He realized, whirling around to face his father. “So I have to help you run!”

Gristle Senior chuffed. When he spoke, there was pride in his voice. “And that is exactly what you will start learning today.” He lifted his son with one arm, sitting down behind the desk and settling Gristle Junior in his lap. “Now,” He pushed a stack of books from the edge of the desk to the center. “Here are the best volumes to start with…”

The lesson continued on throughout the rest of the morning. After lunch with his father, Gristle Junior returned to his room with the stack of books he had been given, ready and willing to learn. He pushed open the door, and made his way over to the desk right next to his bed.

“There’s so many books I need to read!” Gristle lamented. “How am I ever going to learn it all?” He’d have to, though, to be a proper Prince of Bergentown. And he would! Bergens were tough, and royal Bergens were said to be the toughest of all! So Gristle would be the best Prince! No book could defeat someone as tough as him!

He was starting with history. But there was so much! He held out the book to Branch’s cage, showing off just how thick it was—and it was all pre-Trollstice, too!

Branch squinted at the tome, then returned to his digging. He’d been doing a lot of that lately. Which was weird, because Trolls were supposed to live in trees—every book Gristle had read on them said so. But the pod in Branch’s cage—taken directly from the Troll Tree, no less—remained just as empty as it always had. There was even dust building up along the top!

“I mean, how in the world am I ever going to remember all this?” Gristle slammed the book down on his desk, prying it open. He was glad for Branch—the Troll was a good listener, in the five year old’s eyes.

The Troll in question poked his head back up, ears twitching. “Are you going to read it, or are you just gonna complain?” He asked, before going back to the hole.

“Right.” Gristle turned his attention back to the book. Slowly, he began, sounding out the words as best he could.

“The first re-cor-did history of Bergenkind dates back to… three… fow-sand years ago.” He began. “When Fow-ler the First wrote the… the first ever Law.” He continued reading, stumbling over words while Branch continued digging. Gristle let the history wash over him, entranced in the task set before him. Hours passed, and Gristle found himself being called down to dinner before he even registered that so much time had passed.

Three days later, Gristle found himself staring at a worksheet in frustration. He was supposed to fill it out without looking at his books, and he was struggling.

“UGH!” Gristle threw his head back, clutching at his hair as he seethed. “How can I remember the name of the first Bergen to write a law but not when?!” He smacked his head against the desk, groaning in frustration. The urge to go to his shelf and pull out the relevant book itched down his spine—but he had to hold strong! A good Prince knew how to look things up, but a great Prince could recall whatever detail was needed when it was needed.

Oh, how was Gristle ever supposed to be a great Prince?

“The first recorded history of Bergenkind dates back to three thousand years ago.” Branch said, casually breaking the frustrated silence. “That’s what your book said.”

Gristle looked at Branch’s cage, where the Troll was busy jotting stuff down on a scrap of paper. Gristle then looked over to the book on his shelf. Slowly, he pushed out his chair and went over to the shelf, opening the book to the first page.

“That’s…” He turned back to Branch. “You’ve got a good memory.” He said, returning the book to the shelf.

Branch muttered something that Gristle didn’t quite catch. Gristle shrugged, and went back to his worksheet. He’d have to read aloud to Branch more often, if Branch could remember stuff so well.

With a hum, Gristle continued on with the worksheet. It probably wasn’t in the spirit of the challenge to have a friend who could remember a lot of words, but Gristle wasn’t concerned at all with that notion.

He continued to talk to Branch as he worked, something light in his chest with the knowledge that Branch really was listening.

+=+=+=+=+

Gristle Junior was six years old, and he and Branch were having a real good row. The kind of row that, had they been proper siblings, would have only been able to be settled by some proper Bergen roughhousing, with weapons and property destruction. A real riot-causing dispute.

It was hardly their first disagreement—Gristle had the faint bite scars all over his fingers to prove it. But it was certainly frustrating, born from weeks of buildup over a simple fact.

“It’s not healthy! Trolls are supposed to sing!” Gristle gestured to the book in his hand, which was way more useful than all the cookbooks he’d found. It actually went a bit into Troll health and growth, detailing all the ways and times that Trolls could become inedible. As Branch was, and had always been gray—or at least, as long as Gristle had known him—the book in question proved very useful.

“Well I don’t!” And that was the crux of the situation, the simple fact from which all of this had spawned. “And I never will!” Branch’s stand was resolute, unshakeable, even in the face of all of Gristle’s Princely Rage.

“But you have to!” Gristle insisted, gesturing again to the page he had the book opened to. “Trolls that don’t sing—this book isn’t very nice about them!” He was fumbling, he knew, but he didn’t know how else to say it. The book said that gray Trolls were to be removed from the Troll Tree and disposed of immediately. It didn’t say why, and Gristle was still a child—he didn’t question the words presented as fact. As far as he could tell, a Troll that had gone gray was just… it wasn’t right!

“You’re supposed to be happy.” Gristle pushed. “You’re supposed to sing, like a regular Troll.”

“Never gonna happen.” Branch insisted. “I’ll stay unhappy, just you watch!” He crossed his arms with a huff, tail twitching angrily.

“That’s not good!” Gristle responded. “You have to get your color back eventually!” The book said nothing about whether Trolls could regain their color after losing it. But it wasn’t right, for a creature so intertwined with music to never make a single note. And if the book said to get rid of gray Trolls…

Gristle cared about Branch, more than he could feasibly admit. The castle staff were fine, and his father was his father, but Branch—Branch was a friend. Someone Gristle could talk to who would actually listen, no matter what it was.

The book said it wasn’t healthy for a Troll to go gray. Gristle was going to be King someday, in the far distant future, and he’d be responsible for all of Bergentown. Even sooner, he would be a fully fledged Prince, responsible for helping his father with Bergentown. If Gristle couldn’t even take care of one tiny troll, then what were his chances of ever being good at what he was literally meant to do?

“And then what?” Branch gripped the bars of his cage, rage in every inch of his body. “You’ll eat me?”

“Of course not!” Gristle could never! Branch was… Branch was his friend! Inedible by Royal Decree! Gristle would sooner eat Barnabus!

“You’re lying!” Branch yelled back. “The moment I become edible you or some other Bergen will be serving me up on a silver platter!” His tail lashed about wildly, tears bubbling up at the corners of his eyes. “Because that’s all Trolls are to you!”

Gristle flinched back. He… he refused to admit it, but Branch had a point. Trolls were the only way that Bergens could ever be happy, and they had spent generations with a holiday dedicated to that very thing. But…

“You’re different.” Gristle insisted. Branch was his friend. “You’re not… you never sing and you’re always unhappy.” He huffed. “It’s like you’re barely a Troll at all!”

This time it was Branch’s turn to flinch, tail falling flat against the ground. “Maybe you’re right.” He said quietly, turning away from the bars.

“Branch, I—” Gristle reached out, only for his hand to fall back down when Branch glared at him.

“Fine, then.” Gristle grumbled. “We’ll just be unhappy together.” Between the two of them, Branch was the only one who had even a chance to ever be happy—Gristle would never get to eat a Troll with all of them gone, but Branch… Branch was a Troll. If anyone would ever get to be happy, it would be the creature who was quite literally made of the stuff.

“Fine!” Branch sat down hard on the substrate, arms crossed and turned away from Gristle. “Unhappy together!”

It felt like a promise, like a finality.

It felt like Gristle was failing hard at this whole “taking care of others” thing.

+=+=+=+=+

Gristle Junior was seven years old with a form in his hand. He stood before Branch’s cage, expanded over the years to include deeper substrate and a small climbing tree. The… well, it felt weird to call him a Troll, when he was nothing like Gristle’s books, but what else could he be called?

A Bergen. At least, that was what he’d be if Gristle’s idea went through.

“I’ve been learning about law.” Gristle began, with no real preamble. Branch looked up from his orange slice, ears twitching, but made no comment. “And I found out something interesting.” He took a deep breath, and glanced at the memo in his hand. “Adoption Laws, Section Two. In the case of a non-Bergen being adopted by a Bergen or other being of Bergen citizenry…” Gristle hurriedly looked at the memo again, “They are considered, in all aspects of the law, a Bergen, with all of the rights and restrictions that such a designation entails.” He let the memo flutter down to the floor and looked down at Branch, who was staring up at him with wide eyes.

Branch clenched and unclenched his paws against the half-eaten orange slice in his lap, tail flicking behind him. “...what.”

“Listen.” Gristle leaned in close, holding up the form in his other hand. “If I adopt you, then you wouldn’t be in any more danger of being eaten!”

Branch squinted. “Aren’t you a little young to be a parent?” He asked, orange slice seemingly forgotten in his lap. “And I’m older than you.” He pointed out, somewhat bitterly.

“Ew! No! Not as a son!” Gristle waved his arms wildly, then pressed the form against the bars again. “As a brother.” He clarified. “Because… you’re more of a friend than a pet,” Gristle explained, “And it’s not fair to keep treating you like one. A pet.” He carefully gaged Branch’s expressions, watching as his face flickered through a series of emotions. “All you’d need to do is sign on this line…”

“It can’t be that easy.” Branch groused, tail flicking faster. “Bergens don’t do ‘easy’.”

“Well,” Gristle rubbed at the back of his neck, “We would have to get approval from Dad for it to go through.” He rallied, clenching his free hand in a fist. “But that’s easy! I mean, he let me keep you!”

“As a pet.” Branch stressed. He set the orange slice aside, brushing off his paws as he stood. “That’s totally different.”

“And that’s why I want to do this!” Gristle unlatched the cage door, not bothering to reach in—he had long since learned that Branch hated being picked up unexpectedly. Better to let Branch come out of the cage on his own terms. “Because what kind of Prince treats his friend like a pet?”

Branch’s expression fell, his shoulders hunching. His paws clenched and unclenched in the rhythmic way they often did, his tail flicking. Carefully, slowly, Branch clambered out of the cage, climbing down the flipped out door to settle on the smooth wood of the shelf. Gristle held out his hand, palm up, and Branch hopped onto it, letting himself be lifted over to the desk.

Gristle laid out the form. He’d double-checked every word to make sure it was exactly what he needed, and all that was left was to sign it and have it approved. Gristle had already signed it, his name penned in only slightly messy ink. Penmanship win!

Branch pulled a tiny quill from his hair, hopping up to gently dab it in the inkwell on the desk. As Gristle watched, Branch kneeled down in front of his line, and carefully signed his name.

“Think that’ll be enough?” Gristle asked.

Branch hummed. “Maybe…” He tucked the quill away and went back to the inkwell, hopping up and leaning so far in that for a moment Gristle feared he’d fall in. Branch kicked the side and lifted himself back and out, clambering over to the form and slapping right next to his name with his paws.

Two inky paw prints, right next to his name. “That should do it.” Branch decided, satisfied.

Gristle nodded, offering his hand again. As Branch hopped onto his palm and clambered up Gristle’s arm to his shoulder, Gristle grabbed the form carefully, blowing a bit to make the ink dry faster.

“Let’s get this done!” Gristle declared, running off to go find his father. It wasn’t the first time Branch had left Gristle’s room, nor the first time that Branch had ridden on Gristle’s shoulder. But it was the first time since the belled harness had been made that Branch had left the room without the jingle of bells signaling his every movement. Gristle realized it was weird, actually, to feel the weight on his shoulder and not hear the sound of bells he’d come to associate with that weight. But the harness was from when Branch was still a pet in everyone’s eyes—it wouldn’t do to make Branch wear it now.

And really, Branch was like a Bergen, in a lot of ways. He never sang or danced, he was disagreeable—even the gray of his short fur was similar to the average Bergen’s dull tones. Whenever he had something to work on, be it the den he’d dug or even old worksheets Gristle tried to downsize for him, he took to working on it just like a Bergen: with a grumble and the focused spirit that allowed Bergens to create sturdy walls and buildings. And he had interesting insights, too—Bergens disliked great heights, so even the castle couldn’t get very tall, but it was Branch who gave Gristle the idea to suggest subterranean expansion when the King presented the age-old issue of expansion logistics. Which was just funny, because Trolls lived in trees—yet Branch never once touched the dusty pod hanging in his cage.

Branch settled down on Gristle Junior’s shoulder, tucked just below Gristle’s ear. Gristle found a sudden bounce in his step, a mix of anticipation and excitement in his veins. Yeah, this whole adoption thing was a great idea! Maybe even the best Gristle had ever had!

Finding the King was easy—it was just before lunch, so King Gristle Senior would be just finishing up with the final petitioners in the biweekly levee. Normally, Gristle Junior would be sitting in his own princely throne beside his father, to listen and watch and get a general idea of how a levee worked—but he had… kinda skipped it, what with how eager he was to try out the adoption idea. Not that that was a major issue—Gristle Junior wasn’t meant to fully step into his duties as Prince until he was ten.

Still…

“Ah, there you are.” King Gristle Senior groused, shifting slightly in his throne. “Care to explain why you missed today’s levee?”

Gristle Junior stopped short, nodding his head in a bow. “My apologies, Father.” He kept his tone careful, regal, like he’d been taught. “I found something that needed attending to.” He explained, head still down.

Gristle Senior snorted. “Well, out with it, then.” He waved his hand encouragingly as his son looked up. “What grand idea did you come up with this time?”

Gristle Junior’s mouth pulled back in an odd way, and he fought the strange expression off of his face. With a simple flourish, he drew out the form, holding it out towards his father. “This.”

Gristle Senior took the form, glancing it over. His expression remained neutr—his eyes widened, as the contents of the form properly registered. The King’s expression scrunched, turning thunderous, before going down to mere annoyance. He turned that annoyance upon his son, and all but sputtered out, “What in the name of Berg is the meaning of this?!”

“It’s an adoption form.” Gristle Junior explained, pressing his hands together. He felt Branch shift slightly on his shoulder, and he held out a palm. Branch took the offer, sliding down Gristle’s arm to stand upon his hand, small and gray and steady.

“I can… see that.” Gristle Senior hissed through ground teeth. “But…” His expression became just as lost as the night that Gristle Junior had first met Branch. With a deep sigh, Gristle Senior looked down at his son and the Troll.

“Letting you keep a Troll as a pet is one thing,” The King began, “But adoption? Of a Troll? Are you insane?”

Gristle Junior felt oddly gobsmacked. “It makes sense.” He tried, unable to keep childish uncertainty from his voice. “Branch is the most unTroll Troll ever, he’s just like a Bergen and I think it’d be best if he was called as such, because then nobody would even think to eat him!”

Gristle Senior sighed, heavy and tired. “That’s not a good enough reason.” He started. “Son, do you have any idea what would happen if that… thing were to become your brother?”

“It’d be a serious crime to eat him.” Gristle Junior responded easily.

Gristle Senior brought up his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, grumbling too low for Gristle Junior to make out the words. “...of all the—” With a rumbling groan, Gristle Senior regarded his son with a firm—but not wholly uncaring—expression. “You’re a Prince, my son. You can’t just go adopting every creature you see fit.”

“It’s just Branch.” Gristle Junior pushed back, “He’s already close enough to a Bergen, what’s adding the legal distinction going to do?” He shook his head. “This will all work out, Dad, I know it. I just need you to trust me.”

“Son, be realistic.” The King groused. “If that thing becomes your brother, then that makes it a Prince. There’s no way a Troll could be a Bergen Prince! Trolls are all about loud parties and sugar and silly games—they’re simply unsuited to laws and regulations and the hard work required to run a kingdom!”

Gristle Junior’s mouth opened—to say what, he wasn’t sure, but air was being forced up from his lungs and defiance was roaring in his heart, ready to burst out what would surely be a useful and clever retort—

“I can do it.”

As one, Gristle Junior and Senior turned to look at Branch. Branch took the combined attention with hunched shoulders, his tail clasped in his paws. “You want me to learn how to help run a kingdom? Fine. I’ll do it. I’ll learn.” He dropped his tail and crossed his arms, expression firm.

“I don’t want you doing anything of the sort.” Gristle Senior growled, but Gristle Junior was already rallying.

“He can! Branch is smart, Dad, he’s where I got the idea for underground expansions from! He remembers all the stuff I read, and he listens, and he’d make a good Prince!” All of his reasons were true and proven—which meant a lot, for seven year old Gristle Junior.

“Preposterous!” Gristle Senior began—

“If you think it’s so preposterous,” Branch’s voice cut through the room like alligator-dog teeth through mice. “Then why not bet on it?”

Those three words echoed in the sudden silence of the room, bouncing off the vaulted ceiling and tangling up in the eaves. If there was one thing Gristle Junior knew his father could not resist, it was a wager.

Indeed, Gristle Senior’s face had turned contemplative, his hands steepled before him. “A bet, you say?” Something like satisfaction slithered its way onto his face. “Hmm, I think I see what you mean. A trial period, of sorts, is that it? To find out if you could even come close to being a Prince?”

Branch nodded.

“Yeah!” Gristle Junior agreed. “If Branch can prove himself then you have to let the adoption go through!”

Gristle Senior snorted. “Sure, fine.” He waved his hand dismissively, before turning his attention to Branch. “But when that little creature fails to keep up the pace, I’m burning that form and you’re going to put any wild ideas of adopting Trolls out of your head for good.” He glared down at the pair, lips curled in a derisive snarl.

“You have three weeks.” Gristle Senior declared. “Better get started.”

+=+=+=+=+

Gristle Junior was seven years old when he became a brother.

The wager had been… not as hard as Gristle expected. Branch had thrown himself into the challenge with a fervor that was only seen with master artisans undergoing hefty commissions. It had taken a lot of work, in those three weeks, but at the end of it all—

The cage had to be redone, renovated into a proper bedroom. The castle staff found itself expanded by two—Bernice and Groth, who had been hired to aid in the fiddly and sometimes frustrating art of turning tiny, Troll-sized writings into something that could be read by the average Bergen. Branch needed new clothes, and a proper bed, and a shelf for all of the Troll-sized copies he’d made and was making of the various books on Law and history and regulations, and had to attend meals and levees and lessons with Gristle, and—

It was so much. Gristle had known, when he had drafted that first attempt at an adoption form in the castle library, that things would change—but he had never quite imagined the sheer scope of it all. Suddenly, his brother was accompanying him everywhere, riding on Gristle’s shoulder or flinging himself through the halls with his hair. Gristle had heard some of the staff discussing pathways for Branch, where he’d be safe from being stepped on—

There was so much.

But…

Gristle had never had a brother. He had had a friend, in Branch, but it had taken so long for them to really get there. And now, despite how it had felt like the world was ending on that fateful failed Trollstice, all those years ago—

Gristle couldn’t imagine that day going any other way. He didn’t want to imagine a world in which he never met Branch, who was surely a Bergen in Troll skin. Branch was his friend—no, his brother.

“Hey, Branch?” Gristle rolled over and looked at the shelf that Branch’s things currently resided on, at the cage hurriedly covered with a sheet in an approximation of a proper room with real privacy. Late at night, in his unlit room, it barely looked like a cage at all. “Do you ever think about the day we met?”

Branch’s voice filtered down from the shelf. “Not really.” He admitted. “Why should I?” There was something oddly bitter in his voice. “It’s the day I was left behind. Again.”

Gristle Junior wasn’t sure how to unpack that. Or if he ever should. “I won’t leave you behind.” He promised, “‘Cause brothers stick together.” It felt like such a simple truth, to the seven year old Bergen.

There was silence from the shelf. It stretched on, almost uncomfortably so, feeding into the static of the darkness filling the room.

Gristle huffed. “You really are just like a Bergen.” He commented, “Always miserable.” He chuffed, something light in his chest that he didn’t fully register. “And that’s why you know we’ll always stick together.” He said, staring up at the darkness clinging to the ceiling.

“Unhappy together, then.” There was something soft in Branch’s voice—he must have been tired after such a long day.

Gristle sighed. Unhappy together. It sounded like a promise, like a finality.

It sounded like he was finally getting the hang of this whole “taking care of people” thing.

+=+=+=+=+

Gristle Junior was ten years old when he was properly crowned Prince.

The day had been rife with tradition, from a breakfast banquet stocked with imported delicacies to the event itself out in the plaza. The old Troll Tree, withered from its abandonment, stood tall in the center of the space, dominating the whole scene no matter how Gristle Junior tried to look at it.

He fiddled with the clasp on his cape—his Princely cape, paired with his new crown to signify the change in status. The festivities weren’t exactly celebratory—the whole ceremony amounted to more of a town meeting, but with the best catering the royal kitchens could provide. Bergens of all kinds wandered about the plaza, taking advantage of the free food while Gristle Junior—Prince Gristle Junior watched on from his father’s side.

Branch—no, it was Prince Branch, now—stood to Gristle’s side, on a small platform made entirely for the occasion. His own blue cape and silver crown had to be custom-made, instead of passed down, but neither of the brothers were bothered by that fact.

“I still don’t understand how Glixry managed such tiny details.” Gristle commented, focusing in on the silver metal of Branch’s crown. “It even has tiny metal leaves!”

Branch reached up, touching the edges delicately. “It feels so weird.” He decided. “But… not bad.”

“Of course not! You’re a Prince now!” Gristle assured him. “Stand tall and proud, like a proper Bergen.” Gristle commanded, repeating the words he had heard so many times.

“Yeah…” Branch let his paws fall back to his sides, almost hidden under the edges of his cape—but Gristle didn’t miss the way they clenched and unclenched repeatedly.

Branch was older than Gristle, true. But the fact remained that he had started learning later, so it had been decided to crown them both when Gristle came of age, and not a moment sooner. So here they were, brothers crowned together, all of Bergentown around them.

There would be so many more responsibilities, now—Princes helped the reigning monarch run the kingdom, after all. They’d still have to learn as they went, but—

Gristle breathed in deeply. The Bergens—his people—they were all miserable. But they were hardworking and honest, and Gristle would do his best to be the Prince they deserved.

Gristle turned to look back at his brother, who was fiddling with his own cape clasp. Glixry had repurposed one of the bells from Branch’s old harness for the clasp, and even now it still faintly rung as Branch slowly paced around his little platform.

There was an odd expression on Branch’s face, satisfaction and an oddly melancholy contemplation firming his brow. Gristle huffed, snapping his little-big brother from whatever thoughts he was lost in. Gristle offered his hand, and Branch rolled his eyes before hopping onto Gristle’s palm.

As Gristle lifted his brother high above his head, something proud surged in his chest, light and electric in his veins. His face twitched in that odd way it sometimes did, but Gristle ignored the feeling in favor of looking out over his people once more.

He was going to be the best Prince Bergentown had ever seen! He and his brother both!

+=+=+=+=+

Gristle Junior was eleven years old when Branch finally pupated.

His book on Troll growth said that Trolls pupated when they were twelve or thirteen. It also went on about how Trolls were utterly inedible in this state, wrapped in their cocoons as their bodies changed and matured.

That Branch’s pupation had come late according to the books was worrying. That it had come at all was a stark reminder of the fact that, for all of his Bergen-like traits, Branch was in some small way still a Troll.

Gristle peered at the dark gray hair cocoon for the umpteenth time. None of his books said anything about whether Trolls could still hear in there, or even what really happened to them outside of “maturation”—all the book really cared to go over was how to identify a pupation cocoon, and that they couldn’t be eaten.

“Even if you can’t hear me,” Gristle began, settling back down with an interesting book he’d found—some kind of romance novel where none of the characters actually got together in the end. He’d heard the librarian going on about how it was a contemplative piece about the nature of connections, so he’d picked it up to go through. “But if you can’t then I’ll just read this book to you all over again when you’re out.”

The cocoon gave no discernible response. Gristle decided that that was fine, and began to read. He made it through a chapter and a half before being summoned for dinner with his father, and he gave the cocoon one final glance as he left the room.

“I see your… brother isn’t joining us again tonight.” Gristle Senior commented, as the first course was brought out.

“I told you, Dad, he’s pupating.” Gristle Junior huffed, licking sticky roe off of his fingers.

“Yes,” Gristle Senior nodded. “Trolls do do that, I’ve heard.” He went silent as the second course arrived, digging in with royal fervor. A few moments later, and he spoke again. “Hopefully this whole thing doesn’t set him too far back.” He commented airily, dabbing at his face with a napkin.

Gristle Junior scowled over his plate as a servant exchanged it for the bowl of soup acting as the third course. “Branch always keeps up.” He asserted. “And we won that bet fair and square, so you can’t go back on your end no matter what.” He sipped from his spoon with a pointedly royal slurp.

“And I have no intentions of backing out.” Gristle Senior slurped just a little harder. “I’m just curious.” And with that, the conversation was over.

Gristle stared down at his soup. Branch would keep up. He would. He always did.

+=+=+=+=+

Gristle was eleven years old, and he was getting concerned.

Nineteen days. The books said that Trolls only pupated for a week, tops. But it had been nineteen days since Branch had disappeared into the spun cocoon, eyes glassy and unfocused. Nineteen days of a silent cocoon.

Gristle had long since finished that first romance novel, and the book on fence safety regulations, and was almost halfway into a book on the history of anchovy farming. And the cocoon still remained!

The worry was starting to affect his Princely duties, too. Maybe it was because he was used to working alongside Branch, and the absence was getting to him, but there was no denying it: Gristle was concerned. But what if trying to crack the cocoon open early ruined everything? What if he was supposed to crack it open, and he’d missed the deadline? What if being gray really was bad, and Branch…

Gristle didn’t want to think about it. He really, really didn’t.

The sun had long gone down when Gristle finally put his books away and retired to his bed. He glanced at the cocoon one last time before extinguishing the lights, worry like a rock in his gut.

The night passed. The sun rose again, creeping into Gristle’s bedroom through the window until it smacked against his eyes. With a groan, the eleven year old sat up, shading his eyes with a hand. He glared at the offending celestial body. “Every day.” He muttered. “Every day, you do this.” He was about to continue—

“Are you yelling at the sun again? Really?”

Gristle yelped, jolting hard enough to fall off of his bed entirely. He flailed wildly, scrambling to clamber back to his feet, frenetic energy in every inch of his suddenly-impossibly-awkward limbs.

“Branch!” Gristle leaned up against the shelf, examining the shredded remains of the cocoon through the door of his brother’s room. His little-big brother stood beside it, already having pulled on some pants. “You’re okay! You were in there for really long!”

Branch shrugged, walking over to his wardrobe. “Well, I’m here, so you can quit your whining.” There was a fondness in his voice that had Gristle rolling his eyes.

“Your tail’s still gone.” Gristle noticed. A lump settled in his gut, hard and heavy. “Branch…”

Branch turned around, twisting to look and confirm Gristle’s words. “Eh.” He shrugged, and turned his attention back to his wardrobe. “‘S not like it matters.” He decided, picking out a shirt to wear under his cape. “Bergens aren’t supposed to have tails anyway.”

Gristle winced. It was true, Bergens were tailless—but if they had tails, they certainly wouldn’t—

Gristle shook his head. He didn’t want to think about that. “Sooo,” He started, as Branch was securing the belled clasp of his cape. “How do you feel?”

Branch carefully placed his crown back upon his head, then walked in a small circle. “I don’t know, stronger?” He tried, holding his paws out in front of himself and examining them. “I think my balance is better, actually.” He noted. As if to illustrate the point, he did a twirl, his cape flaring slightly with the motion. “My face feels kinda… hm.” Branch pressed at his jaw with his paws, before shrugging it off. “Whatever. Are you gonna get ready, or am I doing all your work for you today?”

“Oh!” Gristle whipped back around, running for his own wardrobe. “Right!” As he shrugged on his own cape, clicking the clasp into place, he turned back to glance at the shelf holding his brother’s room.

Gristle sighed, all of his worries abated. Why would he ever worry? His family was just fine, and would be for a long, long time.

+=+=+=+=+

Gristle Junior was thirteen years old when he finally had to admit it.

He’d always hoped he’d get his father’s height, that he’d be able to stand as tall as the average Bergen in his adult years. But it had become clear that he would always be half average height, always doomed to needing steps to get onto the taller chairs.

It wasn’t the end of the world; Bergens could come in a range of shapes and sizes. That Gristle was so short wasn’t that big of an issue.

But Berg, did it feel like it! Gristle had spent his whole life looking up to his father—metaphorically and literally! And he was probably going to be stuck looking up forever!

“What are you moping about now?” And there was Gristle’s little-big brother, padding along one of the many paths set into the castle walls. The masons and carpenters had done good work with those paths—when Branch wasn’t running along them, they looked like simple wall decoration. It was real classy.

“I’m never gonna be tall.” Gristle grumbled, allowing himself a moment to lean against the wall in despair. Then he remembered who he was talking to, and hurriedly pulled away, flailing his hands as he tried to recover. “I mean—not that being short is a bad thing—”

“Okay, I’m gonna stop you right there.” Branch groused, holding out a paw. “Because from where I’m standing, you are not short.” He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms in front of him.

“I am, though.” Gristle lamented. “Most Bergens are twice my size. I mean, just look at Dad!”

Branch rolled his eyes. “At least you’re not Troll-sized.” He hopped down from the path along the wall to land atop Gristle’s head, just next to the crown. “Gotta count your blessings there.”

“I dunno,” Gristle started, swiping at his brother as the tiny Bergen pattered about on his head and ruffled his hair, “Maybe being Troll-sized would be nice. I could ride Barnabus around the halls with you.” He didn’t fully mean it—being the size of a Troll in a castle made for Bergens constantly forced Branch to find workarounds to even the simplest of things. But if anyone could manage it, it’d be Branch.

And Gristle had to admit: the idea of being able to ride on an alligator-dog, even one as old as Barnabus, was really cool. But Gristle was too big for that, and too big for his old trikes—all while being too small in so many other ways. It was like he was caught between, stuck at a size that would annoy him forever.

Branch dodged away from Gristle’s hand easily, chuffing when Gristle accidentally sent his own crown flying down the hall. Gristle growled, running after it, shaking his head in an attempt to throw Branch off. But his brother held on easily, always infuriatingly good at roughhousing despite his size.

It just wasn’t fair.

But, as Gristle replaced his crown on his head, and as Branch slid down to settle on Gristle’s shoulder, Gristle brushed away the annoyance.

It wasn’t the end of the world. Not by a long shot.

+=+=+=+=+

Gristle Junior was fifteen years old when the unthinkable happened.

His father, King Gristle Senior, who had always been an unshakeable force, strong and proud in a kingdom full of strong and proud Bergens—

Gristle Junior couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t be true. It just—it wasn’t supposed to happen like this!

But there was nothing that could be done. His father had fallen ill three months ago, and, despite every effort from every doctor in Bergentown, despite all of the King’s strength—

Gristle Junior was fifteen years old when his father passed from illness, gone overnight like a snuffed candle flame. Gristle Junior was fifteen years old when the title of King passed onto him, far too soon—he should have remained a Prince until he was a proper adult, until he was married with children who would become the Princes and Princesses that would help him run the kingdom—

Gristle Junior was fifteen years old when his world shattered for the second time. The funeral was held out in the plaza, barely a week after his father’s passing. The same plaza as Gristle’s first and final Trollstice, as his and Branch’s official crowning as Princes. It felt as though every major life-changing event in Gristle’s life happened here, the caged tree looming over it all like a shadow.

It still… it just couldn’t be possible. His father couldn’t just be… gone.

Gristle returned to the castle in a daze. Some distant part of him knew that he would have no choice but to take up his father’s crown, and soon, but—

The rest of him was sinking slowly, the grief thick in his throat and veins and head. The fog was all-consuming, pulling Gristle into depths of unhappiness he’d never thought possible.

Gristle had believed his first and last Trollstice, the day where he lost any chance to ever be happy, would be the worst day of his life. Oh, how wrong he was.

Gristle didn’t know how long he laid like that, staring up at the ceiling of his room without seeing anything at all. It was as though the world around him had well and truly shattered, and now the pieces had all fallen away out of his reach. Gristle floated on the nothing for what felt like an eternity and now time at all, the mire in his head growing thicker with every passing second.

“Hey.”

Gristle rolled over on his bed, pressing his face into the comforter to block out the rest of the world.

“Hey.”

What was the point? Gristle was never supposed to be King at fifteen. He’d probably mess it up, bungle the whole thing, and then all of Bergentown would be just as dead as his father.

“Hey!”

Gristle groaned, shoving his face into the comforter. He didn’t have the time or patience for this, his whole world was falling apart, why couldn’t he have a good cry about it in peace—

Something small landed inches away from Gristle’s head. He didn’t even need to look to know who it was—only his little-big brother could land so lightly.

“Hey, idiot.” Branch pushed at Gristle’s chin, lifting the Bergen’s head off the bed by a few inches. “Chin up.” He demanded, baring his teeth.

Gristle forced his head back down onto the comforter. “Leave me alone.” He growled.

“Mm, nope.” Branch declared, moving around to pull at Gristle’s ear. “You’ve been in here long enough,” he sniffed, “And you need a shower. C’mon.” He pulled, and Gristle had to put effort into staying in place.

“No.” Gristle grumbled. “Just let me rot.” Every inch of his body ached with the grief clinging to his bones, and the very thought of getting up and doing anything made him want to vomit. The whole world made him want to vomit.

“Can’t let you,” Branch said, his voice edging into genuine worry. “C’mon, at least eat something?” He tugged at Gristle’s ear again, darting away as Gristle irritably swiped at him.

“I said,” Gristle pushed himself up ever so slightly, just so he could look Branch in the eye, “leave me alone!”

Branch shook his head, paws clenching and unclenching. “You’ve been alone.” He said. “I can’t leave you. Brothers stick together.” There was something heavy in his words, some deeper meaning than a childhood promise.

“And how are you supposed to help?” Gristle asked, sitting up fully. “What could you possibly do to make this better?”

“Not let you smell like a rotting carcass, for one.” Branch snarked. His expression immediately softened. “You need to take better care of yourself.” He urged. “Letting yourself rot only makes it hurt worse. Please.”

“And what would you know?” Gristle accused. “You and Dad barely even liked each other!”

“You think I don’t know what grief feels like?” Branch spread his arms wide, tears beginning to bubble up in his eyes. “My Grandmother was eaten on Trollstice before you were even born! DON’T YOU DARE TELL ME I DON’T KNOW WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO GRIEVE!”

Gristle flinched back. All of his vitriol drained as Branch panted. “You…” Branch never talked about that, about those four years he’d spent in the Troll Tree. Gristle’s throat tightened as a wave of emotion hit him anew, his eyes beginning to sting.

“It hurts.” He sobbed, for lack of anything better to say.

Branch’s anger melted away. “I know.” He said, sitting down. “It hurts, and you want so badly to just curl into a ball and wish the world away—”

“But you have to pick yourself back up.” Gristle finished. “Because people are counting on you.”

“Because nobody else will.” Branch added softly.

Gristle sobbed, breathy and uneven. “I miss him so much, Branch.”

Branch nodded. “I know.”

“I’m not ready to be King!” Gristle’s face was wet, now, hot and sticky with snot and tears.

Branch nodded again. “I know.”

Gristle sobbed again, his whole body shaking with the motion. He opened his mouth, but no words came.

“It’s not okay,” Branch offered into the silence, scooting forwards, “And that’s okay.”

“It hurts.” Gristle whispered.

Branch nodded. No more words came, and Gristle continued to cry. All of his misery poured out, raw and real and painful, and Branch remained right in front of him the entire time. When Gristle finally ran out of tears to cry, he flopped back down onto the bed, and two paws pressed against his cheek.

The silence stretched.

Slowly, Gristle breathed. In, and out. His chest was still strung taut and raw, his face was cold and sticky, and his throat stung from the effort of crying so much. He had never felt so low. He knew the grief was far from over.

As Gristle breathed, Branch clambered up onto his chest. He kneeled down, and held out a paw.

“Unhappy together.” Branch offered. “Shit sucks, but it sucks less when we work together.”

Gristle inhaled, his breath choppy and uneven. “Unhappy together.” He agreed, offering his finger for Branch to shake. He sobbed again, and Branch wrapped his arms around as much of Gristle’s hand as he could manage.

Gristle Junior was fifteen years old when his father died. And it sucked, and hurt, and Gristle wasn’t sure he’d ever really stop grieving.

But, at the very least, he wasn’t alone. It wasn’t much, but that simple fact helped.

+=+=+=+=+

Gristle Junior was twenty years old when Chef returned.

The day started as any other, really. Wake up, get cleaned and dressed, find his brother already awake and poring over details from the latest construction updates in the new quarter. Have breakfast, Branch darting about to steal off of his plate as he stole from Branch’s, like proper brothers would do. Go through the castle halls greeting everyone, Branch walking along the various small walkways lining the walls and arching up across hallways like tiny bridges. Prepare for the biweekly levee in the throne room.

It was as the final petitioner was leaving that it happened. A Bergen that Gristle only vaguely recognized emerged from behind a potted plant, swishing her cloak ominously as she all but marched towards the throne.

And then Gristle recognized her. The chef’s hat, the lavender tint, the wicked gleam in her eyes. He glanced to the throne beside his, and anxiety germinated in his chest at the sight of Branch still as a statue, eyes wide and locked onto Chef.

“Were you behind that plant the whole time?” Gristle asked, for lack of anything else to say. He realized immediately how stupid that sounded—but Branch made no comment on it, which was so unlike him that Gristle’s uncertainty ratcheted up another notch.

Chef grinned as she reached for the zipper on her fannypack. Slowly, she opened it, and a sweet harmony emerged from within.

Gristle gasped, the rest of the world forgotten. If Branch had any reaction, Gristle didn’t notice it, too entranced with the sight before him.

For in Chef’s fannypack was a handful of Trolls, bright and colorful and singing.

This… this could change everything.

No—this would change everything. For all of Bergentown! Finally, Gristle Junior could live up to his title, could be the King that brought happiness back to his people!

If he had bothered to look back at the thrones, he would have seen Chef glaring daggers into his back.

More importantly, he would have seen the look of utter uncertainty on Branch’s face.