K.SM. THE SUBTLE ART OF LOVING YOU.

K.SM. — THE SUBTLE ART OF LOVING YOU.

pairing. kim seungmin x gn reader

genre. fluff, best friends to lovers au, slight angst

warnings. food, mild cursing, reader is extremely tsundere lmao

summary. the 5 times seungmin tries and heroically fails to hold your hand and the one time he finally does. (or, seungmin's endeavors to overcome his innate dislike for initiating physical touch in a nutshell.)

length. oneshot

word count. 4.6k

[1.]

Kim Seungmin is very practiced when it comes to loving you in the dark. 

He knows you wouldn’t have it any other way. Both of you have grown familiar with your eccentric dynamic, this dynamic of feigned nonchalance and subtle gestures of quiet thoughtfulness. Seungmin would even go as far as to say that he enjoys it— enjoys leaving iced cups of taro bubble tea by your desk without as much as a note or buying a jumbo package of shin ramyun to drop off by the doorway of your apartment whenever he stops by the supermarket because he knows how much you adore ramen (although he personally can’t seem to understand the hype about it). 

The only problem is that it doesn’t leave much room for relationship growth. 

Because as much as he enjoys it all, there are times where he would very much like to wrap his arms around your waist in a backhug whenever you stop by his apartment to watch the latest episode of A Business Proposal with him on Netflix, or brush away a stray strand of hair that falls into your eyes whenever you drag him to the local cat café despite his protests that he gets cat hair stuck all over his sweater every time he goes. Except he can’t, because he just knows you’ll turn to stare at him, eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed, and ask him what he wants for him to act so nice. 

(He doesn’t really want anything. He just can’t express his undying love for you out loud and instead resorts to small gestures and little acts of service as an attempt to convey how much in love he is with you. It evidently doesn’t work, of course, but still.)

And then he’ll have to act nonchalant and make some joke about wanting you to buy him an iced americano at the newest café that recently opened up so that your dynamic will go back to being how it usually is and he’ll be stuck at square one yet again. 

If he were as naturally clingy as Hyunjin or Felix, he knows that it would be absolutely no problem initiating physical touch with you. Hyunjin is someone who inherently needs to be linking arms with someone at least once a day in order to function properly, and Felix simply just adores cuddling to an extent that it comes as naturally as breathing to him. But the problem is that he isn’t as clingy as Hyunjin or Felix, and initiating physical touch has never come easily to him. 

Despite all of this, his want to share physical contact with you refuses to go away. It doesn’t really have to be something big, he decides. Maybe just a brush of his hand against your waist whenever you push past him or the steady weight of his shoulder pressing into yours whenever you sit next to each other. Most of all, though, he really, really wants to hold your hand. 

It starts off as a small fantasy, just a casual observation to himself that went something along the lines of wow, holding your hand would be really nice, actually. But after a while, it grows into a bit of an obsession. 

What can he say? You have nice hands and he just really wants to feel the pressure of your fingers intertwined with his own. So it’s only natural that he finds himself attempting to muster up the courage to place his hand over yours as the two of you sit by the plush red chairs of the library, studying for the upcoming physics exam. 

You’re reading through the textbook, eyebrows furrowed as you skim over the pages and pages of complex formulas and diagrams. Your hand rests on the table, just a couple of inches away from his own. Seungmin stares at it through his wire-rimmed glasses and tries to convince himself that reaching out to hold your hand is not the big deal that he’s making it out to be. 

Of course, he doesn’t actually manage to convince himself, but he tries his best, anyway. Pressing his lips together in a firm line, he makes an effort to move his hand a bit closer to your own and ends up backpedaling at the last second. 

“Seungmin.”

Your voice breaks him out of his thoughts. Glancing up, he stares at you expectantly, a hand coming up to push his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. 

“Are you okay?” you ask, eyebrows furrowed. “You look like you’re having an identity crisis or something.”

Seungmin quickly clears his throat, forcibly pushing any thoughts about holding your hand to the back of his mind as he nods. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.”

You snort. 

“Stop studying at 4 am on schoolnights, then. No wonder why you’re so exhausted all the damn time.”

“I’m just being a prestigious student,” he protests lightly, glaring at you. You roll your eyes but don’t make a move to oppose him, instead choosing to move your hand to flip to the next page of the textbook. 

Seungmin watches, aghast, as you place your hand in your lap after doing so— a good two feet away from his own hand. 

And just when he was about to find the guts to hold your hand. 

Gritting his teeth, he tells himself to pull it together. After all, the exam’s coming in just a few days and he has to stay focused and not think about how nice it would be to have your hand in your own. Even if the idea is very alluring. 

Even so, he finds himself thinking about intertwined hands for the rest of the study session. 

[2.]

Seungmin feels like crying. 

Your hand lies on the smooth surface of the breakfast table, quite literally a centimeter away from his own. If he moves his hand just slightly to the left, your hands will touch. 

Seungmin wants, wants it so bad he almost feels like stamping his feet like a fucking five-year old in frustration. 

But Jisung and Minho are sitting right across from you and he just knows that they’ll notice right away if he presses his hand against your own and he most definitely does not need them bursting into loud catcalls and whistles right in the middle of the breakfast. 

Instead, he watches as Jisung attempts to fit three fluffy pancakes from the college cafeteria into his mouth without choking. Minho watches on with mirth dancing in his eyes, even going so far as to shove the pancakes further down his throat in an attempt to make room for a fourth. Jisung gags around the pancakes, eyes watering, but shoots Minho a thumbs up, gesturing for him to try and add another pancake. 

Seungmin sips his glass of orange juice and watches in silent disapproval as Minho proceeds to spear another pancake onto his fork and press it into the stuffed cavern of Jisung’s mouth. He isn’t quite sure what led to this entire situation, and feels a vague sense of worry for Jisung, who looks as if he’s about to throw up. 

You stifle a peal of laughter as Minho attempts to push the pancakes even further into Jisung’s mouth. Seungmin gives your forearm a rebuking smack, glaring at you. You glare right back at him. 

“Why’d you hit me?”

“You shouldn’t encourage such behavior.”

You shrug. “Chan’s coming back in a few moments and he’ll make sure Jisung coughs up the pancakes right away. Might as well enjoy the sight while it lasts. Besides, Jisung can’t possibly fit another pancake—”

Jisung shoves a fifth pancake into his mouth. 

“Well,” you say, staring at Jisung with a mixture of glee and worry in your voice, “I’m sure Chan will be back very soon.”

Seungmin doesn’t bother replying, because he knows you’re right. If Chan had a role in the entire friend group, he’d probably be the dad. Slightly overprotective, prone to crack terrible jokes at any given moment, and perpetually exhausted. Chan fits the role quite well. 

Sure enough, Chan makes his appearance a few seconds later, his tray stacked with French toast and yogurt. He quickly makes Jisung swallow down the pancakes, scolding him for “almost killing himself” while Minho watches on in quiet amusement. 

Felix and Hyunjin arrive at the table a few minutes later, dragging along with them a half-asleep Jeongin. You frown. 

“Is Changbin not coming?”

“Changbin’s skipping class today,” Hyunjin says, “he’s still getting over his hangover.”

Minho scoffs. 

“Serves him right for drinking on a weekday.” 

Hyunjin shrugs and slips into the seat next to Minho, tugging Jeongin along with him, who promptly lays his cheek against the breakfast table and falls asleep again. 

“Must have had a tough night,” you say, glancing over Jeongin’s sleeping form. 

Felix nods. 

“He was up all night trying to figure out derivatives. He was almost in tears.” 

You nod sympathetically, leaning forward to reach across the table and brush his bangs away from his forehead, revealing the dark circles underneath his eyes. 

Seungmin watches in silence and wonders if he will ever experience such tenderness from you. After all, it is one thing to want, and another to have. 

[3.]

Seungmin enjoys spending his weekends in the comfort of his own apartment. The weekdays are hectic enough with all his college duties and whatnot and he enjoys having Saturday and Sunday completely to himself, spending hours lounging on the couch while scrolling through his phone and ordering takeout. 

In fact, he is just about to settle down into his bed and spend the next four hours binge watching a recent k-drama that he’s been into when you burst into his apartment. 

Seungmin jumps at the sound of his door slamming open, although the sound of your voice is enough to reassure him that it’s only you and not some psychopathic murderer who somehow managed to break into his apartment. 

“Yah, Kim Seungmin.”

He looks up to see you standing by the doorway of his bedroom, arms folded across your chest. Seungmin looks up at you from his phone and sighs. “I really shouldn’t have given you my spare house key.”

You brush away his comment dismissively, coming forward to tug him out of bed. “Whatever. Get dressed, we’re going out.”

“Where are you dragging me this time?”

“The Seoul Lantern Festival,” you say, “I’ve been wanting to see it recently but I haven’t found the time.”

“Can we go see it some other time? I kind of don’t want to get out of bed.”

You thrust a coat into his arms as you attempt to drag him to the doorway of his apartment. “That’s too bad. We’re going anyway.”

Seungmin curses under his breath, frowning, but pulls on his sneakers anyways after you tug him to the doorway and wait expectantly. You watch complacently as he ties his shoelaces and grin down at him when he glances up to glare at you, your smile dripping with faux sweetness. 

“You’re the best, Seungminnie.” 

“Don’t call me that.”

Humming, you reach out a hand to pull him up by the wrist. For a long moment, Seungmin thinks that you’re about to lace your fingers with his own to pull him along and stares, breathless, at your fingers wrapped around his wrist. But then you quickly let go after pulling him into a standing position and stare at him expectantly, waiting for him to step out of the apartment. 

Seungmin swallows down the bitter bile of disappointment that forces its way up his throat. Of course, he shouldn’t have expected anything more. You skip along next to him as the two of you make your way down the staircase of the complex. Seungmin allows himself a small glance at you in his peripheral vision, taking in your flushed cheeks and windblown hair. You are so carelessly beautiful that he cannot help but ache whenever he sets his eyes on you.

But then you turn to look at him and Seungmin quickly glances away, feigning nonchalance. 

“Why didn’t you ask Chan or something? You know I hate going out on weekends.”

“Chan’s been working on his track,” you shrug. “I didn’t want to bother him.”

“What about Minho?”

You stare at him. 

“Minho would have kicked me out of his apartment before I had even finished asking him to come.”

Fair enough. Minho hates going out on weekends even more than Seungmin does. 

“Okay, well, what about Hyunjin? You know he adores going out, especially with friends.”

You let out a huff of frustration, eyebrows furrowed irritably. “Hyunjin’s probably busy or something,” you say, waving your hand dismissively, “so I had no choice but to ask you.”

Even so, your ears color bright red as you trot along briskly, pointedly avoiding eye contact. Seungmin grins. 

“So you actually wanted to see the festival with me? That’s so—” 

You quickly shut him up by slugging him hard on his arm while glaring at him menacingly. “I’ll murder you in your sleep if you even think about finishing that sentence.”

Groaning, he clutches at his arm and meekly shuts up. 

By the time you’ve reached the festival, it’s already late. They chose to hold the festival by the bridge this year, lighting up the water of the canal with a thousand different lanterns in a multitude of shapes and colors. And even if he’d much rather be lounging on the couch of his apartment right now, Seungmin has to admit that the view is stunning. You stand by the edge of the water and watch as the lanterns float past, breathless and panting as your eyes slide over the brilliant glow. 

You are busy snapping a picture of a cat lantern when Seungmin comes to stand by you. Your hands just slightly graze each other, and Seungmin can just feel the cool press of your skin against his own. If he just moves his hand a little, he’ll be able to interlock your fingers and—

You take your hand away to brush a strand of hair away from your face. 

Fuck. 

Seungmin spends the rest of the festival thinking about what things could have been if that goddamn strand of hair had not ruined everything. 

[4.]

“The problem is that you’re too hesitant,” Jisung informs Seungmin through a thick bite of brownie. 

Seungmin groans, threading his fingers through his hair. “I know I’m too hesitant! That’s the entire problem! I just don’t know how to fix it.”

Jisung nods sympathetically as he listens, taking another thoughtful bite of brownie. Seungmin never thought he’d ever find himself coming to Jisung out of all people for counseling, but here he is, anyway. 

“You just have to do it. Like, don’t even think about it. Just grab their hand.”

Actually, Seungmin doesn’t understand why he chose to ask Jisung for advice in the first place, considering the fact that his relationships rarely last for any longer than a month. Given his easy-going personality and attractive visuals, it’s not as if Jisung doesn’t have an unending list of admirers. But someone like Jisung has always been too busy to date, and his relationships almost always end in messy breakups due to lack of quality time. 

Then again, Seungmin is desperate.

“So I just.. go for it? Like just reach out and hold their hand?” 

Jisung nods earnestly. 

“Yup. Just like that.”

Doubt curls through Seungmin’s chest as he considers Jisung skeptically. “That genuinely sounds like the worst plan I’ve—” 

Jisung shuts him up with a dismissive snort. 

“Just try it,” he implores, “it’ll be fine.”

Seungmin still thinks that the entire idea is terribly impulsive and very much likely to lead into a catastrophe. But Jisung looks at him with such conviction in his eyes that Seungmin finds himself agreeing to give the plan a try, although he threatens to never buy him cheesecake again if the plan fails. 

He meets up with you the next day at your apartment because you insisted on rewatching Vincenzo with him. Jisung tags along just to supervise and make sure that Seungmin finally manages to succeed in holding your hand and brings Chan along with him because he refuses to “be the third-wheel.” Seungmin argues that it’s kind of impossible to be the third-wheel when it’s you and him, especially since you interact with him solely through threats and menacing gazes, but Jisung insists on coming along anyway. 

By the time the fourth episode starts playing, Jisung has started to pester Seungmin incessantly, tapping at his shoulder and nodding towards you, gesturing wildly (but as subtly as possible) for Seungmin to attempt to hold your hand. Seungmin eventually gives in after Jisung starts full-on smacking him on the arm, sighing and motioning for Jisung to settle down. 

Taking a deep breath, he inhales deeply and reaches across your lap to grab your hand. He doesn’t even bother looking sideways, too nervous to manage to meet your eyes. There’s a bead of sweat gathering by his temple as he gropes blindly, searching for your hand. 

Instead, his hand grabs something firm and slightly fleshy. 

There is a long silence as Seungmin slowly turns his head to see his arm, stretched across your lap, and his hand, firmly grasping Chan’s thigh, missing your hand by a good six inches. Chan lets out a surprised gulp as he stares down at Seungmin’s hand, turning to glance at Seungmin questioningly. 

Jisung facepalms so loudly that the sound of his palm smacking against his forehead resonates through the room. 

Seungmin blushes furiously and quickly withdraws his hand, mumbling a hasty apology. Chan brushes off his apology good-naturedly, although his ears are colored red. You stare at him confusedly as he hurriedly retracts his hand, perplexity written across your face. 

Fucking Han Jisung and his stupid fucking ideas, Seungmin thinks, pointedly turning to glare at Jisung accusingly. Jisung ignores his ominous gaze as he obstinately stares at the screen of the TV and plays with the rings on his fingers. 

There is something like suppressed laughter on his face, and Seungmin officially decides to never get Han fucking Jisung another white chocolate raspberry cheesecake ever again, no matter how desperately he begs. 

[5.]

“Yah, Kim Seungmin,” you say, your voice grainy through the phone. “You still haven’t eaten lunch yet? Idiot. It’s already 4 pm. Come over, I’ll cook something for you.” 

“Okay,” Seungmin whispers, and smiles to himself. 

God, he likes you so, so much. 

When he arrives at your apartment, you’re leaning over the stovetop, an apron tied around your waist. He comes to stand next to you, observing the chicken soup that you’re stirring over a low heat. You don’t look up from the soup as you gesture towards the dishwasher. 

“Go get some bowls. The soup’s almost ready.” 

Seungmin obediently makes his way to the dishwasher, grabbing two porcelain bowls and placing them next to you on the countertop. “You didn’t have to go out of your way to cook me soup, you know.”

You let out an indignant scoff. 

“Bold of you assume that I cooked the soup for you.” 

Seungmin gives a soft chuckle. When he has spent so much time around you, it is easy to see right through you. Even so, he doesn’t say anything. 

You spoon the fragrant broth of the soup into the bowls and carry them to the dining table, gesturing for Seungmin to sit down. You drink your soup in silence, giving an approving nod at the rich, saltiness of the broth. Seungmin watches you quietly, longing ripping at his throat. 

Your hand is placed right in between the two of you— it comes so naturally to Seungmin that it almost feels surreal. 

You watch, silent, as he gently reaches up to run his fingertip along the inside of your forearm, slowly making his way up to your wrist. Your skin is smooth and warm underneath his touch— he can feel your pulse beating wildly underneath the thin skin of the inside of your wrist. For a long moment, the two of you sit in silence, eyes trained to the fingertip he drags across the back of your hand. 

And yet, just as he’s about to wrap his fingers around your hand, you quickly yank your hand away, ears red. Seungmin stares at you questioningly as you lift your hand to place it into your lap, bending down to sip at your soup. 

There is a light dusting of pink across your cheeks and a slight sheen of sweat on your forehead. You seem adamant to ignore his gaze as you stare down at your bowl of soup. 

Seungmin has always hated making assumptions. But he can’t help but wonder if you want him just as much as he wants you. 

[+1]

It is exhausting to be in love with someone like you. 

Seungmin knows it. He knows it too well. 

You are so full of contradictions that Seungmin never truly knows what you want. It is hard to love someone who pushes you away even as they draw you in closer, who is so brittle at the edges, and yet so soft underneath. 

But then you will tell him to dress warmer unless he wants to catch a cold, in that nonchalant voice of yours. You’ll tell him to stop skipping his meals, the warmth of your words buried underneath your careless facade. You’ll slip into his bedroom and place a mug of green tea by his desk whenever he’s studying himself sick, silent as you set it down next to him. And Seungmin will remember, yet again, why he fell for you in the first place. 

You text him a few days later, telling him to come over for a study session after you’ve finished with class. He agrees promptly, partially because he could never resist when it comes to you, and partially because he really needs to figure out chemical entropy and thinks that a study session would be quite beneficial. 

When he arrives at your apartment, your bedroom door is sealed tightly shut and you are nowhere to be found. 

Seungmin slowly makes his way to the bedroom doorway and knocks apprehensively, hesitant. 

“Go away,” you say, voice muffled. 

Seungmin opens the door anyway. 

He is greeted by the sight of a lump on your bed. It squirms a little when he comes in, indignant. “Seungmin, I told you to—” 

Seungmin sits by the side of your bed and tugs at the blankets cocooned around your body. You clutch tightly at the sheets, refusing to let him unravel the thick swaddle of blankets. Seungmin lets out a tired sigh. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you say. You are uncharacteristically quiet after that. 

Seungmin finally succeeds in yanking the sheets out of your fists and you tumble out of the swathe of blankets, sprawling onto the bed. Seungmin’s breath catches in his throat as your eyes meet his own. 

They are red-rimmed and brimming. Just a brief second of eye contact causes the tears to spill over, leaving warm salty streaks across your cheeks. 

Seungmin stares at you blankly as you cry and wonders what the fuck he should do. After all, he has seen you do a lot of things, but crying is not one of them. 

He’s never seen you like this, curled up on the bed sheets, eyes glazed and glassy, impossibly fragile as the tears trail down your cheeks. For someone so brittle, you fall apart so easily underneath his gaze. 

Very slowly, he sits down by your bedside. “What happened? Did someone say something?”

You don’t say anything. 

So Seungmin takes your hand in his own and guides you to him, wrapping his arms around your torso. You bury your face into his shoulder, clutching tightly at the hem of his t-shirt and—

Oh, this is quite nice, actually. 

You’re curled up against him, tears seeping into the cloth of his shirt. And Seungmin has never been this close to you, doesn’t know how exactly to act when you’re pressed up to him like this, trembling in his arms. But he presses you closer, anyways, and allows you to soak his shirt, even though it’s a relatively new shirt and he hates to see it ruined and the wetness of your tears are kind of uncomfortable as they stick to his skin. 

He holds you like this for a long time, until the tears finally subside. 

“Now can you tell me what happened?”

You shift against him, turning your head to press your cheek into his chest. “I just had a really bad day.” 

Seungmin reaches up a gentle hand to smooth over your ruffled hair. He almost feels compelled to tease you, just because it’s what’s typically expected of him in your push-and-pull relationship. But instead, he nods and pulls you closer. “That happens sometimes.” 

You exhale in agreement. “Yeah. Yeah, it does.” 

Your hands are still laced together, Seungmin realizes. He almost wishes your head wasn’t pillowed on his chest right now, because he feels for sure that you can hear his racing heartbeat pulsing underneath his skin. There is a moment of silence as you press against him, squeezing his hand, before you tilt your head up to gaze at him. 

Seungmin’s cheeks flush red as you study him slowly, eyes sliding over his face. And then you’re leaning over, lips brushing across his collarbone. Seungmin’s thoughts are painted white as your free hand comes up to cup his jaw, pressing closer to graze your lips against the column of his throat, against the line of his jaw, the ridge of his cheekbone. 

A long pause, a heavy tension settling in the atmosphere of the room. And then you’re kissing. 

He isn’t sure how it happens. He isn’t sure he exactly cares. Your hands are still pressed together as you press forward to kiss him harder, lips moving against his own. You are so gentle in his arms, so yielding compared to your usual demeanor of fire and steel, that Seungmin regrets not doing this a long time ago. 

You lean back after a bit, eyes hazy as you gaze at him. Seungmin allows a moment of silence before clearing his throat to speak. 

“I can’t believe you just made out with the same guy you call an idiot at least five times a day.” 

You grin. “It’s all part of my calculated plan to get you to fall head over heels for me.” 

Seungmin thinks that he would have fallen head over heels for you either way. He doesn’t tell you, of course (he has much more sense than that) but he allows himself to think it. 

He leans forward, eyes curious as he gazes at you. “How long have you liked me for?” 

You narrow your eyes. “And why does it matter?” 

Seungmin rolls his eyes. 

“I just wanted to know,” he protests, and pokes at your thigh. “So? For how long?” 

“I don’t know,” you say, feigning nonchalance, although your red ears betray you right away. “Three years by now? It’s not like I’ve been counting.” 

(Knowing you, you most definitely have been counting.) 

“I’m kind of wounded that it took you three years to finally decide to kiss me.”

You snort. 

“I only kissed you because you were too much of a coward to do it yourself, you know.”

“Still!” Seungmin protests, “it’s hurtful to think about.”

You laugh, leaning forward to grab his hand and yank him to you. “Come here, then. I’ll kiss it better.” 

Seungmin doesn’t have to be told twice. 

tree swing.

mingi x reader; enemies to lovers au

word count: 10k

angst, fluff, smut

age 7:

the first time you met mingi, you both ended up with bloody noses and you had only known each other for fifteen minutes. a moving van was backed into the driveway of your new home, boxes of furniture being transported while you snuck away from your duties and opened the white gate to the backyard. 

it was beautiful and spacious, a lot bigger than your old backyard with a multitude of trees and flowers and shrubbery. one swing hung from a branch, just a small piece of wood being held up by rope and you eyed it warily before sucking it up and taking a seat. 

you barely moved your feet as you sat there, observing the back of the house and noting one of the rooms had a balcony attached to it. while you swung lightly, you secretly hoped your parents would allow you to have that room. you loved the idea of being able to read out there during the day or watch the stars at night. 

you hadn’t even wanted to move in the first place. you loved your old school and you loved your old house. you were a part of a group of best friends you’d known since you were five who had all recently decided to join a dance team together. you were so excited to start doing it with them, all of you practicing in the same light purple room you had grown up in since you were a baby. 

but then your parents broke the news to you that you’d be moving in the middle of the summer and you don’t think you’ve ever cried so much in your life. 

“it’s not fair!” you screamed at them through your tears and it hurt them to see you so sad. you begged and pleaded and cried some more even though you knew your efforts were a waste.

the clattering of your gate opening rips you from your memories, head snapping toward it as a tall boy, probably around your age, stomps toward you. his arms were folded and he had a sour expression on his face, planting himself right in front of you and staring down at you.

“uh hi…” you said, although it sounded a lot more like a question. “who are you?”

Keep reading

spoilers : kim seungmin

spoilers : ksm

pairing: college student!seungmin x  college student!gender neutral reader  genre: college au : fluff word count: 1.5k warnings: mentions of death : very very light cursing

✦ 。description: seungmin spoiling the ending of a book you have been wanting to read for so long

“Hey, is this seat taken?”

The university library was a bit packed today. All the chairs were occupied except the one across Kim Seungmin. He was a classmate of yours in one of your subjects for the semester.

Seungmin, behind his laptop, shook his head no with a timid but polite smile. He went straight back to whatever he was working on as you shyly settled yourself. You weren’t necessarily ‘friends’ with him, so it was awkward. Just casual classmates in one subject who know each other’s names.

You sighed, finally having free time today to relax and read the book sitting on your desk for over a month. It was a rather famous novel that everyone seemed to love. Midterm season got the best of you, so it was an understatement how excited you were to start to read something unrelated to your major.

the smell of a newly bought book engulfed your senses as you ran your hand through the pages. ‘is today a good day t—’

“He dies at the end.”

Keep reading

nah, psy got yoongi out here doing choreo choreo, i’m cracking up 😂😂😂 yoongi said now hol up, how did this happen, why my heart rate up 😩🤣🤣🤣

house party - sunghoon

NSFW link

(warning: smut ahead)

“shh, you gotta stay quiet love,” sunghoon innocently smiles, looking down at you with a cute but intimidating grin. his attention had you crumbling to your knees.

sunghoon’s best friend jake had thrown a party in his gigantic house, and the two of you were invited to come. the party was hectic; red cups were scattered on the ground, strangers grinding against each other under the colorful disco lights.

the night was filled with suggestive glances and kisses that lasted a bit too long. sunghoon’s patience lasted for a good hour and a half, until you had to take your jacket off. you were wearing a gorgeous off shoulder dress. your collarbones were all exposed, taunting him to ruin the blank canvas with his lips.

he got up, kindly excused himself, and dragged you to the bathroom.

so now here you are, getting the best finger job you’ve ever gotten in your life.

you came within seconds, his long and slender fingers hitting all the right spots. his head is nestled in your neck, lips all over your neck. your neck was now littered with fresh hickies.

“give me one more baby,” he whispers in your ear. he gets down on his knees, going in between your plush thighs. his head is underneath your dress, so you have no idea what he’s doing. you gasp in shock when you feel his tongue on your pussy.

his tongue swirls around your pearl, then thrusts into your pussy, cleaning up your cum from the previous orgasm. he had a strong grip on your thighs, surely hard enough to leave a bruise the next day.

the stimulation was too much, you cry out as you let out your second orgasm. he doesn’t leave a single drop of cum, he continues eat you out.

suddenly, there’s a harsh knock on the door, the groan from outside is easily recognizable, it’s jake.

“i know you guys are fucking in there, i need my bathroom!” he shouts.

sunghoon peaks out from your dress, looking at you with the most mischievous smirk.

“give me one more?” he whispers.

❐ REASONS TO DATE | park sunghoon

precis. all the reasons why you should date sunghoon — a guide by sunghoon himself ( wc. ≃ 2.8k )

genre. fluff, humor, mutual pinning, friends to lovers

warnings. profanities, sunghoon's very bad attempt at asking you out, slightly suggestive at the end, food mentions, sunghoon is a lil' shit, mentions of stress due to school ( who r we even kidding ) ps. i ran this thru editor but if u still still spot mistakes, pls forgive me ty </3

note. always count on tumblr to ruin your headers <3 anyway, happy reading !

even though he acts like a love god, sunghoon is actually a failure in the love department of life.

it’s embarrassing, funny and pitiful at the same time to watch him confess to you— or rather, talk about how much of a blessing he is to this earth, and that you should be honoured for he’s offering you the golden opportunity to date him.

so just like always, sunghoon finds himself sitting next to you before classes, a soft smile dancing on his lips. one may find it painful to not be in the same class with their crush but sunghoon, he doesn’t care. you can always spot him next you before and after classes, during lunch, from home to school and back, even more. and as much as he wishes people would assume you both are dating, there’s only one rumour that spins in the air— sunghoon doesn’t have any shame, and you don’t have the guts to accept your feelings towards him.

but cut to the base line, the truth is a whole another story.

“we should date, y’know?” sunghoon smirks, pointing at you and himself simultaneously as he leans further on the desk next to you for a better look at your face. “you and me.”

you sigh, leaning against the chair. “sunghoon, it’s eight in the morning.”

“and, your point is?”

“my point is that i’m not mentally prepared for this now,” which is partially a lie, partially. mornings are for classes and crying over how your days always start with maths lessons. however, having sunghoon by your side is always appreciated, even though he’s annoying.

“you don’t even have to do much,” he rests his head on his palms, shooting you his infamous smirk as a few students around pretend to gawk at this utterly cheap attempt at flirting. “just say yes when i ask you out on a date.”

“why should i?”

and he sits straight on the chair as if he’s about to present the ten slides long presentation about why you both would be a good couple — which it is, to be specific, except there are no slides, just him rambling, hoping to make sense. and you are enjoying it to bits. “don’t you want everyone to be jealous of you and say, ‘oh my god, yn, your boyfriend is so handsome and hot—”

“no.” you interject, a few chuckles emerging from the stray gazes that have been lingering on you ever since you stepped into the campus. “besides, jake is much much handsome-er than you. even his accent is hot.” and you can hear jake snickering in your head, telling you to keep him out of your lovey-dovey business.

“hey, i can mimic his accent too!” he whines with an offended grimace, and every second testing your ability to keep a straight face. “like, let’s gaur on a date,” he says in a cocky tone, shooting you a smirk accompanied with a wink and you take a deep breath, closing your eyes. you’ve seen enough for today.

“yeah, you’re done. now leave, i have to finish this assignment before science class.” you push his arms, beckoning him to leave while shaking your head in disgust. hearing him imitate, or more like satirise, australian accent was the last thing you were expecting today. you look at him through a peripheral gaze, lips curving into a faint smile at the pout on his face as he stands up, rolling his out.

“geez, and i thought the all rounder yn always finished assignments on time,” you shoot him a glare, hoping no one heard his satirical remark because you definitely don’t want your classmates snitch about how science teacher’s favourite student forgot to do her assignments, and if you’re being honest, you’ve been forgetting to do all the assignments lately. “anyway, see you at lunch, sweetheart.”

it’s an endearment you can never get used to. no amount of banters thrown at sunghoon can ever deny the fact that sunghoon calling you sweetheart made you feel unspeakable things. “i’m fasting today,”

you look up, he has already left. a silly smile makes its way to your lips as you get back to your classwork. so, just as always, cut to the base line, the truth is— sunghoon is aware of your feelings towards him, and you’re set on rejecting him until the end of time; or in this case, until the end of finals, which is due in three weeks.

.

.

.

it’s been ten minutes since you entered the canteen and sunghoon is nowhere to be seen. eating alone is something you’ve despised all your life. you can simply join a bunch of students right now and they would welcome you as if you’ve been their friends for eternity, but your eyes are busy looking for the special someone in the multitude. that is, until you feel someone slide in the empty chair next to you.

“thought you ditched me.” you pout and oh god, you never expected yourself to pout in sunghoon's absence.

“you were waiting for me?” there’s amusement in his voice, a dust of pink adorning his cheeks before his lips morph into a smirk. “my my, yn, are you in love with me?” there it is, the usual sunghoon; and he’s lucky you’re in love with him or else it would’ve been his face and your fist.

“ignoring that,” you roll your eyes. “what took you so long?”

“oh, it’s miss kang and her darned projects,” an exasperated sigh escapes his lips as he leans against the chair, closing his eyes for a brief second before resting his gaze on you. “moving on, have you ever thought about dating me? it’s a golden chance, once in a lifetime.” he brings up the same topic again, pretending he hasn’t been pestering you about the ‘ pros of dating park sunghoon’ for one month and ten days, now. ( yes you count. no you will not tell why )

“how are you not tired of him yet?” sunghoon snickers as sunoo’s voice interrupts his ‘moment’. no, sunoo has no reason to eavesdrop on you and sunghoon’s existingly nonexistent love life. the stars are against him and just happened to pass by. besides if you ask him, sunoo would rather do riki’s assignments for a week than offering to hear about what goes on between you and sunghoon.

you shrug, taking a bite from your lunch. “beats me,”

“hey, if she can tolerate you then of course can handle me as well,” you hear sunoo curse under his breath, sunghoon breaking into mocking laughter and gosh, you are not ready for whatever’s coming up.

“yeah, now stop it you two,” you interrupt before letting things take a turn for worse, a frown settling on sunoo’s face and you figured it was because he could’ve come up with an amazing comeback if you didn’t cut in. “sunoo i have some council work to handle so please tell mr han that i wouldn’t be able to attend his class.” you get up from your seat, feeling sunghoon’s disapproving gaze linger on your unfinished lunch.

and student council work is an excuse. the real is to escape sunoo’s and sunghoon’s endless bickering. truthfully, you do have a lot of pending work because of council. somedays, you would sit inside your class, filling papers and checking reports while letting your eyes trace over all the students having fun in their own bubble, all those who don’t have to worry about school funds and organising functions. all those who do not stray further away from mental stability with every passing day, to put it in jungwon’s words.

you greet the fellow council members, taking a seat in the meeting room for the availability of better privacy and avoid people disturbing you every now and then. people as in sunghoon, and sunghoon because as much as you appreciate and adore his presence, you want to get over with the due work before being offered with another stressful bunch.

amidst all the papers and silence, your eyes take notice of the flavoured milk resting on the table corner opposite to you. you hadn’t seen it before, maybe because you were too busy analysing the documents to let your attention wander on anything else. you grab the drink, there’s a post-it note on it, and you smile at the handwriting.

‘learn to take care of yourself <3’

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.

.

you hear the muffled footsteps of students pacing through the corridor, signifying that the class is over. you check the time, five minutes before the next class starts and if you don’t depart now, you’ll be late. and honestly, you could care less. classes are the least of your concerns right now. your mind has been rather fixating on a certain someone for the past hour. you step out, closing the door before your eyes land upon the said ‘someone’ leaning against the wall with his characteristic smirk. a smile grows on your lips.

“how long have you been waiting?” you ask as sunghoon leads you down the stairs, not caring about the location because wherever it’ll be, it’ll be with him.

“twenty minutes? i was kicked out of class for napping,” as expected from him. besides being amazing at figure skating and nailing extracurricular charts, sunghoon is also good at getting kicked out of the class and detentions. he has a record, quite an impressive one— most number of detentions in november 2021.

he says it’s one of his charms. it may be, not many have the charms of getting detentions once every two to three days. not kicking him out is blatant favouritism, and one might as well add that his charms are hypnotic, for he has every teacher wrapped around him with his honey drizzled words. you agree, you really do. park sunghoon is charming, and a man with charms with a very dangerous thing.

before you realised, you were sneaking towards the school’s terrace, silent footsteps through the hallways to avoid getting caught. however, much to your disappointment, you hear sunghoon’s name echo from a few classrooms behind, making you curse internally. being friends with sunghoon is risky, and skipping classes with him is equivalent to digging your own grave. you feel his hand slide in yours as he pulls you to your right, rushing down the stairs to a much secluded area of the school, finally pulling you inside the art room before shutting the door. trouble follows sunghoon, and this time you’re entangled in its grip as well.

he leans against the walls of the art room— which is currently not in use due to renovation— panting to catch his breath and you can swear, you’ve never seen him look so hot before. “you should date me, yn.”

there it is again. just when you think you should stop with this whole game, giving into your feelings and dating him, sunghoon messes up, straying away from the much awaited opportunity of calling you his lover. “i don’t know why i should date you when i have jake,”

“because dating me is fun.” he replies immediately as if he has been anticipating your statement with an answer residing at the tip of his tongue. “you get a comedian and a model in one.”

and you deadpan. “i do not want a comedian boyfriend.”

he takes a long pause while you try to suppress your laughter. his gaze avoids your sight, fluttering all over the room as he tries to come up with a good reply because hell, he did not just rejected for having god tier humour. actually, sunghoon has believed two things in his life. one, people like humour and second, people like him. and your reply, well, he’s not taking it well. not yet.

but then his eyes perk up, shifting back to you. “i’m hot— literally. my hands are warm unlike yours.” oh, well, he’s not lying. you have terribly cold hands, and you thank god sunghoon is confident enough to stuff your hands inside his pockets, fingers interlaced with yours; and of course you have to pay him back in terms of snacks and your exam notes.

“that’s your reason?” you laugh. who wouldn’t? his awful attempts at flirting are the reasons why jake has saved his number as ‘no bitches,’ with the pleading face emoji. however, if you’d ask sunghoon, he claims he’s single by choice not by fate, and everyone agrees because whatever helps him sleep at night, is all that matters. “thought you’d be better at this, sunghoon.”

“i’m better at many other things though,” something shifts in the air. you look at sunghoon, and his eyes meet yours before landing on your lips, making your heart skip a beat; or actually, a few beats.

the silence is deafening, or maybe it’s not. rather, the silence is dripping with the sexual tension between you, sunghoon and the utter realization that you both are on thin ice, considering you’ve been spotted by a teacher who is probably looking for you like some treasure hidden in the hills.

he takes a small step towards you, tilting his head towards your lips and you let out the fakest laugh possible, wanting to bury yourself six feet under ground because the embarrassment is engulfing you. you look at his face— god, you wish you didn’t. it’s overflowing with confusion, a hint of blush on his cheeks. great, because you did not just cockblock your own crush, who is very much aware of your feelings, by the way.

but you have a reputation to maintain, and the elephant in the room is making it harder for you to formulate your thoughts. so you come up with a question, the best you could’ve done. “how is your project coming out?”

and you wait. an awkward smile on your lips, eyes begging him to say something because the silence is eating you, devouring you— digesting you, even. you scream internally. god speed your love and support towards me.

“i just came up with another reason why you should date me.” now that isn’t something you’d expect from someone who just got cockblocked by his own crush. but again, we’re talking about sunghoon and with sunghoon, anything is possible. besides, you should be glad a conversation is happening after your recent actions.

“what is it?”

“you get to kiss me.” yeah no, he’s unbelievable. there’s a shit eating grin on his face as he inches a little closer and you hate him for making your heart escalate infinitely. “people die to do that, y’know?”

“well, i’m not interested.” you respond, averting your eyes and trying to play it cool.

sunghoon meets your eyes once again. “you’re missing out,”

“i don’t care,”

“you should at l— ,”

“not intereste—”

“is it so hard to tell that i want to kiss you?”

“then do it.” a heavy silence follows with both of you looking at each other with lovestruck gazes. you feel your words echo inside your head, cheeks heating up at your close proximity and before you know it, his lips are on yours while his arms snake around your wait, pulling you closer when you kiss back.

your mind goes blank. he’s kissing you. park sunghoon is kissing you; and you’re kissing back, of course, anyone would. like he said— people die to do that. it’s simple, really— his fingers ghost up your waist, cupping your cheeks, shared breaths twirling between soft gasps for air. and your thought process is just an incoherent chant of ‘we’re going to die if we got caught,’ and ‘at least, i’ll die kissing sunghoon,’— as idiotic as it sounds.

you swear you can hear footsteps approaching and you’re definitely not mistaken. you try to pull away, only for him to tilt your head and deepen the kiss and as fun as it sounds, making out with sunghoon is the last thing teachers want to see you doing after skipping classes together.

you’re done. this time, for real. you count your demerits in your head, one for skipping classes, one for doing scandalous things with him— but then he faintly nibbles on your bottom lip, and you’re gone. your arms circle around his neck, the footsteps are getting louder with every second that passes, your heart racing at an unbelievably high pace.

but then he pulls back, much to your disappointment, leading you inside a very messy closet, if anything. you’re unable to formulate your thoughts. the feeling of his lips lingers on you, keeping you away from thinking reasonably. you hear the door open, a few voices emerging from behind the closet door, and sunghoon pins you against one of the walls inside the closet, lips hovering dangerously close to yours.

“now, let’s keep quiet, yeah?” and then he kisses you again.