Cherry - Part III

cherry - part III

pairing: good boy!heeseung/bad girl!reader

genre: rich kid au, 80s au, fluff, smut, and angst - minors do NOT interact

warnings: dom!reader, sub!heeseung, i tried to make the setting ambiguous in the previous chapters but it’s pretty obvious in this one that this is set in the united states, entomophobia, mutual masturbation, 69ing, more drunk parents, jealous heeseung, semi-public sex, blowjob, y/n sucks heeseung’s balls (which i feel like yall knew was going to happen), and there is… a lot of crying in this

word count: 14k

a/n: it’s here :’) i cannot thank you guys enough for continuing to look forward to this story and waiting so patiently for it to be updated. here’s part 3. i love you guys a lot <3

cherry playlist here

part 1 here, part 2 here, masterlist here

Keep reading

This deserves so many likes and reposts, are you kidding me?

20k of pure taste, ugh. I just love me a bikers AU and I can legit relate to her just being dazed by all the good looking people she met that night. I would’ve not stopped staring.

death valley — jay park

synopsis. death valley—the heart of southern Seoul’s street racing scene. it’s filled to the brim with drug dealings, murder, and very, very hot people. at least, that’s all what you’d thought, until you’d stumbled across the valley yourself one friday afternoon. that day, filled with anticipation and fear, a certain biker named Jay—and his trailing crew—taught you that death valley wasn’t as half bad as you’d initially thought.

pairing(s). biker/racer!park jongseong x gender-neutral!reader ft. enhypen, winter x karina (aespa), & taehyun (txt)!

genre(s). action, fluff, humour, romance, street racing au, (implied) uni au.

warnings. alcohol consumption, food consumption & mentions, illegal gambling, illegal/street racing, mentions of drugs, profanity, reader gets slightly inebriated but not quite drunk, and suggestive dialogue. rated PG 15.

word count. 19.5k (19505) ik this is scary but BEAR w me!!

taglist. @soobin-chois @hyuckworld @soobverse @svnoofy​ @my5colors​ please fill out this form (or send me an ask w your groups) to be added to my permanent taglist!!

listen to! spotify link OR death valley, fallout boy ⭑ roots, imagine dragons ⭑ back door, stray kids ⭑ jopping, superm ⭑ all in, stray kids ⭑ vroom vroom, charli xcx ⭑ zombie pop, DPR IAN ⭑ desire, ATEEZ (it sucks ik 😭 i’ll edit it as soon as i have time)

notes. ik this is late (by ONE day or u can simply reverse ur clocks 💆‍♀️💆‍♀️) but she’s a bit massive ngl 😭 don’t think dirty i didn’t even remember her being this long (i thought she was 15k MAX) but she’s a whole wopping 19.5k!!!! almost 20k!!! that’s insane! but don’t let the word count scare you 😭 i promise biker!jay is worth it kfsdkfjska and you will love him in this. just trust me!

other, more practical notes to include that pertain to the plot: 1. pls don’t do anything reader does in this fic i BEG 🙏🙏🙏reader is v head empty & has the power of Fanfiction & Main Character Syndrome on their side. pls do not attempt anything in this fic. stay away from strange men in leather in fact!

2. reader is heavily implied to be queer and easily attracted to different ppl 😭 so reader is gonna FLIRT (or at least try to)

3. i don’t condone heeseung’s behaviour AT ALL. he is despicable and downright evil. i just wanted to have a “Bad” character to balance things out.

and that’s it!! i’ve rambled too much & you probably want to get ahead to reading the fic so i won’t stop you! enjoy!! ♡♡ feedback & reblogs are welcome and appreciated!

I – Death Valley Bad

Death Valley was the heart and soul of southern Seoul’s racing scene.

Every Saturday night, there were two main races held there. One held for the bikers and the other held for the drivers. Usually, people attended the bikers’ race. It was cheaper to bet on a biker, there was less exhaust in the air to tire out everyone’s lungs, and its tracks were only a walking distance from the abandoned subway station—which just so happened to be the best hiding location in case the police caught wind of a night’s events. Those who managed to get past the fear of being arrested and crossed the kilometres to the racers’ track either never returned to the bikers’ track or came back but never spoke of what they’d seen. Also, the cars apparently carried cocaine, and the drivers would kill without a second thought if someone tried to steal some.

At least, that’s what you’d heard when you’d moved to Seoul.

Lee Heeseung, the cute little brunet who’d been showing you around your university, had made sure to let you know of the famous valley. His eyes had been wide, and he’d been making crazy hand gestures, but you’d still got the point.

Death Valley bad.

So, why on Earth were you in the infamous valley? That’s what you’d been wondering for the past couple of minutes, on a good ol’ Friday afternoon.

Keep reading

its the way the psychology talk just made it all that better to me cuz i did a psych course two semesters ago 😵‍💫

this was so filthy in the best way possible. i had to take like 3 breaks cuz i was getting out of breath… holy shit. dilf chan is just 😮‍💨 im dizzy

Pleasure Principle

Pairing — Chan x reader

Wordcount — 8k of story, 200 words of psychoanalytic theory at the beginning (i am sorry, i had to!)

Includes — DILF!Chan, perv!characters, mentions of alcohol (but both characters are completely sober), mentions of reader's parents drinking alcohol, mentions of divorce, use of pet names, oral sex (m.), mild humiliation, deepthroating, frottage, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie.

Author's note — Finally the dilf!chan fic i thought about writing while being in class, haha. Hope you enjoy! It has been a while sinxe the last time I wrote something but I kind of enjoyed and had fun with this one, so I hope you all like it as well. English is not my first language, i haven't read this and i am falling asleep because its 3.50 a.m. so please, please excuse any misspelled words or grammar mistakes!

If you wish to support my writings further, please buy me a ko-fi. As a college student, I appreciate it s lot!

The pleasure principle, the driving force of the id that seeks immediate gratification of all needs, wants, and urges.

As read in the Case of Schreber, Papers on Technique and Other Works, Freud’s theories might seem outdated, but that doesn’t mean he was far from reality when he thought about all those things.

The id —the most basic and animalistic part of the personality—tends to be buried at the deepest, unconscious level of our minds. Freud thought that such part was present from birth, unlike the others. During early childhood, the id controls the majority of behavior and, as a result, children act on their urges for food, water, and various forms of pleasure in a way that might not be acceptable to do as an adult. As one gets older, the ways of satisfying such needs change —people no longer cry or scream when they are hungry, as kids do.

With the development of the ego, which is concerned with reality, the id’s needs are met, but in ways that are acceptable in the real world. The ego operates through what Freud referred to as the reality principle, whereas the id is driven by the pleasure principle —the former opposes the instinctual urges of the latest.

It sounds complicated, but Chan’s conflict made it seem pretty easy to understand; he wanted to fuck you, he needed to have you underneath him, with your legs around his hips, trembling and moaning his name.

But he couldn’t. So he satisfied himself in other ways that were more appropriate for someone like him —someone in his mid 30’s, divorced, and with more work responsibilities than social life.

Chan couldn’t remember the first time he felt attracted towards you, but he remembered the first time he acted on it.

He was at a business dinner at your place, one of many, and he vividly recalled you wearing a short, tight dress and a shade of lipstick he thought it was pretty —to this day, the color is still imprinted on his mind. You were sitting across from him, with your father next to you and your mother next to your father.

Business dinners were always boring for Chan, but they were the height of his social life in recent years —after his divorce, there was nothing much other than work in his day-to-day. At first, he went to such events out of commitment, he wasn’t particularly excited attending them, but he still felt the need to do so because it was all part of his work environment.

Later on, he found himself wanting to go to them just for the sake of seeing you. He would endure the whole duration of the dinner to be able to hang around you, even when he thought he was completely indifferent to you.

However, being around you was not an easy task. Or at least not for him.

The day you were wearing the short, tight dress, Chan remembered he had to fight the urges of glancing at your body shamelessly. You were sitting with your legs crossed, one on top of the other, and your thighs were at his full sight.

As he tried to follow the thread of the conversation your father and a few other business partners were having, he found himself being strained by an intrusive thought: your body sitting on his lap with his cock between your thighs, hips bucking into you while your own wetness provided the delicious friction he needed to get off.

The filthy fantasy repeated on his head a couple of times before he started feeling guilty about it —you were sitting right in front of him, with that angel-like face, smiling and without knowing the perverted thoughts he, a man that was at least 10 years older than you, was having about you. Still, the guilt wasn’t enough for his erection to go away.

So, as the principle of reality states, he found an appropriate way to satisfy his needs without compromising anyone else: he rushed to the guest’s bathroom, locked the door, and proceeded to jerk himself off while thinking about you.

The world kept on turning for all those who were outside that small room, but not for him.

For him, the whole world stopped spinning —the only things in his mind were your thighs, your lips, and the sensations he was providing himself with his hand. His head was thrown back, his eyes were closed, his eyebrows furrowed, and his mouth slightly opened, just enough so that a couple of breaths and sighs escaped through it.

The clock was ticking, and he needed to return to that living room, sit down, and pretend that he didn’t do what he was doing at that moment, but that represented no issue for him. He knew he was going to come fast, but he failed to consider how hard he was going to do it. The sink, and even the mirror, suffered the consequences of such underestimation —consequences he had to wipe away with a paper towel as the guilt washed upon him.

Still, he couldn’t help but think about how much of a waste that was. Even when dwelling in shame, he fantasized about pumping all of himself inside you instead of having to clean the remains with toilet paper.

After a couple of minutes of erasing the trace of such lewd action, Chan arranged his clothes, washed his hands, and walked out of the bathroom as if nothing had happened.

His business partners were still drinking and chatting, and you were still there, sitting across the available spot Chan had left, in the exact same position and wearing the exact same smile. Everything was still the same, yet he was different —by masturbating to the thought of you, he had gone to a point of no return.

Because of that, that one was not an isolated incident.

Every time Chan visited your place for one of the usual business dinners your father hosted, he would have to touch himself to the thought of you. At first, he did in the guest’s bathroom of your house —like the first time. Then, he learned to control his impulses a bit more and only did it after arriving at his apartment.

The common denominator on such actions was always you. Even though he tried to get off while thinking about one of his co-workers who were really into him, nothing could get him to approach his orgasm as the thought of you did.

Not even real sex could, and that was a problem.

Every time he was with someone else, the intrusive images of your body and face always reached him and the worst part was that it was those images who always got him to come —nor the woman he was with, nor the stimulation she was providing him worked like the thought of you did.

And even though he felt guilty, there was nothing much he could do about his attraction towards you.

On one of the latest business dinners hosted at your house, you were absent. Chan didn’t think much of it until your father mentioned that you were out on a date. Your relationship status was indifferent to Chan, yet he found himself feeling a blazing sentiment inside his guts at the idea of you being fucked by someone else. Of course, he knew dates weren’t always sexual, but the possibility of yours being one was there, so he couldn’t completely rule it out.

That night, Chan drove home thinking about you and your date. A date he knew nothing about, but still took guesses on it. He thought about you being with another man your age. He thought about what that man could do to satisfy you and he was certain he could do it a thousand times better.

But he was in his own world, and you were in yours, so there was nothing between the both of you who could cause an encounter of such nature.

Or at least that was what he thought.

You weren’t narcissistic, yet you were fully aware of the power some women held over men.

In your case, you were fully aware of the power you held over him, even though he tried his best to hide it. But trying your best doesn’t always assure you success, and that was the case with Chan —one of your father’s youngest business partners and the protagonist of every wet dream you have had since you turned 21.

You vividly remembered the first time you saw him in the living room of your house, sitting with the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up and his legs spread. That day you were coming home after a college night class and you were feeling tired, yet the image of that unknown man was enough to perk you up, motivate you to take a shower, and sit at the dining room with your mother, father, and a few of business partners.

You didn’t dare to talk to him, but you still listened to the whole conversation that was held during that dinner; they talked about work, contracts, money, and a lot of irrelevant stuff that in no way fulfilled the curiosity you had on that man.

So far, the only things you knew about him were his name, the relationship he had with your father, and what kind of car he drove —a Mercedes SL65. But, other than that, nothing that was said was useful to you until one of the other business partners asked a question at which the whole table went silent: “So Chan, how are you holding up?”

Your father gave the man a challenging look —almost as if he was scolding him for being inopportune— and picked up on the question in a more friendly manner. “How have you been feeling these days?”

At first, Chan seemed timid. But he didn’t hesitate on answering the question, so you could only assume that he was not that touched about the subject of it.

“It was a tough decision to get to, but I don’t take it back,” he replied, grabbing the whiskey glass nonchalantly and taking a sip from it. “The apartment feels very lonely nowadays without the kids, but everything ended in good terms —I visit them often and that’s not a problem at all”.

After that, you knew his name, the relationship he had with your father, the kind of car he drove, his relationship status, and the existence of not one but some children of his own.

But you didn’t care how old he was, nor how many kids he had, nor how uninterested he was about you, you still fantasized about him that night.

In the middle of things, you recalled a word he used while answering the question: “lonely”. He said his apartment felt lonely, so you could only assume that he was feeling that way as well. Of course, he wasn’t going to expose himself in front of his co-workers and partners, but that’s usually how one feels after ending a relationship —or at least you knew that much.

So, in your fantasy, you took advantage of such a thing.

You seduced and drove him insane to the point of him needing to have his way with you. You teased him enough so that he had no other choice than to seek solace in your body, getting drunk in the feeling of your youth in opposed to what he knew with his ex-wife.

In your fantasies, he fucked you raw and hard. He bent you over the nearest surface he could find, and he degraded you for provoking him, telling you how much of a slut you are and how filthy you are for offering yourself to him that easily.

But then again, that was only a fantasy. One of many, but fantasies at the end of the day.

And the principle of pleasure and the principle of reality were also there; you wanted to fuck him, but you couldn’t approach him with such a request so you fantasized about him as much as you could.

In that matter, you and Chan weren’t that different from each other.

But in a certain way, you were. You felt attracted towards him and you wanted him, so why’d not have him?

What was stopping you from fulfilling that need you had?

Chan was attached to these unspoken moral rules he forced himself into, thinking that it was a deviant behavior to desire someone way younger than him —even worse when that someone was the daughter of one of his business partners. Chan had an excuse to not act on his instincts, but you didn’t.

So once again you asked yourself: What is stopping me?

That day was the day.

That morning you heard your mother and father talking about an event. Apparently, it was the birthday of one of your father’s closest friends and co-workers, and they were organizing a special celebration for him that night.

They could easily organize such events at restaurants or private clubs, yet your father always preferred to offer his house because, according to him, such small action reinforced solidarity and intimacy in the work environment. Not all of such plans were made at your place, but most of them were, and that night's was no exception.

However, birthday celebrations were far different from business dinners —if there was one thing you had learned from the ones hosted at your house was that your father’s friends knew how to have fun. They liked to drink, and they got completely wasted at such parties. At times, couples would even stay over in your living room because they were too drunk to even drive.

And because it was your parents organizing such things at the comfort of their home, they would also get immersed in that fun. Usually, you would make plans to avoid interacting with them in the middle of such a situation, but that night you chose not to. And the whole day you spent it thinking about how to proceed with the fantasies you had in mind.

Not even for a second you doubted Chan’s attraction towards you since it was pretty obvious; the way he looked at you and fucked you with his gaze alone betrayed him every damn time. Yet you were unsure if he was going to give in or not.

Still, you had one thing clear: everyone yields to temptation if you push them far enough, and Chan was definitely not going to be an exception for this.

While thinking about all of this, the day passed by much faster than you had anticipated. Whether it was out of nervousness or excitement, the night approached you earlier than usual and you soon found yourself all dressed up and ready to go downstairs.

It was unusual to see you at home on a Friday night, yet you were sure your parents weren’t going to question such a thing and, if they did, you would simply tell them that you had nothing else better to do —which was partly true.

When the clock marked 22:18, you decided to walk out of your room; it was a perfect time, not too early and not too late. By then, all the guests should’ve arrived yet the sobriety would still be present, and you needed Chan to be sober.

As soon as you started walking downstairs, you were welcomed by the faint bustle coming from the living room and yard. Everyone was either having dinner or drinking in company, yet Chan was nowhere to be found.

“I thought you were sleeping already,” your mother mumbled as he approached you near the entrance to the yard. “Are you going out?”

You shook your head.

“Then why are you all dressed up?” she queried.

“I wanted to come down,” you mumbled, your eyes dangling on the glass she was holding with her hand. “I was bored upstairs”.

“Ah,” she replied, not suspecting the underlying intentions of your presence. “Well, people brought different dishes. If you want to have dinner, they are all in the kitchen”.

You nodded and she continued her way to the yard, approaching your father who was sitting with a few of his friends while drinking.

Perhaps he couldn't make it, you thought to yourself. But you were sure you overheard your father speaking on the phone with him, and you were even more sure that his answer had been positive because your father had mumbled an “i'll see you tonight” —yet he was nowhere to be found.

Out of politeness, you decided to stop for a while at the yard. You greeted your father, who you hadn't seen since the early morning, and you greeted the resy of his friends as well. Some of which you knew them for a while, but others were completely un known to you. You even greeted the birthday man, who you personally didn't know but whose name had popped up in a lot of conversations between your father and the rest of his co-workers, in hopes of buying more time.

“Y/n,” your mother voiced, rising her arm to attract your attention. “Why don't you bring some snacks from the kitchen?”

You nodded and fulfilled her request, walking along the dining room and into the kitchen thinking that perhaps you could use a snack or two. You weren't really hungry to have a full meal, yet a snack sounded nice.

“It's just a contract,” the exasperated voice of a man interrupted your trail of thoughts. He was clearly on the phone and not walking to you, yet you couldn't help but be nosy. “The longer he waits, the messier things are going to get”.

Chan.

“I really don't care about what situation his company is in right now,” he mumbled, “I need his signature by yesterday”.

The voice went quiet and you could only assume that the other person in the line was speaking, probably saying things that were upsetting Chan because all you could hear were faint scoffs and curses.

Nevertheless, his discussion didn't stop you from walking into the kitchen as if he you didn't hear him scolding the poor soul on the call.

“Do whatever you need to,” he articulated, recovering his composure. “I'll call you tomorrow morning”.

You walked past behind him, not even acknowledging his presence yet his eyes were all over you.

Just like you planned it.

His gaze fixed on the lower neckline of your dress and then traveled to the flesh on your soft tighs. The dress was tight around your figure just fine and, for a moment, Chan completely forgot what had happened mere seconds ago.

“Stressful night?” you asked him casually, organizing the cookies and other snacks into the tray you were going to deliver in the table at the yard.

You turned around to face the kitchen cabinets behind you and Chan couldn't stop himself from staring at your arse. He even went as far as fantasizing about bending you over the kitchen counter, lifting up your dress and just pounding himself inside you to release the stress.

Reality principle.

“I've had worse,” he sighed, analyzing every single one of your movements; from the way your arms reached out to organize the tray, to the way your hips swayed from side to side ever so slightly, Chan couldn't stop looking at you.

Even though he had been at your place countless times, that was the very first time you spoke to him privately. Sure, you greeted him every once in a while when he attended the business dinners and you happened to be there, but your words were never out of the default interactions: Hello, good morning/good afternoon/good night, how have you been, Mr. Bang?

“All of the guests are in the yard,” you commented, taking a bunch of napkings and placing them right next to the tray. “Aren't you going to join them?”

“I had to take this call,” he replied. “I'll join them in a few minutes”.

You nodded and picked up the tray, carrying it on your walk back to the yard.

You spent the whole day planning how to approach him and now that you had the chance to actually approach him, your best move was to ask him about how stressful his night was?

Good job, Y/n.

“Thank you, darling,” your mother expressed as she saw you coming into the yard. She stood up from her seat and walked towards you, removing the tray from your hands and placing it on the table. “Did you take a look at the dishes people brought?”

You nodded.

“If you are hungry, you can eat something”. You nodded again while murmuring a faint “thank you” and proceeded to walk back to the kitchen.

You were just about to enter the living room when your father's voice interrupted your actions, making you brake in your tracks.

“Y/n,” he spoke. “Is Chan still on his call?”

You swallowed hard. Even someone mentioning his name so casually made you nervous.

“Yes,” you lied. “He seemed frustrated, I am guessing the call is going to take a while”.

“Ah!” your father sighed, “I told him not to work with that client but he just never listens. He always want to have things his way”.

You continued your path towards the kitchen and, much to your surprise, Chan was still there. In the exact same position as before, glancing at the place you were organizing the tray of snacks.

“What are you doing here on a friday night?” he asked you out of the blue, startling you.

“I didn't have any plans,” you replied, pouring some fresh water on a glass. “Got bored and decided to come downstairs to see what all the bustle was about”.

Chan hummed and took a sip from the glass on his hand.

“Don't you want some water?” you asked him, pouring some of the jar in another. empty glass. “Being upset and drinking alcohol it's not a good combination”.

Chan scoffed and raised one of his eyebrows —a subtle way to tell you that you had no business giving opinions on something private, yet he kindly took the glass from your hand.

“When your work life stresses you, alcohol goes with anything,” Chan mumbled, drinking the whole glass in one sit.

“Guess I'll find out in a year,” you murmured, drinking from the glass of water you had prepared for yourself earlier.

Chan's eyes fixed on the way you attached your lips to the glass and, for a split second, he felt an electric sensation between his legs.

You were wearing a shade of lipstick similar to the one he recalled, and the way your eyes stared at him while drinking from the glass made him think a lot of sinful scenarios, to say the very least.

“Is there anything I can do to help you relax?”

The question slipped out of your lips without giving it a second thought and, as soon as you saw Chan's countenance, you immediately regretted it.

Get on your knees, stick your tongue out and let me fuck your throat until you are a drooling mess.

“I don't think so,” Chan replied, feeling ashamed of the perverted fantasies that came to mind when you asked him such innocent question.

Because up until that point, Chan firmly believed that the only one interested was him and that none of your actions had underlying intentions to them.

“Are you sure?” you asked again, unsure of what you were expecting for an answer.

Chan's dark gaze fixed on you and he tilted his head, a look of confusion soon appeared on his face as he took notice of your odd behavior.

“Is there something you want to do to help me?” he asked back, throwing the ball to your court.

In your fantasies, you expected Chan to have the initiative. In reality, however, things were much more complicated than that —Chan rather hesitate than throwing himself all over you with no clue of what you wanted.

He loved being in control. He loved leading the way, being the one with initiative, but he would rather not attempt anything than attempt something and end up looking like a pervert.

“I don't know, it's just—” you took another sip of your water. “After that call, you look very stressed”.

“That's why I am asking,” Chan repeated, feeling his blood traveling and accumulating in one specific point of his body. “Is there something you want to do to help me?”

Only then, you understood that he was giving you the opportunity to offer yourself to him —he was asking such an open question that lent itself to any kind of response. That was his own way to control the situation, even when it looked quite the opposite.

“My father thinks you are still on the call,” you whispered, still with your back against the kitchen counter and mere steps away from Chan's body. “I told them you looked frustrated, so I am sure they are not going to come and look for you”.

Chan's dark gaze looked down on you, almost as if you had destroyed him with such words. He felt guilty, but not because of the situation.

He felt guilty because he knew that he hadn't been strong enough to fight his temptations. He hadn't being strong enough to fight the urges to sneak into the guest's bathroom and jerk off to the thought of you that day, he hadn't being strong enough to fight the need to masturbate every night thinking about you, and he certainly wasn't strong enough to resist you offering yourself to him.

“I am not sure how I can be useful for you,” you whispered, taking the courage to approach him carefully. His body tensed up once he felt your warmth, and that only proved to you that he needed this just as much as you did. “But perhaps if you instruct me, I can learn how to relieve your stress”.

His eyes traveled to your lips and he stared them for a while, fantasizing about the idea of kissing them.

“I don't think it's appropriate,” he spoke, with much less confidence than he initially intended to.

Chan always felt like the predator chasing its prey, yet, for a few minutes, he felt as if the roles were reversed.

“Then why are you hard?” you innocently asked him, brushing your thigh against his crotch. “If it's inappropriate, then why does it turn you on?”

Chan didn't reply but allowed himself to get lost in the slight stimulation your thigh was providing him when grazing against his bulge.

“If it's innapropriate, then why do you always stare at me when I am around?”

Chan licked his lips and darted you a challenging look, yet he didn't have the courage to speak. He didn't expect for his behavior to be completely under the radar —sometimes he got too lost in his trail of thoughts that he would zone out while looking at you.

Still, having you acknowledging such thing right in front of him made him feel ashamed.

“Don't think I didn't notice,” you mumbled, gaining confidence as Chan lost it, “how you kept on staring at my breasts and thighs like a pervert any chance you could”.

Chan felt cornered, and he didn't like it.

Sure, in any other context he would've admitted his actions and probably apologize for such behavior. However, that was not the case with you.

You were playing that card just for the sake of asserting dominance.

“And if you noticed, then why didn't you stop me?” your body tensed up at his question and Chan couldn't help but feel some sort of gratification. The whole interaction, he felt powerless and he had just managed to turn the tables around.

If something was going to happen, it was going to happen his way.

“All this time you knew that I liked to stared at you,” he breathed, feeling the pressure of your thigh against his bulge even harder now that you were completely tensed. “And yet your dresses got shorter and shorter with each of my visits”.

Soon, you felt breathless. The game you started, and in which you believed you were too good at it, was soon mastered by someone else.

“And even while knowing all that, you are here tonight, offering yourself in a silver tray for me to use,” Chan murmured, leaning forward and grazing your lips against his without actually kissing you. “If I am a pervert for staring, then what are you for giving me more reasons to keep on doing it?”

Your eyes fixed on his and Chan swore he could come just by looking at them. In a matter if minutes, you had lost all the confidence you acquired at the expense of him and now, you were the one in trouble.

“I don't know,” you whispered, you whole body freezing on its place as Chan's hands found their way on your hips. “You tell me”.

“Oh, you don't know?” he asked you with a faint tone of sarcasm in the middle of his words. His hands gripped your hips harshly and, with a swift movement, he pulled you closer to his body than before. His lips approached you ear and, as soon as you felt his breathing against your neck, you melted completely into his arms. “You forgot it already?”

Having him talking down on you like that and with that tone made you feel silly, but you liked it.

“I did,” you breathed, feeling your heartbeats going faster and faster than before. “Please remind me”.

His lips grazed against your earlob and you were secretly hoping for a small peck or for his teeth to nibble at the sensitive skin of it, yet none of those things happened. Chan was teasing you, and you had no idea how long he could play that game before he got tired of it.

“A slut,” he replied, his hoarse voice taking you by surprise. “A filthy little slut that's apparently for my personal use”.

“Not apparently,” you whispered with broken words, squeezing your thighs together and feeling the wetness pooling at your underwear. “I am”.

Chan could tease you for hours on end.

He was good at it. He was good at controlling himself and making the other person lose their senses to the point of agreeing to do whatever it was that he initially wanted.

Chan was that good at it, that his job reflected that quality of him. He was good at having control and he was good at making others lose it.

But when it came to you, things were different. He could control you —that was an easy task.

Yet he couldn't control himself.

He wanted to edge you, tease you and make you wait just as much as he did. But when he heard you confessing how you were at his full disposal, he couldn't hold himself any longer.

“Now that we have had this pleasent talk, I am asking you again,” Chan whispered, still with your lips near your ear, “is there something you want to do to help me?”.

You dropped to your knees in no time, your hands desperately searching for the zipper in his pants to release that thing you had been craving for months now. The place you two were in represented a risk, but you both were too immersed into the moment that no one seemed to care enough about it to move to another room.

“Didn't even have to give you an order,” Chan hissed, letting out a sigh of relief as he felt his throbbing cock getting liberated from his pants, “I am guessing this was what you had in mind when asking me that question”.

Chan was everything you had fantasized and more. He was nowhere near to the men you had slept before and you couldn't decide if that excited you or scared you.

You weren't inexperienced, yet you wanted to play pretend as if you were. You wanted him to teach you how to suck someone off, you wanted him to talk down on you as if your mind was completely empty except for the thought of him. You wanted Chan to help you through the whole process —all while being treated with absolutely no respect by him.

“Your actions tell me you have done this countless times,” Chan murmured, one of his hand caressing your hair while the other one did the same on your cheek. “Am I wrong?”

“You could be,” you teased him, taking his cock with both of your hands while you sticked your tongue out to have a taste.

“So you don't know how to take cock in that pretty mouth of yours?” Chan queried, even while knowing it was a blant lie. “Do I need to everything for you?”

You nodded slightly while fixing your eyes on his and giving kitty-licks to the tip of his cock. “Please?”

Chan was just about to act on your words when the sudden reality hit him out of nowhere. He was in the kitchen of your house, with his cock out and you kneeling right in front of it —anyone could walk in and witness the scene, including your parents.

“Alright,” he panted, taking a few steps away from your kneeling figure and fixing his pants. “But not here”.

Just a few seconds passed by before Chan had you kneeling front of him again, with your tongue out and your hands behind your back.

“Hungry?” he asked you, unzipping his pants again and exposing all of himself to you. Your hands reached out to grab the base of his cock and you continued your ministrations, swirling your tongue against the tip of his cock while your hands lowered his pants just a bit more so you could have access to his balls. “You better suck me off properly —after all, you did all that downstairs for a reason”.

You smiled with your lips against his dick and Chan felt as if he was going to explode just with that innocent sight alone. He couldn't process half of what was happening and he didn't want to.

He wanted to focus on you. On your lips against him and your tongue against his cock.

“I am telling you,” you murmured, blinking slowly while your tongue wrapped around his cock and your hands teased his balls. “I need help with this”.

Chan licked his lips and scoffed at your words, feeling somewhat turned on at the fact that you utterly wanted to be used in all the sense of the word.

“You want my help?” he hummed, his hands traveling to your hair and gripping it harshly to prevent it from falling on your face. “Pull your dress down”.

You followed his command docilely, the hands that were once touching him now pulling down the top part of your dress to release your breasts.

Just like he imagined them.

“You have such perfect tits,” Chan groaned while he stared at your breasts. You took them in your hands, massaging and playing with them for his own delight. “I can't wait to see how they will look while I am fucking you”.

The hidden promise behind his words made you clench around thin air, yet you couldn't get to explore that fantasy just yet.

Or at least not when you were this occupied.

Chan gathered all of your hair again and guided the tip of his cock to your parted mouth.

“Just a few rules,” he mumbled, rubbing the tip of his cock against your soft lips.

“Is this a game now?” you queried, scoffing.

“The whole time you had been acting as if this is some sort of game for you,” Chan murmured, pulling your hair harshly and forcing you to make eye contact with him. “So you wouldn't mind if I set a few rules, right?”.

You shook your head.

“Good,” he breathed with a smile that resembled more a smirk. “If you want me to stop, tap my thigh two times”, Chan mumbled, softening the grip on your hair. “I don't want to feel like you are holding back —I want to hear you gagging and choking around my cock, I want to hear you struggling to breathe and, unless you tap my thigh twice, I won't stop”.

You nodded at his words eagerly, impatient to have his cock inside your mouth.

“And lastly, I want you to drool all over it,” he murmured. “Get my cock nice and wet, because that way is going to be easier to fuck you the way I like it”.

Rough, messy, and intense.

You nodded again. At that point your mind was completely empty and the only things you could think of were his cock and the longing for being fucked by him.

Without saying anything else, Chan guided his cock to your mouth with one hand while the other gripped a fistful of your hair harshly.

He started of slow, giving you plenty of time to adjust. His eyes held a fair amount of concern behind them and it was more than obvious that —underneath that tough and dominant countenance— he was worried that he might hurt you.

He knew you weren't a virgin, but he didn't know how experienced you were. Of course, he was always going to be 3 or 4 steps ahead from you in that and many other aspects.

Only when he noticed that your mouth and throat were completely ready to be used by him, he started to acquire a faster pace.

“You feel perfect around me,” Chan groaned while having his eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed. “I wonder if your cunt feels just as warm and wet as this hole does”.

You unconsciously clenched your walls at his words and his cock muffled a faint whine from your mouth.

Chan's gaze fell down on your image and he still couldn't believe it wasn't a dream. You were kneeling in front of him, with your breasts bouncing with each thrust of his cock in your mouth and your teary eyes fixed on his.

“Why are you crying, baby?” Chan asked shamelessly. “Thought you wanted my cock yet you can't take it properly without crying”.

You wiped away the tears and stared at him with a challenging look, fighting the urges of your eyes to roll to the back of your head. You thought you looked pathetic, yet Chan found it hot.

“Just a bit more,” Chan hissed through gritted teeth, pushing your head completely over his length until your nose touched his pubic area. “Make a mess on it and I might reward you”.

You coughed around him a few times before your digits tapped on his thighs twice.

Immediately, Chan pulled you away from his dick and you gasped for air as the drool fell from your mouth and onto your breasts.

It was definitely a sight that made Chan's cock throb between your hands.

“What a good girl,” Chan praised with a faint, mocking tone in his voice. His eyes were lost in that string of saliva that connected his cock with your mouth. “You do know how to follow rules”.

You felt messy and dirty, yet you couldn't care less. The taste of his cock and precum still lingered in your mouth, and you just couldn't wait to taste him again.

However, he lost no time and started undressing you. He removed your ruined dress, your soaked panties and your high-heels, only leaving you the pair of stockings you had decided to wear that day.

Between kisses, curses and endless teasing, he got rid of his clothes as well. The both of you were completely naked and at the mercy of each other —just like you both had fantasized for months on end.

Chan laid down on the bed and you straddled him, pressing your wet cunt against his erection.

“You are soaking wet,” Chan breathed, feeling how easily you slipped against his length and lower abdomen.

“It always happens when I am around you,” you admitted timidly, leaning down to leave a trail of wet pecks on his chest, jaw and cheeks.

Then, Chan saw the opootunity and took it. He grabbed the sides of your face and pulled them harshly against his, crashing his lips into yours.

It started off slow, then at some point it brought the desperation out of the both of you. It became sloppy, needy and instinctual. Chan's tongue was tasting yours hungrily, getting drunk at the softness and submission you showed through the kiss.

He kissed you for minutes without stopping to catch air. He kissed you roughly, digging his teeth on your lower lips and pulling them ever so slightly to send waves of pain throughout your body.

He kissed you until he started to feel your hips moving against his length, and he broke the kiss to let out a grunt slip between his lips.

“You are really desperate to be fucked in those holes of you, don't you?” Chan queried in between sighs, his hands guiding your hips along his length, back and forth.

“Mhm,” you whimpered, closing your eyes at the stimulation provided. “In all of them”.

Chan bucked his hips against yours when he heard you saying those words, yet he still needed to wait just a little longer.

“I am so desperate,” you whispered mindlessly, your cunt dragging and grinding agsinst his cock without actually having him inside you. “I've been so desperate for you. This whole time I only thought about you”.

“And what did you think?” Chan hummed, feeling your movements getting sloppier against him.

“About you fucking me,” you whispered, both of your hands pressing against your chest while you kept on grindind against him. “About you using me whenever you please. I just want to be some holes for you to release your stress whenever you feel like it”.

Chan groaned at your words, pressing your body against his erection even harder.

“I don't think you could take it,” Chan teased you, losing his mind at how wet you were and the mess you were doing on his lap.

“I could try,” you pathetically whined, almost cried. “Teach me how to take your cock in each of my holes and I will be your best, personal slut whenever you want”.

Chan closed his eyes and threw his head back against the pillows, feeling how you got wetter and wetter by the second.

“Is that what you truly want?” Chan asked you, lifting your hips from him making you cry at the lost of contact. “Do you want me to train your holes so that you can take me any time I like?”

You nodded eagerly, feeling the tears of frustration streaming down your cheeks.

He turned your body in the bed, making you lay down on your back with your legs spread and your dripping cunt completely exposed for him.

He traced your slit with two of his fingers, coating them with your own fluids, and he forced them inside your mouth.

“Taste yourself,” he breathed, his cock twitching at the now familiar feeling of your tongue. “Taste how wet you get by me”.

You moaned against his digits and Chan felt the vibrations of such sound traveling along his body. Then, with the same hand that was previously inside your mouth, he aligned the tip of his cock against your cunt and, slowly, pushed himself inside you.

“Oh my- fuck,” you cried at the sudden sensation of his dick stretching you open. He pushed it all the way in and your walls took him gladly, clenching around him almost aggresively as he buried his face on your neck. “You feel so fucking hard inside me”.

Chan groaned at your filthy words and didn't move for a few seconds. He wanted to feel your warmth, he wanted to feel your walls clenching around him desperately. He wanted to hear your faint cries and whimpers, knowing he was the one causing them.

Only when he felt that you were ready for him, his hips started to move against yours.

First his movements were gentle, soft and slow. But as soon as you started to demand a faster pace, Chan completely gave in to the most primal and animalistic part of him.

He started to buck his hips against yours faster and it was only a matter of seconds before the knot in your stomach started to appear with the increase of his thrusts.

Your nails digged into the skin of his arms, but he didn't care. You felt too good to be thinking about absolutely anything else.

“You are so tight,” Chan groaned, clenching his jaw. “So fucking perfect around me, your cunt is practically begging for me to come”.

You moaned at his words and arched your back, a perfect position for Chan to lick and suck on your erected nipples as he mercilessly fucked your wet pussy.

“It feels so good,” you cried, locking your legs around his waist. “You are fucking me so good”.

One of his hands sneaked between the bodies of the two of you, his digits cunningly looking for your clit and rubbing it in circular motions as soon as he found it.

“F-fuck, Chan!”

“Come all over my cock,” Chan groaned. You didn't even had to tell him that you were close —he immediatly felt it as soon as your walls started to clench even harder around him. “Prove to me that you are a good slut and cream all over my cock”.

The way he delivered such filthy words never failed to stimulate you, and that particular sentence was no exception —in a matter of seconds, you came hard on him.

“Like this?” you queried with broken words, feeling the remains of your high still being fucked by Chan.

“Like that, baby,” Chan hissed. “You made a mess on my cock, now it's even easier to fuck you like this”.

You locked your legs even tightly around him, and your arms reached his neck to wrap themselves around it. You wanted to have him as near as possible, you wanted to hear his breathing and groans as he came.

His hips started to lose their pace —the movements started to become sloppier and needier. Curses were falling from his lips, drops of sweat were streaming down his face and all that only meant he was close to cumming.

“Fill me up,” you whispered, “Come inside me and pump me all of your cum”.

Chan felt light-headed at your request. All this time, he had a lot of different fantasies with you —however, there was only one recurring.

He desired to have you as his personal cum dump. He wanted to fill you with his cum to the brim, until it was leaking out of you.

He wanted to cum on your mouth and ass as much as he could throughout the day. He wanted to cum all over your body, face, breasts, back and arse.

But if there was one thing he really, really wanted, that was cumming inside of you.

He wanted to pump his semen inside your tight cunt. Fill you up really good, making sure that your body took him well. If his cum leaked out of you, for any reason, he would order you to fuck it inside you again with your fingers or he would even do it for you.

He wanted to come inside you, and the fact that you were giving him the chance to do so was arousing enough for him.

“Yeah? You want my cum dripping out of you?” Chan groaned, burying his face on your neck.

“Mhm,” you cried due to the overstimulation. “I want you to come deep inside me. Bred me really good”.

Chan was losing his head at your words and there was no way on earth he wasn't going to give you what you were begging for.

“You want me that bad, huh?” he panted, pressing his forehead against yours while his moans melted into yours and viceversa. “You want to keep me inside you?”

You nodded frantically, feeling how he was closer and closer to his release.

“Please, come in me,” you pleaded weakly, getting lost in his dark gaze. “Please, I'll be good and I will not waste it”.

Those last words were everything Chan needed to come. And he did so, hard.

He milked himself inside you completely, and only withdrew out of you when he was sure that he had fucked his cum deep, deep inside you.

You laid there, with your back against your bed and Chan's body on top of yours. Your hands latched onto his blonde curls and you waited for the both of you to overcome your highs, your breaths and heartbeats barely stabilizing themselves after such events.

“What was stopping you?” you softly asked him. His gaze lifted up to meet yours, and you could spot a spark of confusion in it. “You liked me, yet you never approached him”.

Chan scoffed at your question, as if the answer wasn't obvious.

And as he saw you laying naked underneath him, he recalled the memory of the time you were wearing that short, dress and pretty shade of lipstick —the night of the point of no return.

This time though, the point of no return took a different meaning.

It was a point of no return to the reality principle.

angel bin with a sir kink? not so angelic it seems.

ugh he was so cute and idk the corruption was so natural i loved it.

also felix being so so sweet that he’s basically an angel is definitely on brand, sweet babyy.

The Descent (M)

➤ summary: changbin is intent on finding a final human soul he can improve before he can move up in the hierarchy. when he arrives on Earth, he meets you—unaware that you’re not quite what you seem to be, and that you have a game of your own to play.

➤ pairing: angel!seo changbin x demon!reader (gn, they/them pronouns used)

➤ genre: smut (minors dni!)

➤ warnings: alcohol consumption, some morality debates. smut warnings under the cut!

➤ word count: 11.8k

➤ a/n: this is something a little bit different from what i usually write—i hope you all don’t mind a bit of a change.

Keep reading

I was so frustrated at how stubborn she is like damn. She realy won’t let it go for anything. However, I’m so excited to see how this is gonna develop. I just know it’s gonna be a wild ride MUAHAHAHAHA

Such a good fic. And damn respect for writing 17k words. It was great!

COLLEGESLUTS.COM — IDEA 686 | HHJ

Part one of the CSC series. You can find this series’ masterpost here. This can be read as a stand-alone, but you may have questions that will be answered in future installations. Keep in mind this is the intro.

There are three things you hate more than anything: 1. Your english Lit. professor, 2. Frat parties, and last but most definitely not least, 3. CollegeSluts.com and their founders. There are three things Hyunjin hates more than anything: 1. College, 2. Back alley blowjobs, and 3. The frustrating desire to fuck you silly.

PAIRING: hyunjin x f!reader

GENRE: enemies to lovers; smut; crack; angst; college au

WC: 17k…. fear me! (also broke my record!!)

WARNINGS: reader is going through it and will continue to go through it. there’s no development for them at all in this installment i apologize (😭) reader calls skz sex-crazed demons, she’s very confused but not irrational, there’s not many warnings besides for the smut— profanity, alcohol consumption, mentions of alcoholism, annoying characters, insanely inexperienced reader, bet making, one-sided hatred, hyunjin wants to figure you out & thank god for that otherwise this series wouldn’t exist, sexual tension bottled up as hate bc yn is stupid. virgin/corruption kink, loss of virginity, overstimulation, dirty talking, unprotected sex…, creampie, fingering, pussy eating, teasing, breast play, and i think that’s it…

A/N: hi angels, i finished this in three days somehow and even though i didn’t plan on this being my post for 400, we hit it recently so this is it! and it’s fitting since a lot of people are waiting for this series <3 I hope you enjoy the first installment, feel free to share your thoughts in the comments, my ask box, or in a reblog! & lmk if you want to be added to the taglist for this fic or my permanent one which is linked below! i hate writing the introduction to a fic and if you feel like this entire one-shot is pointless i promise it’s not 😭 there’s a lot of drama to come soon but i had to establish some things first!

i managed to make a playlist for this series! please enjoy 👩🏾‍💻

mlist; taglist; navi; | ⇦ previous | next ⇨

There are three things you hate more than anything.

1. Your english lit. professor

2. Frat parties

3. last, but most definitely not least, collegesluts. com and it’s founders.

It’s the literal bane of your existence, the reason why it’s so hard for you to sleep at night, and the one thing that makes your skin itch even more than the fuzzy sweaters your grandma knits every winter season.

Maybe if the creator of the site wasn’t such a douchebag, and maybe if the site users weren’t even worse, you wouldn’t abhor it as much as you did. But that’s a lot of maybes— ones that create a reality much different than your own and don’t make you feel much better.

You were first introduced to the hellsite in your second year of college— only made a year before. After you found out, age twenty hanging high over your head and no longer a fresh face in the school system, you’d tried and failed to get it shut down. Multiple times.

Happy, carefree people, would just ignore its existence— get on with their life, allow people to be college sluts in peace, but you couldn’t do that. Only you saw it for what it was, right? A sex site for college-goers to ruin their lives before it even started. Everyone else was too blissed out, a hand shoved in their pants every night as they watched their classmates fuck each other without fail. Only you could really see—

“Hello, can you hear!?”

Your eyebrows furrow at the voice behind you and your shoulders tighten when a finger pokes harshly at your skin.

“What?” You groan, rubbing the section of your arm that was unjustly abused. “Can you just be nice like a normal person?”

“Well, you’re an asshole so why would I be nice to you?”

“Fuck off Seungmin. What do you want?”

The only thing that betrays the fact that he heard you at all is the laugh that echoes behind you. Your chest tightens in response, and you fold your arms over your chest.

Kim Seungmin. A close fourth on your list of things you hate more than anything else. He was one of the users on the-site-that-must-not-be-named. A platinum member actually, a fact that always made your skin burn even in the coldest of weather. He was even friends with the site creators, and you wouldn’t doubt he had a hand in making it completely. He’d never been shy in supporting his use of the site, because nowadays regular cam sites were somehow uncool. He even had shirts with the college sluts logo in big, bold, letters. He was a part of one of the things you couldn’t stand. A big part of it even, but you ignored all that so you could call him your best— and one of your only— friends.

Kim Seungmin is first on the things you love, and that automatically removes him from the list of things you hate. When an arm slings itself across your shoulders you barely react, simply steering you both in the direction of your first class. It’s too early to deal with your best friend, and especially his toothy remarks and sarcasm, but you don’t say so and simply allow him to talk your ear off while you concern yourself with more important things.

Things like Hwang Hyunjin and Christopher Bang. The admins of College Sluts and the cause of the twitch in your brow. Sometimes the amount of hatred you felt for the two amazed you. To others, they were college boys— hotter than most, smart, talented, promiscuous. They had a good personality, a future, and were people a lot of other people got along with (and their other friends but you won’t get into that lest you pop a vessel).

To you, it’s agree to disagree. In short, they’ve got everyone totally fooled. Only sex-crazed low lifes actually managed to create a porn site. It’s one thing to think of it, sprawled around their dorm rooms knocked off their ass and barely sober, but it’s another thing to actually do it— work hard on it, execute such ideas— it’s completely baffling to you. How can no one see how perverted that is? You don’t even know what to call it, but the fire that erupts in your gut is enough to tell you that it’s bad.

There’s a bunch of girls and guys crowding around them, laughing and hugging and touching. Touching as if they were in the privacy of their home and not outside where others could see. It makes your chest heat up, and makes weird maggots swallow up your stomach, leaving a tingly feeling in its wake. You hate it. They’re demons. Sex-crazed demons.

“God, I’m starting to think you’re like anti-sex or something.”

You grunt.

“Literally we’re just walking by and you look like you’re contemplating murder.”

You hum.

“Jesus,” Seungmin sighs, shaking his head before waving over at his friends. More like his sinner acquaintances. Don’t get it wrong, you’re not overly religious or particularly shameful— despite how you might seem— but it’s something about that entire group (Seungmin sometimes included) that makes you feel like breaking something. Choking something? Crying? Screaming? You’re not sure anymore.

When you catch Hyunjin’s eye he smirks and you frown. Just the sight of him is enough to make your head hurt and your knees weak. At least, that makes sense to you. The rest of the student body? Not so much.

You hoist your bag up on your shoulder and tear your gaze away from him. Your building isn’t much farther and if you squint really hard you can pretend you don’t see Hyunjin approaching from the corner of your eye. It’s a hot day and when he sidles up to you, shoulders almost touching, it gets much hotter.

“Hey,” he greets, slapping palms with Seungmin and holding one down low for you. Your hand hesitates, almost greeting him in return before you slap his arm and send a glare his way.

“Bye,” you grit, turning your head away from him and grabbing at Seungmin’s arm. “I have somewhere to be.”

“Loosen up!” He calls, his long legs easily catching up to your fast pace. “I just wanted to say hi to my favorite girl.”

Your breath stutters the tiniest bit but you ignore it, not bothering to grant that remark an answer. Hyunjin is flirty. Too flirty. Stupid flirty. The kind of flirty that gets girls like you all riled up even when you’re supposed to be hating him, even when you’re supposed to curse the very ground he walks on, and it just makes the dreadful maggots in your system start up their annoying fluttering.

Seungmin doesn’t say anything, even when your grip on his arm tightens at a painful rate. You will your heart to stop beating so damn hard and for your entire body to stop reacting so easily to him. You don’t even know him so why does he hold so much influence over you? Someone like him? Someone who spends their time and their intelligence on a haphazard college porn site? No. No way.

“What do you want, Hyunjin?”

The devil with the long brown hair, and soft cheeks, and cute dimples takes the chance to lean close to your ear, making sure you hear whatever it is he has to say.

“Don’t be too mad at me, bug. I just wanted to tell you that you look gorgeous today.” Hyunjin pats your cheek, smiling before he leans away, turning back the way he came.

“See you later.”

And that’s that. The sex demon comes to set your cheeks ablaze and leaves once he’s done, letting you deal with your muddled feelings on your own. Once you start walking again, ignoring the stare boring into your cheeks and the confusing pounding of your heart, there’s only three words on your mind.

Fuck Hwang Hyunjin.

There are three things Hyunjin hates more than anything:

1. College

2. Back alley blowjobs

3. The frustratingly clear desire he has to fuck you silly.

Hyunjin isn’t sure when he realized it exactly. He doesn’t even know why he reacts to you so strongly. If you were anyone else he probably wouldn’t give you a second glance. He’s sure of it. Maybe it’s the desire to want something you can’t have, or the fact that you aren’t groveling at his feet.

It’s not like Hyunjin has any idea of why exactly you’re so hellbent on hating his guts, nor does he really care all that much. So you don’t like College Sluts, that’s your right as is anyone else’s, but it’s not like he’s shoving the damn shit in your face. He minds his business, manages his porn site, and does it all with a smile on his face. You, though? It’s a miracle he’s seen you smile once. And that was when he wasn’t paying attention and knocked into someone carrying a full tray of food.

Chan laughs at him all the time and so does Minho, wondering if he has some weird kink for wanting people who clearly don’t want him back, but more and more he’s thinking that isn’t the case. He’s always been bold, always been a bit flirty even when he wasn’t trying, and he knows he’s easy on the eyes. It’s not a secret, but your reaction to him isn’t one of disdain or clear attraction, but rather confusion, and that confuses him.

He flips the mic in his hands, switching between cradling it and flinging it every which way. The speakers of the karaoke system effectively drag him from his thoughts as the music gets louder and Jisung spins Felix around on their makeshift stage. Whoops and hollers echo from around them, the rest of their friends cheering at the performance in front of them. Hyunjin can’t bring himself to laugh even as a smile threatens to take hold of his features.

“Yo, what’s up with you?” Jisung plops down beside him, slinging an arm around Hyunjin's shoulders as puffs of breath leave his lips. “You’ve been sitting here brooding. What’s going on?”

“I don’t brood,” Hyunjin argues, though he maneuvers his body so he can tell Jisung exactly what has him brooding. “It’s just— I’m still thinking about Y/n.”

“Bro.”

“It doesn’t seem weird to you?”

“Weird that she’s just not interested? This is a new low, Hyunjin. Not everyone is gonna be attracted to you—”

“I know, but that’s not what I’m saying. Doesn’t her whole attitude towards us seem a bit excessive? All over a website.”

“It’s not your typical website.”

“Sung, it’s probably one of the safest porn sites out there because of how exclusive it is. No one but students here can get on it.”

“Does she know that?”

“That’s my point,” Hyunjin sighs, running a hand through his hair before starting again. “If she doesn’t even know the full details of the site, how can she possibly hate it? Hate us?”

Jisung pauses, looking back towards the stage. It’s true that all eight of them have thought about this at least once. They know there’s people who hate the website, who steer clear of it in all instances, but none who have made petitions and gone to the superintendent requesting an audience about it. No one who’s actively been so hateful to them specifically, refusing to look in their direction unless it’s to send a glare their way.

“Maybe there's another reason?” Jisung offers, sending Hyunjin a sideways glance. “I mean, maybe she just hates porn.”

Hyunjin snorts at that. How can anyone hate porn?

“You’re laughing but I’m dead serious. Has she ever even had a partner?”

“How the fuck would I know?”

“You think about her 24/7. I wouldn't be surprised if you knew what she ate for breakfast.”

“Not fucking funny.”

Jisung barks out a laugh, falling over into Hyunjin’s space. “Don’t worry, you’ll get over it soon.”

Hyunjin isn’t so sure but he nods anyway, allowing Jisung to go back to the stage for the next song. Hyunjin knocks back his drink, throat constricting barely at the bitter taste. He doesn’t care. He really doesn’t, but there’s something weird about your behavior and he’s more than determined to figure it out. Maybe he needs to just mind his business but fuck that, he thinks, no one is gonna hate him for no reason. Maybe he’s a little too riled up at that, maybe Jisung is right and this is a new low. Maybe he just really can’t deal with rejection well. Maybe.

Minho’s screeching into the mic does it’s hardest to ruin Hyunjin’s night, but the way the rest of his friends tackle him and attempt to steal the mic just makes him laugh, leaving a warm feeling in his chest. This is all he needs— his friends and a good drink to put a smile on his face. And the college porn site he worked very hard on, of course.

The group only gets through a few more songs before they decide to leave, deciding to ignore the fact that some of them have classes in six hours or that they’ll be nursing a bad headache for the entirety of it. Hyunjin is one of them. He laughs along with his friends as they walk, and he watches them from where he stands in the back.

Jisung has his phone out and is making a concerned face, typing furiously on the device. Either they’re having technical issues or his girlfriend is getting on his ass once again. Minho has an arm slung around his shoulders, laughing at whatever it is he’s typing and whoever it is that’s typing back. Next to them Felix and Jeongin have joined hands and Felix swings them back and forth, giggling as he does. Jeongin pretends he doesn’t like it, like usual, but Hyunjin notices the hint of a smile on his face. He always notices.

Chan and Changbin are quiet on either side of him, walking in the tranquil quiet that’s always rare for their group. It feels incomplete— Hyunjin wishes Seungmin could’ve come. He doesn’t know how the boy manages to be friends with the creators of the CSC and also be friends with its #1 hater. Maybe he’s selling secrets, telling you everything about the site, all its loopholes and glitches. Maybe he’s working against them now, coming up with a plan to shut them down once and for all, though Hyunjin doesn’t know if that’s possible.

Right after those thoughts trickle into his mind, he thinks about Seungmin wearing the handmade “merch” for the site, and doesn’t entertain them any longer. It would be ridiculous— even for him— to think that someone who repped college sluts like it was their brand would ever work even harder to tear it away.

The knot in his throat that’s been squeezing at his airways since earlier that night relaxes just a little. He’s never actually said this to anyone, but just as much as he thinks about why you hate him, he thinks about whether Seungmin will hate him too; about if he’ll lose a friend due to reasons he’s not even sure of. As much as he thinks about why you hate him so badly, he thinks about why he doesn’t hate you right back. He wonders why he— instead of wanting nothing to do with you— wants to know everything about you. Why he wants to understand you when you’ve made no effort to understand him, or worse, made up your own mind about who he is without even attempting to entertain the idea that maybe you’re wrong.

Hyunjin has lived his whole life suffering from other people's ideas of him, from their expectations that they held with no prior consultation with him, from the perfect picture of him in their minds that didn’t correlate with the real Hyunjin. He’s had his fair share of wondering, thinking, wanting. And it’s disappointing to see how even after all this time, since childhood, nothing has changed. He’s always wanted what he’s not allowed to have, but it’s not for lack of trying.

They don’t arrive at their frat house quick enough. As soon as the door opens into the building Hyunjin feels like falling asleep on the couch. It wouldn’t be the first time, but he’s also not sure what last happened on that couch. Between spilled drinks and sex that was too rushed to even make it to a bedroom he’d rather take his chances on an actual bed. Chan doesn’t bother to turn the lights on when he comes in, and the seven of them shuffle around each other, spilling into the living room or into the kitchen to grab drinks and snacks as if they didn’t just come back from eating.

Hyunjin knows he’s been distant all night but he can’t be bothered to care as he sends a quick good night his friends’ way and makes his way upstairs. The house holds eight other boys besides them and he’s surprised none of them are downstairs or hanging around even at the late hour. Though, Hyunjin reasons, most of them have girlfriends and the few others that don’t are seniors and probably pull all-nighters in the library or some shit.

Hyunjin doesn’t want to think about that. The year only started back up again a few months ago, he doesn’t need to be thinking about work anymore than he already does. He makes a good living even without a real job, so he’s taking shit day by day. It’s not like anyone else is much different. Most of his seniors are cramming because they were so carefree. Hyunjin doesn’t think about the implications of that either.

The softness of his bed is long overdue and his body sinks into the plush bedding. He strips off his shirt and pants, not bothering to make his way to a shower or put pajamas on or do anything really. He has five hours before he needs to wake back up and this is nothing if not a power nap that won’t help him get through any lectures the next day. Or, later that day rather.

Hyunjin doesn’t concern himself with that though, because there’s only one thing that’s on his mind when he falls asleep and when he wakes up, and that’s what he’s going to say to you tomorrow morning in the first class of the day.

The first thing you manage to think of when you wake up is how best you’re going to ignore Hyunjin today. You’ve been brainstorming, wondering which response will humble him the best, maybe make him speechless for long enough that you can get away. If only those getaways could last forever, you sigh, pulling a fitted tee over your head. It’s low-cut, makes your cleavage pop just a little bit more, and you add a necklace for that exact reason.

You’re not the sex-crazed demon that the CSC most definitely are, but you do like a little attention every now and again even if you don’t get that much action. Or any, really, and you’re just fine with that. It’s one of the reasons why you don’t like the CSC. There’s no reason to sexify everything, and that’s exactly what they do. People can get by just fine without it.

Just fine? Seungmin would probably jab, but he’s not here right now and he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. You are just fine, but the mention of the-site-that-must-not-be-named just fills your stomach with stones and ignites your nerves like nothing else does. To you, that’s more than enough proof that it’s the CSC’s fault— not yours.

Anyway, today is the day you have to see Hyunjin bright and early, which always manages to set your day off to a bad start. No one should have to deal with him at this time of day, or any time of day, and you pity the ones that do. Seeing Chan isn’t rare, but he doesn’t talk to you like Hyunjin does. He stares every now and again, gives you a lazy smirk, and is generally sexy as much as it pains you to admit it, but he doesn’t bother you. Though you know he probably talks about you. His stares are too knowing, way too insightful even when you don’t really know each other.

The rest of the boys you’ve talked to on a few occasions. They aren’t as insufferable, but they are associated with Hyunjin and Chan and are, in fact, involved in the upkeep of the-site-that-must-not-be-named. To you, that’s more than enough reason to at the least dislike them. You don’t hold soft spots for any of them, except maybe Felix who seems way too sweet to be a sex demon, but then again, it’s always the nice ones.

Besides, it doesn’t matter what they say to you or don’t say, or if they look at you or not, or if they even know you exist. It really doesn’t matter. You shake the thoughts from your head vigorously, ashamed at the fact that you spent the first hour of your morning on them. It’s unbecoming of you. It’s good to remind yourself not to actively concern yourself with any of them, and simply fight for the site’s demolition like you’ve been doing.

Seungmin says you have no life, but Seungmin also wears T-shirts with cartoonish, glittery pink boobs and the site’s name in glittery cursive letters. You don’t think Seungmin should have an opinion.

The last time you attempted to do anything about the site was roughly two months ago, a month after school started back. You took your time to settle in, fall into a routine, and get your work and classes in order before resuming your mission. It was arduous, brainstorming and juggling school work, but it was your responsibility since no one else would work hard enough.

A quick shuffle through any of your things would tell people you were a perfectionist— articulate in your placement of items and the way you did things. Even taking the time to plan certain outings to a T, determined to make sure everything goes well. It’s not a secret how obsessive you get over things and how uncomfortable or incomplete you feel when things don’t go your way, when you have to follow someone else’s idea of how things should work. It’s the reason why most people don’t get along with you because to them you’re too controlling, too compulsive and dominating.

When you were a child that fact had bothered you. It was confusing— that was just your nature, and you wouldn’t have survived your childhood without it based on the way your parents lived. When kids would shun you, treat you like something sticky at the bottom of their shoe, it hurt your young heart. You felt apologetic simply for acting the way you always felt like you should act, for doing the things that left you satisfied after. Now, in college, no one demands classmates to get along, no one can shun you in the cafeteria and force you to eat in the library. If they don’t like you it’s fine with you, frankly it doesn’t matter. You have one goal and one goal only, and once that’s over with you can move on.

When you step out of your dorm the sun is blinding, shining down with unforgiving rays of light. All you can do is squint, tilt your head down a little and wish you had a hat. The walk to the Art’s building is long, but feels longer with how warm it is. The heat shimmies its way under your clothes and into your skin, from the top of your head to the tip of your toes.

The scenery on the walk there is always breathtaking though, the pavement that makes up the pathway to the building is closed in by blades of grass that have been cut and trimmed to perfection. Rocks make up the border between them— large smooth stones that vary in size but are more or less the same oval shape. There’s an entire garden full of all types of flowers, Gardenias, Lilies, Irises, Tulips, and even some you can’t name. At the entrance of the building there are bright lights that illuminate at least 25 feet in front of it at night, and wide hedges that have been designed to look like swans, their necks curved in a way that if they were moved next to each other they’d be forming a heart. White flowers grow inside the hedges serving to make the entire scene look more beautiful, and as much as you hate walking there, the view is unmatched.

The Art building has always been your safe haven, Art in general being your home away from home. It took a long time for you to feel comfortable studying it— always caught up in the what if. What if you can’t make a living from it? What if you end up not liking it as you grow older? What if it’s not a sustainable career? Questions that still plague you often, and stop you from putting as much of your heart in it as you’d wish. These classes are somewhat self-indulgent. A way for you to escape from the hectic mess that is your life, away from the stress of work, from the anxiety of what comes next, and from the infuriating instances that continue without your control— away from the things you can’t control so you can run to things you can. So imagine your horror when you found out Hwang Hyunjin was in the same class as you. At the same time. Doing the same thing.

It felt like your escape wasn’t yours anymore, and that the stress from your day followed you everywhere you went. It wasn’t enough for Hyunjin to pester you often— he had to be everywhere you were too.

You take a deep breath to calm your nerves, setting your shoulders and regain the poise you take pride in– carrying yourself with the confidence you wish you had. It doesn’t take long for you to make your way to the entrance of the building, as you walk, having been kissed by the scorching light of the sun and brushed against by dewy blades of grass. It feels surreal and staggering to be outside alone so early in the morning, yet peaceful, for you know that it will be long before you get this chance again.

“Bug!”

Oh no. no no no. You walk faster, hoping to make it inside before Hyunjin can catch up to you. Hyunjin is never this early. He either comes right on time or late to the frustration of your teachers and peers although no one would ever say it to his face. You can hear his feet against the pavement louder and louder as he comes closer to you, catching up just when you take the first step up the stairs to the entrance.

“You didn’t hear me, bug?”

“Stop calling me bug.”

“Sorry, bug,” Hyunjin laughs, putting a heavy arm over your shoulders and bringing you closer.

You roll your eyes so hard it feels like they’re gonna stick. Maybe they should so you don’t ever have to see Hyunjin again. Maybe he’d think you look scary like that, your eyes rolled up forever. Maybe then he’d leave you alone.

Hyunjin is annoying. He always acts like you’re his friend, but you know it’s fake because why would he want to be friends with you, someone who hates everything he works hard on and hates him as well to an extent. It seems overly fake and forced to you, so you don’t ever entertain it. The last thing you need is to fall for it and then be made out to look like an idiot when he eventually embarrasses you.

“It’s too early.”

“It’s never too early, pretty.”

“It’s always too early to be dealing with you,” You groan, wrenching his arm away from where it laid over your shoulders. “Why are you talking to me?”

“Why not?” Hyunjin asks, seemingly unaffected by your attitude towards him. He shoves his hands in his pockets, his shoulders raised up to his chin in a shrug. “I like talking to you.”

You snort, looking up at him with eyebrows raised, “You like talking to me, the one person— possibly in this world— who absolutely hates you, and barely spares you the time of day?” You ask, tilting your head in mock confusion. “I’m sure this is the longest we’ve ever had a conversation, but nice try.” You squeeze his cheeks, hard, and when he swats your hand away you can’t help the giggle that you let out. If his cheeks felt like dough under your fingers you’re choosing to ignore that, wiping a hand on your jeans with way more intensity than needed.

“But see,” Hyunjin starts again, “We’re having a conversation right now and neither of us wanna choke each other.”

“Speak for yourself. I’m barely resisting the urge to punt your head like a baseball.”

It’s silent for a moment before you both burst out into a fit of giggles. Hyunjin braces himself against his knees as he laughs, his hair falling over his face as he does, and you’re not much better— staggering where you stand to laugh with him. It only takes a few seconds for you both to calm down, and slowly the reality of what happened catches up to you.

“Do you even punt baseballs?” Hyunjin snorts, and you just laugh harder.

“I don’t know, Hyunjin, if you haven’t noticed I’m at the arts building not sports.” You wheeze, fighting through another laugh. “Now I’m just imagining your head flying over the gardens.”

Hyunjin lets out another chuckle but shivers a bit at the thought. He waits for you to calm down, your giggles turning into small huffs. A hint of a smile still remains on your cheeks, and the sun shines down so strongly on your features it feels like he’s seeing an angel— like divinity right in front of his eyes. When you straighten up, he can see every movement. The way you position your bag upright, the way a bit of your gums poke out from your lips. Your lips, soft, glossy, and look the most perfect in a smile. He can see the way your eyebrows lose the tension from your laughing fit, the way the crinkle of your eyes lessen as your face relaxes. He can see everything, so he can also see when your lips fall back into a firm line, when your eyebrows go back to that angry stance they always hold when you’re around him. The way your shoulders stiffen, and the grip on your bag tightens. He can see everything, and he reminds himself the only time you laugh is when he’s the butt of the joke.

“I’m going to class,” You murmur, walking the rest of the way up the stairs and into the building without looking back or waiting for him to respond. Though Hyunjin wonders what he would’ve even said.

I’ll come with you.

We can sit together.

No, you both can’t do anything together, and more and more Hyunjin wonders why he even wants to.

“You were laughing with Hwang Hyunjin? The sex demon??” Your friend hisses from next to you, stringing a lock of hair behind her ear. “You?”

“Yes, me, Jieun.” You huff. “I can barely believe it either. What did he do to me? I hate him, I can’t show weakness by laughing around him.”

“Honey,” Jieun laughs, leaning towards you, “You can laugh. Honestly the fact that you ran away after is hilarious.”

“I didn’t run away.”

“You ran away.”

“I didn’t run.”

Jieun settles on you with a heavy stare, face slack, and you roll your eyes. “Fine, I walked away.”

“I don’t know how either of you take each other seriously.”

“I don’t take him seriously.”

“Yeah you do, babe. You refuse to laugh around him. That’s very serious.”

You snort.

“And the fact that he gives you the time of day when this is the dumbest feud possible… I just don’t understand it.”

“It’s not dumb.” You sputter, smoothing your hand over the glossy wooden desk of the classroom. “It’s…” You trail off, staring into the large windows at the side of the room. You cock your head and lean forward, jaw slack when the sex demon himself waves outside. “Oh what a stalker.” You growl, throwing up the middle finger in his direction. “He’s got his little posse following him too.”

When Jieun makes to wave back you smack the back of her head and groan when she gives you an affronted look.

“What was that for?” Jieun exclaims, bringing a hand up to rub against the back of her head.

“Don’t fraternize with the enemy,” You hiss, folding your arms over your chest and staring back at your professor.

“Are you gonna explain the feud—”

“No.”

In your opinion, class doesn’t end quickly enough. You split with Jieun at the entrance, the both of you going in opposite directions, and attempt to reorder your frazzled mind. So you laughed. A lot of people laugh at people they hate. Plus, he laughed too— so why should you be overthinking it? You’ve laughed before, in situations you weren’t supposed to, and this is no different. Now you just need to make sure it never happens again. You nod to yourself as you walk, pulling out your phone to make sure Seungmin is already at the meeting spot.

The sun is still just as ruthless as it was earlier, but a light breeze grazes your skin and rustles the trees along the sidewalk and in the field in front of you. There’s a bunch of picnic tables, some occupied and some of them not. There’s groups of friends sitting under trees, some couples, some of them alone; reading or completing assignments in the nice weather. You spot Seungmin a few tables down, a brown sweater over a collared shirt and cute glasses perched upon his nose.

You take your time walking to the table, letting your skin soak in the warmth and tranquil peace of nature. When Seungmin spots you he shuffles over, giving you some space to sit next to him and you do, mumbling a small hey before knocking your head against the table.

“You’re going to a party with me.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Seungmin… Hi, how are you? How was your day? No, I’m not.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

“Well, unless you’re going to drag me, no I’m not.”

“I just might,” Seungmin sighs, “Why are you so difficult?”

“Difficult? You’re the one being difficult. I don’t want to go and you’re telling me it’s not a choice.”

“Because it’s not.”

You let out a groan, a long torturous one that has people turning their head to a straight faced Seungmin and you who’s head is still knocked against the table. When people think it’s stopped it starts all over again, a guttural groan filled with displeasure and frustration that loosens your chest when it’s done.

“Are you done?”

“Leave me alone.”

“It’s on Saturday. I can pick you up.” Seungmin says instead of arguing.

“Today’s Thursday.” You whine, just stopping yourself from letting out another groan— one that wouldn’t ever stop for as long as you have to deal with Kim Seungmin and his annoying, snarky, bossy self.

“…. I’m aware.” Seungmin says, and you don’t even have to look at him to know he’s making a face like and so what?

“I can’t stand you, I hope you know that. No type of warning, no preparation… I don’t party. I need at least two weeks to mentally prepare myself and another two weeks to get an outfit.”

“Damn.” Seungmin says, but he rubs a hand against your back, lightly pushing you to lift your head from the table. “Listen, I’ll help you. And it’s being thrown by people I know so you don’t have to worry. I don’t think many people throw college parties a month in advance but I’ll keep that in mind.”

All you can do is nod, waiting patiently as Seungmin finishes whatever assignment he’s working on. You’ve already completed the ones you have, the pro of not having much else to do and being on top of things always. Everyday you both meet up here, either at a table or under one of the trees and talk. Read, finish assignments, or even eat snacks. There have been some times where you meet there and then go somewhere else together, rarely off campus but it happens, and you get something to eat or go on a mini adventure. It’s the highlight of your day and you’re sure it is for Seungmin too, but you’d never admit that to each other. You don’t have to, though, because you’re both always on the same wavelength especially when it counts the most.

Though now he’s given you something else to worry about, that being this sudden party. It’s no doubt being held by a frat house, and you have an inkling which house it is. You haven’t asked, trying not to pop the bubble of secureness that surrounds you. You can go to a party being held by the CSC. You can, and you will, and if it isn’t being held by them then that’s even better. You try to convince yourself you really don’t care at all, but the thought remains. Can you really enjoy yourself at a party being held by them? You don’t know why it bothers you so much or why you feel so uncomfortable having a good time around them, but you just keep repeating the same thing to yourself over and over. It doesn’t matter.

“Jieun told me what happened this morning.”

“Of course she did.” You sigh, staring ahead at the group of squirrels running up a tree. The people under it startle when leaves start to fall over their heads. “We just left each other, how did she find the time to text you all that?”

“She called me,” Seungmin cackles, braces on full display as he scribbles furiously into his notebook. “Every story I hear about you and Hyunjin is against my will.”

“Every interaction between me and Hyunjin is against my will,” You counter, shifting so that you face him. “What did she say?”

“That you laughed with him and it embarrassed you. That you’re confused about your feelings towards him.”

“So are you two my therapists now? I’m not confused. I don’t like the things he does— I don’t like his carefree attitude, how he has no problem talking to me like we’re friends. I don’t like- No, I hate the fact that so many people fucking praise him because he created some crude porn site.”

Your heart rate picks up, your hand gripping at your jeans as a poor attempt to conceal your growing frustration. “I don’t like the fact that no one else sees what’s wrong with it. We shouldn’t have a fucking porn site for college students? I don’t think we should know what we all look like under our clothes and I’m tired of everyone acting like I'm the crazy one. He’s the perverted one, the weird one. Who the fuck thinks of something like that? It’s not just him, it’s all of them.”

Seungmin ponders your words, the grip on his pen tightening ever so slightly. “Hyunjin is a good guy. All of them are, and if that’s how you feel then why do you talk to me? I use the site, I'm their friend, I’ve helped them out when making it. Aren’t I weird and perverted too?”

You sigh, “Seungmin…”

“Help me understand. Because if you can stand to be around me, then why can’t you be around them? Or try.”

“It isn’t the same and you know it. It’s easy to ignore it when it’s you. That’s them. They are the CSC to me. A reminder of everything I hate, what I want to get rid of.”

“But why the hell does it matter? People want to use the site and that’s why they do. No one is fucking forcing it.”

“You guys just don’t understand it. None of you do. It’s like you’re blinded by it or something.”

“We’re grown adults, Y/N,” Seungmin growls, “We don’t need you to be a guardian fucking angel.”

“Don’t make me out to be the bad guy, just because all you fucking care about is sex or some college sluts, like can you actually be that shallow?”

“Why is it so hard for you to see reason? Do you see how angry you’re getting at me for asking a simple question? You asked me what Jieun said and I told you.” Seungmin spits, shutting his book with a slam.

“Stop asking me about that site. Stop making me seem like some confused hateful person just because you’re too dense to understand where I’m coming from. I’m not confused, I know exactly how I feel. I try not to bring it up because you like the damn thing so much, and you can’t seem to hold the same courtesy for me.” You stand from the seat, settling a dark glare at Seungmin’s angered form.

“Fuck your friends, fuck that site. Stop talking about me like I need guidance.”

You’re not irrational. You’re not. You have every right to be angry. Seungmin is your friend. Jieun is your friend. They’re supposed to be there for you, not gang up on you. You feel alone, so alone in everything you fight for, in everything you aim to conquer— as if the things you stand for don’t matter. It reminds you of middle school all over again, of high school— having people look at you like you were something from another planet. Someone people had always failed to understand. It’s lonely. You’re not irrational.

You didn’t blow up. You’re not angry. You’re frustrated, yes, but you don’t blow up. You don’t get mad. You aren’t irrational. Anyone else in your position would feel the same, right? Anyone else would be upset because it feels like your friends always take the side of the people you despise more than anyone else. Why aren’t they on your side? Why don’t they believe you? Why don’t they understand? It makes you feel stupid. It makes you feel like you have no right to feel the way you do. It’s lonely.

You’ve never been irrational. You’ve always had a good grip on your feelings. Always. And when it feels like the grip loosens it’s always the cause of something relating to the CSC. It’s proof that it’s what the root of your problems is. It’s proof that the CSC needs to be gone so you can finally go back to normal. So you don’t feel like the odd one out. So you don’t have to feel so upset. Because you’re not irrational. You have every right to feel this way. You don’t get mad. You’re not angry. You don’t blow up.

You control everything, you control your actions, your emotions, and you make sure to hold control over your environment— of how things play out for every second of your life. This feels like it’s running out of control. That the CSC brings havoc in your life no matter what— even when you try to ignore it, it comes running back to fuck you over even further. You’re not irrational. You’re not confused. You don’t get mad. You don’t. You don’t blow up. You control everything.

The sun hides right when you need it. You pretend tears don’t blur your vision, you pretend that the suddenly gloomy environment doesn’t affect you the way it does. You pretend that the once comforting breeze doesn’t feel sharp against your exposed skin. You pretend because when things run out of control that’s all you can do. Pretend you’ve got it handled, pretend that you still have a grip on things, pretend that you understand. You’re not irrational. You have every right to feel this way.

You never argue with Seungmin. Playful bickering from time to time or you two being rude to each other but always playfully. You’ve never cursed at him so maliciously, spoken to him like he was someone random, as if he wasn’t your best friend. You’ve never done those things— but you do when the CSC is involved. You never get pissed at Jieun, even when she’s annoying, even when she acts like the only thing important in life is the new boy she’s talking to— You don’t get mad. You’re not mad now, but you’re something. Something fiery, and everything always goes back to the CSC. You’re not irrational. You’re just the only one who understands.

Right when you see the blurry form of your dorm building it gets blocked by a large body and you slam right into its chest. You can barely see in front of you and you know your face is screwed up into the worst form imaginable, tears falling with no control. Without your control.

“Sorry, excuse me,” You laugh wetly, sidestepping whoever is blocking your way and running up the steps to your dorm. The sooner you fall into your bed and cry this out, the sooner you can forget about it. The sooner you can apologize and move past this weird limbo of feelings. It feels like purgatory, stuck in the in between, not sure which direction you’ll end up going in. It’s full of unsureness, of frustration. It feels like a loss of control. It angers you, makes you feel like nothing is going right.

But you don’t get angry. You’re not irrational. You don’t get mad. You pretend, because that’s all you can do.

Hyunjin is confused.

The last thing he expected to see this morning was you laughing, but now, he realizes the last thing he ever expected to see was you crying. Eyes glossy with tears, a nose rubbed raw, face screwed up into something pitiful.

Hyunjin doesn’t know a lot of things. He doesn’t expect a lot of things, but most of all he doesn’t know how to continue after seeing it. He doesn’t expect to care so much, not after the way you’ve regarded him. After the way you’ve both regarded each other. He doesn’t know why he can’t walk away and say nothing when he knows he should. If he brings it up you’ll get defensive, be embarrassed, be angry. He shouldn’t say anything.

He keeps walking, frowning slightly at the gloomy clouds. It was so sunny less than an hour ago. Things change so quickly, it doesn’t make any sense. He thinks back to earlier that morning, the light that shone on your face with every laugh you let out. He thinks back to just a few seconds ago. How dark shadows fell over your face as tears ran down your cheeks.

The walk is more automatic than anything else. He doesn’t take the time to stare at the scenery, he doesn’t look at the people around him. He barely sees the ground in front of him as he walks, his mind not registering what’s right in front of his face. He’s too caught up in you. Like usual, wondering why you do the things you do, why you feel the way you feel, wanting to understand. What did he do? What can he do to make you feel better? How can he make you hate him any less? He wants to understand, he wants to listen, to talk to you, to be near you. It confuses him.

His phone vibrates, pulling him from his thoughts. It’s chan, texting about the party on Saturday, and he sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He’s so tired, tired of running around for parties, tired of attending to the site, tired of waking up early for classes. He just wants a second to sit down and relax, to not worry about you ruining the one thing he’s worked hard for, to not worry about what class he’s flunking, about what party he’s expected to attend, to not worry about why you were crying in the middle of the afternoon. He just wants a moment to collect his thoughts and free his mind.

HJ: I got it

BC: alr cool, put it in the cabinet with the lock, you know how Hyunjoon gets

HJ: Fuck, is it that bad?

BC: he’s an alcoholic bud, it’s that bad.

Hyunjin laughs a little, stuffing his phone back into his pocket. He wonders if Seungmin told you about the party yet and grimaces, wondering if that’s the reason why you were crying. If it is, he’s not sure who needs to get a grip. You, for hating him so bad, or him for continuing to try and get you not to. It takes a lot of effort for him to continue the power walk back to the frat, but he arrives sooner than later, stuffing the bag of drinks inside the cabinet and locking it shut. He thinks it’s a bit ridiculous that they have to lock the alcohol up as if they have small kids running around, and also wonders the effectiveness when Hyunjoon lives in a frat house and is an adult who can buy his own alcohol.

It’s Thursday afternoon but he finds that he’s not as excited for a party as he should be. Usually, he’d be bouncing on his heels, counting down the hours for it to start, and realizing he’s so caught up in everything else going around he doesn’t feel that normal excitement that he so often does. He makes sure to fix that, shaking the unnecessary thoughts from his head, pushing responsibilities to later. He has a party to prepare for and he's gonna act like it.

The rest of the boys don’t get back till later— they’d given Hyunjin the responsibility of buying cups and drinks and shitty snacks while they went off somewhere else. Hyunjin can’t keep track of what they do especially if he’s not joining, so he focuses on doing what he’s supposed to in order to make this the best party of the year so far. His frat has always held the record of best parties— has always held their winnings in high regard as well, and he’ll be damned if he gets the cold shoulder if he’s the reason the party isn’t as good as it should be. Most of all, he’s thinking about what he’s gonna do during it.

Hyunjin is not shy on having sex— never has been, never will be, and more often than not he’s having it. Sure, that may be expected since he made a literal porn site, but Jisung also had a hand in it and he has a girlfriend. Felix doesn’t have one-night stands often, nor does Seungmin. It’s different for all of them.

He knows there’s a few girls that have been actively trying to get in his pants, knows that he’s been trying to get into theirs, but he can only hope he can focus on them for long enough to do so without thinking about you. If you come, he knows that there’s no chance he’ll think of anything else, and he’ll probably spend the entire night just getting you to laugh again. To get you to explain to him why. why why why. It’s confusing, but he pretends it doesn’t matter.

Thursday comes and goes too quickly, and Friday does as well. The day isn’t over yet, it’s only the afternoon, but the implications of that make you anxious. Make your nerves ignite far more than they should.

Seungmin didn’t answer your calls for the rest of that Thursday. Didn’t read or respond to a single text until you decided to leave him alone. Jieun called, but you didn’t answer. You think the way you felt towards her is the way Seungmin felt towards you. Maybe something worse, so you gave him space and took some for yourself, a moment to really think about what made you react the way you did. You don’t think you’re in the wrong, you still don’t think you could’ve reacted any other way and you’re not sure what that says about you.

You take another bite of your sandwich as you walk down the street from the Art store, your phone cradled in your other hand and a drink poking out from the opening in your bag. It’s hard to mentally prepare for things that you don’t know anything about. You don’t know where the party is, who’s hosting it, how long you’re expected to stay. Thought that’s if you’re even still going. You want to take Seungmin’s silence as an answer that no, you aren’t, but you also don’t want to assume that and then he shows up at your door and you’re not ready.

You don’t want to go, not at all, but if it made Seungmin happy then you would. If he didn’t come to pick you up you briefly entertained finding your own way to the party and cornering him, forcing him to hear your apology before leaving and soaking your pillow with tears. But you don’t know where the party is. You also briefly entertained the idea of calling Jieun and asking her, but you’re not interested in the lecture that would come from that. You still don’t appreciate her words about you to Seungmin and the implication of them. Seungmin is your friend, you can tell him what happened all by yourself. You don't need Jieun to play messenger.

You swallow the last of your lunch and throw the wrapper in the nearest trash can. You want to start a new painting, one that can unleash the frustrations of your life as it is right now, and you can only do that by getting some new supplies. You save up constantly for this exact reason— for the ability to buy whatever your heart desires whenever it desires it. You dip your toes into whatever interests you, and all concepts of Art satisfies you more than anything. Writing whatever you desire, taking pictures of the things you find beautiful, painting whatever you want— it gives you the control that fuels you more than anything else.

The art shop by your university is quaint, always quiet and never very full, yet always filled with high quality supplies and fully stocked. You’ve made friends with the old lady who owns it and her daughter, constantly going there just to buy something in order to catch up with them on whatever has happened since your last visit. They’re like the mother and sister you never had, people who feel more like family than your own. It’s partly for that reason that you’ve made the trek there, hoping to get some advice for the things you’ve been feeling before going to the party that’s undoubtedly being held by the one group of people you despise.

The bells above the door jingle when you step in, and you let the smell of paint, chalk, crayons, pens, and faint air freshener soothe you. It’s just as cluttered as it’s always been— stacks upon stacks of sketchbooks and canvases on one side situated next to the easels and small desks. The paints have a section of their own, oil, watercolor, acrylic, matte, and more— on the opposite side there’s pens and crayons, colored pencils, oil pastels, and sharpeners of all shapes and sizes.

The walls are covered in paint as if before bringing in all the items they’d had fun splattering the walls in color. It’s messy, unruly, cluttered, and barely organized— so it doesn’t make sense to you why it comforts you so much. When you see a small form hobble out from behind a stack of books a smile forms unbiddenly on your face, and the small old lady smiles back.

“I missed you, dear,” She scolds, wrapping you up in a hug. “It’s been too long since you’ve come to visit.”

“I know, I’ve just been busy Ms. Yang. I missed you.” You sigh, rubbing your nose in the soft fabric of her sweater. She smells like paint and flowers— she smells like home.

“Sam will be here soon, she’d love to see you.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice. I need to talk to her too.”

“I can tell, child. You look stressed.” She sighs, shuffling behind the counter and sitting on one of the other seats behind it. “Get what you’re looking for,” She says waving a hand dismissively towards you.” I won’t make you explain it twice.”

You huff lightheartedly, making your way over to the canvases and picking one of medium proportions. You’re still not sure what it is you want to paint, but you know whatever you’re feeling is strong enough that you grab Oil paint, needing something rich and vibrant and something sharper to contrast the muddled and cloudy image of your mind.

It’s before long that you settle on a brand you normally buy, and the set of bells signal someone’s arrival into the shop. You turn your head, expecting to see Sam and her long curly hair, beautiful in its volume and her tawny brown skin, but instead you’re greeted with the sight of straight brown hair, swept behind the ears of a tall man, a mole under his eye and the reason for all your problems. You don’t know why you react the way you do, but with your items cradled in your hand you sprint behind a large stack of sketchbooks and hold your breath, staring with wide eyes at the cans of paint at your feet.

What the fuck is Hwang Hyunjin doing at your shop? This is your safe place— your safe haven. A part of you curses the ground he walks on, hopes that the store is too messy and cluttered for his liking, prays that he proves he’s as shallow as the company he keeps and that he leaves and doesn’t come back. Another part of you hates yourself for being so ridiculous. For letting your personal feelings about him delve so far that you’d think something like that. Sam and Mrs.Yang deserve the business, deserve the money, deserve the customers. You shouldn’t hope for anything different— but it still amazes you how he never fails to intrude on the things you hold dear. To intrude on the things you want to keep to yourself.

You don’t move from the spot you’re in. It could’ve been ten minutes, an hour, even, or maybe it was only thirty seconds, but you only peek out when you hear Sam’s voice ring through the shop. You survey the room, stepping out from your hiding spot when you confirm that Hyunjin is nowhere to be found. Though, you don’t think you could’ve hid regardless by the way Sam calls your name.

“Hi, Sammy,” You smile, coming up to pull her into a hug. She grips you tightly, her kinky hair tickling your cheek and her clothes smelling faintly of vanilla and roses. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, hun,” Sam smiles, albeit a little sadly as she looks over your face. “What’s wrong?”

“Hey, don’t leave a poor old lady out,” Mrs. Yang huffs, “Come over here and tell us both about it.”

Without even saying anything they’ve already cheered you up, your steps feeling lighter as you make your way behind the counter and sit on one of the three seats. You sit between them both, their eyes set patiently but concerningly on you.

“I don’t know, really,” You start, and then, you tell them. About your argument with Seungmin, about how lonely it is feeling like you’re the only one feeling this way, about how much the site angers you— how it makes you feel. You tell them about Hyunjin, about how he doesn’t stop bothering you no matter how much you make it obvious you don’t want his company. How much that frustrates you, as well, and about how the lack of control over the entire situation, and over the CSC’s place in your life makes you uncomfortable, and about how the CSC itself makes you feel things you’ve never felt before and how much that scares you. You can barely describe the way it does, and who else can you blame besides its creators.

When you’re done it feels like you’ve vented a lifelong event, it makes a heavy weight lift itself off your shoulders and the heavy silence that remains doesn’t feel like judging, but rather them trying to understand— soaking up the meaning of every word you said in an attempt to place themselves in your shoes.

“I think,” Sam starts, “That your cluelessness about your feelings towards the site in general turns into anger, and the fact that the boy,”

“Hyunjin”, You offer.

“Yes, I think his attempts at speaking to you only worsen it somehow, like you’re being cornered by this weird feeling that you don’t understand and it makes you even angrier.”

“You said your friend is a part of it?” Mrs.Yang interjects, a wrinkly hand kneading your shoulder.

“Yeah,” You murmur, “He’s good friends with the group and he loves the website.”

“That probably doesn’t help then,” She continues, “If you’re surrounded by people who know what they like or enjoy something you don’t like or don’t understand, of course you’re going to feel angry. You feel like the odd one out.”

“I think more than anything you need to figure out if it’s really anger you’re feeling, and if the only reason why you hate this website is not because of its purpose but because of your lack of control over it.” Sam finishes.

“I can’t say I agree with it either,” Mrs.Yang grunts, “It’s not something I think college students need to be worrying about. Things like that stick with you, but it’s their choice to indulge in it, Y/n, you can’t control that.”

You sigh. You guess so, but you still feel like you need to get rid of it. You’ve been slacking, not paying attention to it as much as you should because of all the chaos it’s creating. It’s been a while since you’ve done a petition or made a list of ideas as an attempt to shut it down, but for now it seems like enough to just hate it. They can’t change your mind. Not Seungmin, not Sam, not Jieun, not Mrs.Yang, not Chan or Changbin or Minho— not any of them, and especially not Hyunjin. You just want to be hateful in peace and you don’t know why you don’t seem to be allowed to do that.

You leave the shop feeling lighter, but also like you didn’t actually get any good advice. Sure they validated your feelings, but that’s it. You’ve been trying to figure out your feelings. You know why you’re frustrated, and even though it felt good to be validated it also felt like a waste. You hold the bag of art supplies closer to you as you walk. The sun is setting, painting the sky reds, and oranges, and purples— and you think maybe you’ll paint that. To represent the end of the turmoil that surrounds you, as something hopeful.

You relish in the soft slope of your shoulders, in the relaxation you so rarely feel nowadays, and walk briskly to your dorm so you can fall into your bed and try to forget about the fact that there’s a party you’re supposed to be at tomorrow.

And as if the thought brought it on, your phone buzzes in your pocket. You pull it out quicker than you’d ever admit and a relieved smile pulls on your lips when you see it’s from Seungmin.

pup: be ready by 9

you: ok!!!!!

you: i miss you

There’s no more responses but you don’t let that dampen your mood. He still wants you to go with him and that says enough. You do feel terrible about the way you acted— the way you’ve been acting— but you know it’s justified. You’re not irrational. Not at all.

If you collapse at the foot of your bed, art supplies sitting on the floor by your feet, and a paper by your head titled #686, no one has to know.

This Saturday has not been a day of relaxation for you. You didn’t have any plans, though instead of enjoying the peace you so rarely received, the day consisted of you running around your room with a frazzled energy following behind like a ghost. At first you contemplated showing up in a sweater and jeans; no makeup, no jewelry, just you and a lazy fit— but realized that would only bring you even more stares than if you dressed as slutily as possible.

It’s with a black leather mini skirt and a black, lacy, low cut long sleeve tucked inside that you finally allow yourself to relax. You’re probably dressed way too flashily for a college party, but you can’t entertain any thoughts like that or you’ll spend the next three hours obsessing over it— and that’s three hours that you don’t have. Knee length boots stare at you from the door and it’s with a sigh that you walk to the door and put them on.

There’s more reasons to be nervous than just the party, between the inevitable walk with Seungmin to the encounter you’re most definitely going to have with the CSC and all of its users, you’re out of your element. There’s not enough deep breaths to make you calm down, there’s no method available to help clear your mind. Your heart races much more than should be healthy. It feels like hell, even, and all you can do is let this plethora of nerves run its course.

When your phone buzzes with Seungmin’s ‘I’m outside’ text, it almost feels like your heart stops. Fuck, Seungmin’s gonna ask who you’re all dressed up for, gonna ask why you’re so nervous. Why are you all dressed up? Why are you even going? It’s too much, too much of not knowing, not understanding, not feeling right. What will it take to get you to feel right? Like in freshman year when your biggest worry was whether or not you were passing your classes, now it feels like that's a lifetime ago. Like you’ve encountered way too much to even consider anything like that— not that you need to worry about it anyway. It was supposed to be a carefree year for you. You’re always on top of your responsibilities, always prepared, and nothing ever changed that until you went on that site for the first and last time.

You stop, relax your shoulders, take a deep breath that’s otherwise pointless, and step out the door. You curse the day you ever went on that website. It’s why everything is all messed up now, but you rid those thoughts from your mind. You’re determined to have fun tonight no matter what, and no matter who’s there.

Seungmin waits at the door, A button-down hanging off his shoulders and jeans. His hair is combed back and he’s ditched the glasses.

“Hey.” It comes out meeker than you’d like, a little too timid for what your relationship with Seungmin is.

“Hey,” he smiles, the braces you love so much on full display. Your best friend is beautiful, and it’s with a pang to your chest, it’s with seeing him now— so welcoming and so normal with you— that a small part of you realizes maybe you have been being irrational. Maybe you have been acting too strongly, but then you remind yourself that you’ve never been irrational. Never.

“So I’m guessing we’re going to the CSC’s dorm?”

“You’ll fit right in,” Seungmin laughs, starting to walk. You struggle to catch up to him; it’s been so long since you last wore heels that it’s hard to get used to. You don’t grace his comment with an answer, simply relishing in the soft nightly breeze and the shine of the moon. The stars glitter from above you, light years away yet so visible. So sure of their stance in life. You don’t think stars blow up at their best friends, or feel confused, or feel lonely.

You arrive at the party all too soon. From a block away you could see people drunk, staggering in the same direction, and from down the street you could hear the bass of the music, but the warning signs weren’t nearly enough to prepare you for the actual sight of it. It’s like the typical house parties you’d see on TV, but louder and more nerve-wracking. People hang out in front, the music loud enough for them to enjoy even from outside the building. Lights flash from behind the window, an array of purples, greens, reds, and blues. You can see people's shadows from behind the curtains over the front windows, and you feel like you’re about to throw up.

“Oh god,” You mumble, taking a few shaky steps inside. You can't do this. You’re gonna freak out and embarrass yourself. You can almost feel the anxiety seeping from your pores, and the word no repeats over and over in your head like a mantra.

No no no no no.

You can’t do this, but you do it anyway. Stepping inside the party is a feat in itself, and you can’t tell if your hands are shaking from the strong bass of the music or because of pure anxiety. The music knocks into your body so strongly that your knees buckle, barely able to hold you upright. At any moment you feel like you might collapse.

You can’t do it but you do it anyway, taking one step and then another, and when the door closes behind you, you resist the urge to turn back and run away. The party is full of people— so full that it’s impossible to walk anywhere without bumping into someone, and despite your best efforts you do get stares. Whether it’s because of what you’re wearing or if it’s because it’s you at a party being held by the CSC… you’re not entirely sure. You don’t think it makes a difference. You try to ignore it, act unbothered, and it must work because after a while they look away, murmuring something or the other about what you’re doing there.

Seungmin drags you away from the door and to the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge and cabinets like it’s his home. You take in the somewhat chill vibe of the kitchen compared to everywhere else. It’s not nearly as full, but there are couples at opposite ends acting as if it isn’t a place where food is kept.

You take a few deep breaths, reassure yourself that you can do this, and even if you can’t you’ll do it anyway. Seungmin doesn’t say anything, just pours you something sweet and fruity in a red cup and hands it over with a raise of his eyebrows. You drink it way too quickly and you know you’re gonna regret it later, but you need the effect it’ll bring. The faux calmness that’ll help you get through the night. Though with how full the party is you think that you won’t be able to see the hosts anytime soon if at all, and that’s enough to bring your heart to a stuttering stop before it resumes its beating in a much more slow paced manner. You’re still not calm, but you’re doing your best.

“Try to relax,” Seungmin chides, his gaze heavy where it bores into you. “Everything will be just fine.”

You nod, taking a more calculated sip of your drink this time. You let the music relax you instead of startle you— focusing on the beats and the melody— on the lyrics, instead of the volume and how it makes your body tremble. You can do this.

When you finally feel like you’re able to relax, Seungmin parts from you, saying there’s some people he has to see. You’re an adult, so you can handle being alone for a few minutes. Eventually, though, the few minutes turn into something longer. You wonder if maybe Seungmin is still upset with you— you didn’t speak much about it on the walk like you thought you would. Honestly, it was mostly silence, and you didn’t think much of it before but you are now. You hold your drink close to your chest, dubbing it your life line for the night.

You last all of thirty minutes before you feel like you’re getting too hot— the building only gets even more stuffy as more people arrive, all of you packaged like a can of sardines. You take the fleeting burst of confidence to leave the kitchen and go to the backyard, hoping that it’ll be a bit more peaceful (as peaceful as possible considering the music blasting), and allow the fresh air to graze your skin like a soft blanket. You sit down on one of the benches in the backyard, leaning your head back and closing your eyes. What will it take to feel at peace? Maybe there’s nothing you can do. And it’s with these thoughts that you do exactly what you shouldn’t do at a party, wallowing in self pity and confusion. You’re so caught up in these thoughts that you don’t notice when someone else joins you.

“Hey, bug.”

Your head whips up faster than what’s comfortable, and you barely hide the wince that struggles to leave your lips. Hyunjin speaks again before you can respond.

“Don’t leave, alright. Please?” He asks, sitting down beside you and smoothing his hands over his pants. “Can we talk?”

“About?”

“About us? About you? I’m tired of running in circles and I want to know why you hate me— the CSC so much.”

You’re silent for a moment, contemplating, thinking. You should get up, leave the backyard and this party altogether. You should ignore whatever it is Hyunjin has to say because he’s the reason for all this, right? Why is he always pretending he doesn’t know; acting like he wants to get to know you? Acting like it really matters how you feel. Everyone wants to understand, everyone wants to know why, but you don’t even know— but you’ll never admit it outright. You’ll never say the one thing that’s been your driven principle for the past year is something you’re unsure about. All you know is that it’s bad, that it’s made you feel ways that were foreign to you, and in order to regain control you need to get rid of it. No matter how anyone else feels about it, no matter who gets upset with you along the way. You need to do it.

Your voice is soft, but not meek. For once, you’re gonna get this entire experience off your chest. “When I first went on the site in the beginning of freshman year I was curious,” You start, glancing at Hyunjin and feeling the tightness in your chest return when you realize he’s already looking at you. “At first, I was curious, and then I was confused. I clicked on a few videos— I scrolled for a while— and I started to get this weird feeling. The more I watched the videos, the more I scrolled through pictures and posts, the feeling got stronger.”

You feel so stupid, but you continue. If Hyunjin makes fun of you he’s just proving your assumptions correct. “I’d never felt that way before and honestly, it kinda scared me, and it was annoying that I didn’t understand it. I didn’t do anything after that. I ignored how fast my heart was beating, how my body was reacting, and never went on that site again. Slowly, that confusion turned into anger— it’s not normal. The way I felt wasn’t normal, and that’s why I think that site needs to get shut down.”

“Bug…” Hyunjin laughs a little and you want to be offended, but you can tell it’s more shock than amusement. “Bug have you ever had sex? Or.. touched yourself at all?”

Your mouth opens and closes comically, but Hyunjin is patient, waiting and watching carefully for you to speak. “Is that what’s important?” You finally say, your eyebrows furrowed and you’re ready to defend yourself if need be. “No, I haven’t.”

“God, bug this is…” Hyunjin squints at you, “I think you were aroused.”

You splutter, feeling your heart rate spike in embarrassment. “What!? No. No.”

“That weird feeling? That heat in your gut,” Hyunjin says, and to punctuate he lays a large, warm, hand over your stomach. “You were horny.” This time, Hyunjin’s laugh is one of amusement, but you're too distracted by how big his hand is, splayed over your stomach and so warm it feels like it’s burning through your clothes.

“Hyunjin, the feeling— no, it doesn’t make sense.”

“Bug, if you’ve never ever been aroused before somehow, of course it felt weird. Holy shit.”

You don’t say anything, but Hyunjin continues before you can get a grip on your thoughts.

“I can’t believe this is the reason why you’ve hated us for so long, I honestly can’t believe it.”

“Hyunjin… that feeling wasn’t pleasurable. Control is pleasurable. I didn’t have a grip on anything that day and barely regained it on the days following. You can’t convince me that getting rid of the CSC won’t bring back a sense of normalcy. You can’t, and even if you’re right, I think that morally, the site is still wrong, and I’m not going to stop trying to shut it down.”

“There’s so much about the CSC you don’t know about, and there’s so much more to pleasure than control.” Hyunjin sighs, clearly more at ease now that he realizes you’re just confused. You don’t know, really, why you hate them. That’s clear. You’re stubborn though, he can tell, and even if this idea he has works— he’s not sure you’ll stop until you get what you want.

Earlier that day the CSC received an email from the dean, threatening that they’ll start looking into all that their site entails because of how often you keep badgering them about it. It’s starting to create a murmur between staff, and they’re growing increasingly frustrated. All that means to Hyunjin is you’re finally breaking through their resolve, running them down enough for them to consider shutting it down or supervising more intensely. Hyunjin can’t have that. None of them can. When Hyunjin approached you tonight he expected to have to beg— to have to plead with you to stop meddling. The site is bigger than you know, more important than some college stupidity. It rakes in a lot of cash, and he can’t have such petty reasoning stop that flow.

Hyunjin’s voice is husky as he continues and his words send an undeniable shiver down your spine “I can show you that the site, and sex by association aren’t bad at all. Mentally, you’re confused and physically, you’re pent up. We can’t have that can we, pretty girl?”

“No, we can’t.”

Wait. What? Yes, we can. Yes you can. You’ve been doing just fine right? You don’t need Hyunjin’s help. He’s not gonna change your mind because your mind doesn’t need changing.

“You can try to shut us down, but at the same time let us help you.”

“Us?” You murmur, attempting to understand what exactly is happening.

“All of us, the CSC can help you figure out what you’re feeling, right? We can help you decide what to do.”

“…You can help me?”

Hyunjin hums, removing his hand from your waist and trailing his finger along the skin just above the hem of your shirt. His fingers dip over your cleavage, tug at your necklace, up and up until your chin is in his hand, and he turns you to face him as his lips brush your cheek. “I want to see who will succeed first, so let me show you that there’s more to pleasure than control.”

He can help you. Out of all the people who ask you why, who say they want to understand but don’t try, he’s the one who’s offering a solution. As annoying as he’s always been to you, as much as he’s always embodied something you hate— the person who’s embedded such foreign feelings in your mind— he wants to help you. He wants to try, and he’s not telling you to stop your goal either. He’s not telling you it’s stupid, he’s not getting angry. He doesn’t make you feel irrational. You’re not irrational. You have a goal and it’s one you’re gonna complete, but… it doesn’t hurt to try, right? And if you succeed, if you shut them down and Hyunjin fails— if the CSC fails you’ll win. You’ll win and prove that you were right all along.

“Go easy on me.”

“Of course, bug.”

You keep your eyes downcast in embarrassment as Hyunjin whispers against your skin, his fingers gently turning your chin up and over to the point of focus. His lips. Pouty, sinfully crimson, curving upwards so surely, like they themselves know their effect on people. They look so soft, so wet. You want to feel them, and it’s as if Hyunjin’s read your mind because his lips are on yours before you can even blink.

“You just kissed me,” Your voice is airy, breathless, and usually you’d be embarrassed.

“Can I do it again?”

There’s a simmering, boiling tension both of you have been ignoring but you’ve lost the will to care about hating Hyunjin or Chan or the CSC. Momentarily, you’ve lost the will to feel much at all but a burning desire to take away any negative emotion you feel. You’re sick of it, sick of feeling confused. Last night you’d dealt with it by crying your eyes out, before that you’d dealt with it by having a screaming match with your best friend, and now you’re ready to look for something to fix it. This just might be the best way to start.

“Not outside.” You whisper, your hands clutching the fabric of Hyunjin’s shirt with such an intensity you’re afraid it’ll rip off then and there.

The trip inside and upstairs is a blur. You’re sure if anyone saw you they stared, wondering what you two were doing together, wondering what you were going upstairs for. It’s a blur, nothing is clear but what you’re going to do at this moment, and with Hwang Hyunjin of all people. Of what you’re going to do in the future, with the CSC of all people, what you’re gonna do to them— what you’re gonna allow them to do to you— that’s the only thing on the forefront of your mind. Not about who’s watching, not about who wants to know. It’s about you. You’re the one in control, you’re the one who gets to decide. You’re the one who needs to know.

Warm. You feel warm all over, pressed against Hyunjin with his thighs spreading yours open, warm in his tight embrace. Your hands are clutching at his clothes, at his arms— It’s so hot, yet somehow the constant cool air of the room makes you shiver.

“W-what do I do?”

Hyunjin chuckles, his voice the softest you’ve ever heard it. “You don’t have to do anything, pretty. Let me handle it.”

Letting Hyunjin handle anything doesn’t sound like a very good idea to you in any instance, but in this case you let him. You’re otherwise clueless in this area and frankly, if you want his help you’re going to have to accept it when it’s given. His mouth lands back on yours, a certain kind of desire running through the kiss. His hands are all over you. Trying to grab at every inch he can, and you try your best to kiss him back with equal intensity— to move your lips against his with the same fervor.

Your heart kicks up an irritating notch when Hyunjin slides a warm hand up your shirt. You can feel the way his fingers ghost over your skin with an unnatural intensity, as if his touch is amplified tenfold. And if Hyunjin had imagined this during late nights, cock shamelessly fisted in his hand as he dreamt of you pushing your panties to the side for him to enter your tight hole, no one has to know.

“Look at me, pretty,” Hyunjin growls, your eyes opening at his command against your better judgement. His pupils are dilated, staring down at you with a foreign intensity. The way he looks at you is an awakening, and with a small burst of confidence, you bury your fingers into the collar of his shirt, bringing him down for another kiss. It’s a little awkward with your inexperience, all teeth and clumsy movements until he takes the lead. His lips feel like heaven and you want them everywhere, want to kiss him forever. You want to sink his soft groans into your skin, keep the taste of him on your tongue for the rest of your days as he licks into your mouth, coaxing feelings out of you you've never felt before— kissing you into blissful dizziness.

"I wonder why you're so pretty, hm? Been torturing me for months, sweet thing," Hyunjin teases, pressing your thighs farther apart, tongue pushing against yours, his lips cherry red. You want to kiss him again. "I don’t think you really hate me, bug.”

Your breath hitches when his hands move to your skirt, slipping under the hem and holding the fabric tightly. God, you feel so bare. Like Hyunjin is looking at you from the inside out. When he pulls your skirt down slowly, so slowly it feels like time stands still, all that’s on your mind is him. His breathing, his touch, his warmth. When your pink, lacy panties come into view the chuckle Hyunjin lets out is so deep it feels like a heavy blanket over your mind, soothing you yet igniting something in you that you didn’t know existed. God, you’re in the demon's bed but you feel like you’ve gotten a taste of heaven, and when those soft, cherry red lips ghost over your skin, trailing over your pelvis, leaving light kisses along your skin, all you can do is jerk in his hold. You’re so sensitive. So, so sensitive.

His hands grip your waist tightly and his lips trail upwards, the bridge of his nose pushing your shirt up until it’s so high your breasts threaten to fall, smothering Hyunjin’s face underneath them. You shiver at the thought, those sinful lips pressing kisses against the skin of your breasts; what would it feel like? Would it feel like this? This feeling that you’re still so unfamiliar with?

"Pretty girls deserve to know what it feels like to have me right here,” Hyunjin starts, leaning down to press a trail of kisses to your inner thigh. He bites and marks along the fleshiest parts, chuckling at your quiet whimpers and yelps. You didn’t know you could make sounds like that. He slides a hand up between your thighs and rubs between your folds, still covered by your lacy panties. “Did you come to impress someone tonight?” Hyunjin murmurs, before splitting them to rub your clit through the fabric. You feel like falling as he circles between your thighs, a gasp hiccupping at the base of your throat before it gets stuck— you can’t make a sound.

You faintly hear the rustle of clothing and the absence of Hyunjin’s touch, opening your eyes to see him pulling his shirt off, biceps flexing as he does. He’s so big, and fuck, his whole body could cover your own if he really wanted. He towers over you, caging you in and surrounding you from all sides. When his shirt is off and thrown somewhere to the floor, he looms over you, his hands pressing into the bedding at either side of your head, and all you can do is gasp— your eyes widening at his proximity.

“You okay?” He whispers, and you nod.

“Yes.”

It’s breathless. It’s not you. It’s not the person who wanted nothing to do with Hyunjin only a day ago, but you want answers. You want clarity. And right now, you want this.

Hyunjin wastes no time after your confirmation, his fingers slipping under your panties and ghosting over your skin. He lets out a harsh breath at the feeling where you’re otherwise silent, trusting that he knows what to do. When a rush of cool air blows over you though, your legs close instinctively, and Hyunjin hums, “Stay with me, bug.”

“I’m here,” You respond, slowly spreading your legs back wide and allowing him to pull your underwear down until they’re hanging off ur ankle, your arousal sticks to the fabric, but with a flick of his wrist they’re gone. They’re gone. Oh god. You’re really doing this. You take a deep breath, and when a warm hand comes to cradle your cheek you lean into the warmth. It’s okay. You’re okay.

Soft lips press against your skin, tainting the unmarked flesh with bites and bruises. He paints your neck purple and blue, fingers ghosting between your thighs, tracing and playing with the obvious wetness coating your arousal. His mouth travels upwards, pressing against your own as he claims your lips in a devouring kiss. Everything is on fire, hot and burning as lust begins to entirely consume you for the first time.

A small moan slips past your lips as he dips a finger into your slick, warm cunt, and you clench around the digit almost immediately as instinct. The cool air and your nerves make your thighs tremble, but it doesn’t seem to affect Hyunjin— not at all— if the way he keeps eye contact with you while he fingers you slowly is any indicator. Painfully slow. You don’t know if this is to help you or torture you, and you can’t help the way your thighs tense under his ministrations.

The man before you reaches his other hand towards the hem of your top to pinch the edge of it between an index finger and thumb, and pulls the cloth away from your skin.

His eyes bore into yours: “This okay?”

“Fuck, the more you ask me the more nervous I get.”

“Okay, okay. I don’t wanna make you nervous.”

“Just… be nice to me, Hyunjin. Okay?”

Hyunjin smiles, and you exhale, relaxing into Hyunjin’s sheets and letting his musky cologne consume your senses as his touch roams everywhere else.

And then finally— yet all too quickly— the shirt is tugged away from your breasts and they fall freely as Hyunjin eagerly leans closer. His nose presses against one of your hardened nipples, and you watch his pupils dilate quicker than you thought was possible. He’s barely holding back the urge to fuck you dumb, and the finger that still thrusts slowly into your cunt stutters in its movements.

Look at you. His eyes roam over the look on your face, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth, bright eyes glazed over and hooded in a bliss that’s otherwise foreign to you, a particular ease directed towards him. Then he shamelessly let his eyes drop down to your thighs that tremble even harsher under his gaze. The action only forces his mind to run wild. He can’t help but wonder how you do it— looking all innocent— being all innocent but acting like you’re not. Like you’re so sure. You’re confused, god, you don’t know what real pleasure is— and it’s Hyunjin’s job to teach you. Fuck, did he want to be under you, gazing up at your through half lidded eyes, hungrily eating up the sight of you bouncing on his cock like the slut you could be.

He dipped his head down, holding your breast in his large hand and rubbing over your nipples with his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud. Your hands automatically perched themselves on his shoulders, and he grins, moving the finger thrusting into your cunt harsher, faster.

“Oh, god,” You moan, loud, your grip on his bare shoulders tightening ever so slight. His skin was warm under your fingers— soft and smooth and fuck if it didn’t feel good.

He groans, cock stiffening more than it already had. At this rate he was probably going to cum in his pants untouched, but he held himself back. He wanted to do this right— show you all that pleasure could be. He moved his mouth from your nipple to slip lower, down lower and lower still until he came face to face with your arousal.

“Fuck. You’re driving me crazy.”

“Oh- oh Hyunjin help me, please,” You pleaded, his shoulders too far to grip onto; your hands instead finding his hair, running your fingers through and pulling when he nosed at your clit, groaning heartily when your wetness clinged to his skin.

It’s with a lick to your clit that you wail, your thighs threatening to close, and they would have if Hyunjin’s hands hadn’t reached out to force them down, pushing further and sticking his face into your arousal with more fervor, licking and sucking with such vigor that it felt as if he was trying to devour you. Your thighs trembled with every movement of his tongue, poking and prodding at every inch of your cunt, his nose dug against your clit and for a moment it felt like you were seeing stars. Your eyes fluttered shut, your mouth letting out uncontrollable moans.

You didn’t think it’d feel this good. But, you remind yourself, control feels better. You can’t let him change that— he won’t change that.

The obscene sounds that came from his actions should’ve embarrassed you, but nothing like that came to mind. Hyunjin was relentless, and you couldn’t even think of anything more than the feeling of his hair between your fingers and his tongue slurping at your cunt.

You tried to quiet your moans by clamping a hand over your mouth, but sitting up and watching the way he sucked and licked at your arousal made your head spin. He made the action so nasty. So filthy. He was wild yet careful. But what did you know? All you knew was that it was driving you insane and you didn’t know anything could feel this good.

Besides control, of course. And you assume, the eradication of the CSC would, also.

Suddenly, your stomach tenses, your body locking up, and you quickly cream all over his tongue, shaky moans slipping through your pretty lips. Your thighs shook from the aftershock, trying to come down from this feeling. Afterwards, Hyunjin’s actions felt too harsh. He didn’t change pace at all, but it felt like your body was going to arch its way into oblivion. Unable to ignore the sensitivity of your body any longer, you pushed against his head until he stopped, attempting to catch your breath.

“You okay?”

You hum, begging the beating of your heart to soften, though as soon as it finally did you looked back at Hyunjin and saw his pants sliding down his legs. His toned, muscular legs, and it started its harsh beating once again. That wasn’t it? Of course, that’s wasn’t it, but fuck. You don’t know if you can handle anything more.

The headboard of his bed knocks against the wall as he climbs back up on the bed, moving his body closer this time and instead of only his chest hovering over you, this time his legs cage you in, one on either side, as your heart pounds itself into oblivion.

One hand supported his weight on the pillow by your head while the other was preoccupied, curled around his cock as he stared down at you— something akin to a beast in his gaze. Tip reddened and precum oozing from the slit while he groaned. The tingly feeling in your groin was coming back, similar to the fluttering you always felt whenever Hyunjin would come bother you. It intensifies when Hyunjin wraps your legs around his waist and pulls you closer to him, your body dragging the bedding from under you and you yelp.

He rubs the tip of his cock against your twitching folds, teasing actions feeling more like torture before he finally sinks in. Slowly, deliberately, but you still tense. It’s scary, having something stick itself inside of you.

“Relax,” Hyunjin murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Stay with me.”

You do your best, forcing your body to relax, as he sinks deeper and deeper still. Hyunjin grunts softly when you clench down on him, and he sighs as you blink dazedly up at him.

Pretty eyes are locked intensely on your cunt, Hyunjin watching the slide of his cock as he thrusts inside. His hair is plastered along his sweat slicken forehead, and he sinks back into your slick walls with another languid roll of his hips.

“Fuck you’re so tight, baby.”

You moan, high and light, your eyes fluttering closed in bliss while Hyunjin’s chest expands with a shaky breath. He rolls his hips into yours— sinking his cock into your virgin cunt saying the filthiest words you’ve ever known before his words break off into a moan, his tone lower and deeper than his playful one. Tonight you’re seeing a whole new side of him— a new persona. This isn’t the annoying Hwang Hyunjin who bothers you and calls you ‘bug’, this is the Hwang Hyunjin everyone else knows. The one you hadn’t met yet.

“Oh, please don’t stop— be nice to me,” You babble, your hands grabbing at whatever you can— his shoulders, his back, his hair; and that’s all it takes before he suddenly takes up a pace that’s a little faster, rougher as your pussy squelches, wet and messy while your arousal smears along your thighs and the sheets.

Your body jolts with each thrust, pussy clenching around him as Hyunjin moans—every twitch and squeeze of your pussy leaving him breathless. “Come on, baby,” He pleads, and you don’t know what to do. You’re too lost in the haze of pleasure that’s taken over you— you can’t hear past the slap of your skin and Hyunjin’s groans in your ear. You know you’re moaning, but you can barely hear yourself. It’s all Hyunjin. Him all over you, surrounding you, making you feel good.

He grunts as you clench down on him with another roll of his hips, sinking deeper into you with each thrust. “That’s it, pretty,” he grunts, “Taking me so well, fuck. So greedy for me.” And again, you feel that strange feeling before tensing up, your body convulsing and arching up as Hyunjin’s thrusts grow more frantic— harsher and harsher as he groans gutturally in your ear with one last thrust long and deep, and when something shoots deep inside, you shiver one last time before your body sinks into the mattress and Hyunjin’s weight cases you in.

You feel boneless, lethargic with your movement. You feel when Hyunjin gets off you, when he closes your legs after slipping your underwater back on. You hear it when he sighs, something light and satisfied, and you barely manage to answer when he asks you how you feel. You can’t do much more than sigh, but it seems like enough for him— like that was the exact answer he was looking for. You succumb to blissful sleep right before the door shuts behind Hyunjin.

“Hear me out,” Hyunjin sighs, a lazy smile on his features even still. You’re no joke even if you might not know it yet. “I think it could really work.”

“You want us to convince Y/n to what? Leave us alone or..?” Jeongin says, leaning against the table in the kitchen.

The party has long been over, there’s a mess everywhere but it’s empty except for the eight boys and you knocked out in Hyunjin’s bed. Jisung sits sprawled on the couch, head twisted ever so slightly to betray that he’s listening to the conversation, Jeongin leans against the table and Chan has his arms folded where he leans against the wall serving as the entrance between the kitchen and the living room.

Minho downs a bottle of water by the sink, and Changbin leans against the fridge, leveling Hyunjin with an intense look. Felix and Seungmin sit on the couch opposite Jisung where they have a full view of everything and everyone.

“She barely even knows what porn is, so I said I could convince her the site isn’t that bad— and is something she could grow to like, if not love.” Hyunjin explains, his eyebrows raising in wait for the retaliation that’s sure to come.

“Why should we?” Minho asks, with a swallow, “If she doesn’t like it, honestly what does it matter.” Heads nod in agreement.

“Listen, they’re starting to consider whatever the fuck she’s selling them at those little meetings, and I got an email about investigation if this keeps up. If we fail to change her mind, we can at least distract her enough for the heat to lessen a little.”

Chan nods, “I don’t think it’s a bad idea.” He shrugs, looking over at everyone in the kitchen. “We change her mind, then we got one less problem to deal with.”

“And if we don't?” Changbin asks, tilting his head at both Hyunjin and Chan. “And if this is just a waste of time?”

“It isn’t,” Hyunjin assures, “Trust me.”

The rest of them don’t argue, but Hyunjin feels Seungmin’s gaze boring into him from the couch, feels his questions burning at the tip of his tongue, begging to be let out, so he leaves before they can succeed.

“We can talk about it more later, but I think it’ll work. It’s a good deed, and I know how much you guys love those.” Some scoffs and laughs fill the room, but Hyunjin is already halfway up the stairs, a plan forming in his mind and a pleasant smile growing on his face.

a note from iris: this chapter was late because of that long ass smut scene so i hope it was enjoyable and that this wasn’t 17k worth of a snoozefest 😭 i’m sorry it’s late!! so sorry but it’s still friday even if it’s 11 pm <3<3 not beta read not nothin so pls.. spare me.. and i hope you liked it !!!

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clingy hyunnie.

c l i n g y h y u n n i e .

holy crap that is sUCH a dream, im actually going delulu. this was so cute i wanna sob a little that its not my reality 🥲

Kisses at 3:00 A.M.

Hwang Hyunjin x fem!Reader

you wake up to find his side of the bed empty

♩one-shot, (I can't believe I'm saying this but) just fluff, pure fluff, romance, a not really well-written make-out scene, mention of jet-lag, reader is supposed to be on the chubbier side, hyunjin calls reader 'sunshine'

♩♩word count: 1.6k

♩♩♩A/N: this one's for my baby sunshine @seungly

"Jinnie? What are you doing up so late?"

The long world tour was over and your boyfriend was back home with you. Although you've kept up the habit of exchanging good mornings and good nights, as well as video calls for at least half an hour each day, it was still different from having him by your side in person.

JYP had finally let your boyfriend off the hook and decided to give them a long break. You wanted Hyunjin to go home to his family and Kkami, whom he hadn't seen in a long time, but he offered to spend this time off with you. After arguing back and forth for several rounds, you finally lost to his persistence.

Maybe he loved you more than you thought?

"Sunshine, I'm awake only because I'm still jet-lagged, what are you doing up?"

He had just returned from the other side of the world, and had not yet adjusted to the time difference. Although he accompanied you to bed at night, he only propped his head on his side and watched you slowly fall asleep with tender eyes. You knew he wouldn't fall asleep right away, he wasn't a guy who would go to bed early, but you thought he'd be able to at least lie in bed and rest for a while. Instead, you woke up at 3 AM from thirst and found that his side of the bed was empty.

With slight confusion, you put on your slippers and walked out of the bedroom.

He was wearing the apron he would put on when he was painting, holding a paintbrush in his hand, sitting in his studio, holding his chin and pondering something. The sound of your footsteps walking into the studio finally caught his attention.

"I woke up thirsty and noticed you weren't with me, so I came out."

You walked up behind him and looked over his shoulder at the canvas to see what he was painting, only to find it empty.

Hearing you say you were thirsty, he reached over and lifted the mug from a side table and handed it to you. You took it and looked down to find that it wasn't filled with water, but with brown liquid. You leaned in close to smell it, then frowned and pressed the bottom of the mug against Hyunjin's head.

"Drinking iced Americano at 3 AM? No wonder you have trouble sleeping."

"I only drank it after I realized I couldn't sleep." He somewhat sheepishly took the mug off his head, but excuses were still coming out of his mouth. "Water is over there."

He finished by pointing to a few scattered bottles of mineral water in the far corner. You sighed and walked in the direction he pointed after leaving a kiss on the top of his head.

"Is it a lack of inspiration? I see nothing on your canvas."

After finishing your water, you came behind Hyunjin again, wrapping both arms around his neck and resting your chin on the top of his head.

"Mhm…" He put down the brush in his hand and caressed your hand, rubbing his thumb back and forth against the back of it, "Why don't you give me some inspiration?"

Upon hearing those words, your face flushed.

Those words wouldn't mean anything to anyone else, but to the two of you, they mean… He wanted to kiss you.

He said to you a long time ago, before you were even dating, that you were his inspiration. And you flirtatiously asked him if he would be inspired by a kiss. He just stared at you for a long time and didn't say anything. You don't remember how you ended up kissing or how you suddenly became his girlfriend. The only thing you knew was that after that, "finding inspiration" became the excuse for kissing.

You sat across his lap and cupped your hands around his tilted head. His hand slid all the way down your back to your rear, and just when you thought he was helping you sit still, his hands gave your waist a squeeze.

"What are you doing with your hands? We finally get intimate time and this is what you do?" Your hand pinched the flesh on his cheek in return, his eyes narrowing slowly as he watched you.

"Like you said, it's been a while since we've had an intimate time like this, so of course I had to feel you more." His face squeezed up as he spoke in a slightly odd voice, but you caught it all anyway. "Do you even have any idea how much I missed you while I was away? Every night when I was video chatting with you, I wished so much that you were by my side…"

You knew he was just taking the opportunity to feel you up a little more while he was talking, but because he did look pretty cute, you didn't bust him and just listened to him complain for nearly a minute about how much he missed you this whole time.

"… So, you're not supposed to reject me." By the time he finished that sentence, his hand had gone from your rear around to your thigh.

"Jinnie, are you going to kiss me or are you going to keep talking?"

"Kiss please."

You lowered your head, closing the gap between the two of you. First, you press on gently, then you sank deeper, eventually your lips pressed tightly together, interlocking your breaths with each other. Hyunjin's lips opened slightly as the tip of his tongue slipped into your mouth. The kiss was sweeter than usual, with more tongue interaction, twisting, stirring and trailing in your mouth. You close your eyes and feel the sweetness and beauty with your whole soul. In this moment, you both forgot all your worries and just immersed yourselves in the emotions you felt for each other. It appears that he felt dizzy first, not sure if it was due to lack of oxygen or a rapid heartbeat, he gently pushed you and ended the kiss. But just the next second, he lost control again, feeling far from enough, lips slowly slid down to your ears, and then all the way down to the side of your neck, and then the collarbone, and began to gently suck on the sensitive skin. His hands slowly leave your waist and move to your chest, trying to peel away the clothes that were in his way.

But you grab his arm before he can succeed, stopping him in his tracks.

A red mark was left where he had been kissing.

"Jinnie, no."

He looks up at you dissatisfied, as if he wasn't done yet.

"You don't want to do it here? We can go to the couch then-" His hands returned to your hips as he asked, making move to pick you up.

You waved your hand in a hurry, telling him not to.

"It's not that I don't want to do it here, it's that I can't right now. I have work tomorrow and I have to get up early, so if we continue now……"

"You're afraid you won't be able to get up in the morning?"

He finished your sentence for you before you could.

Your face flushed as you gave him a light smack on the shoulder.

"You're off easy now, with all this time available to rest. But your poor sunshine still has to go on working."

With that, you gestured for him to release you for you to get off his lap. Although he still looked reluctant, your reason was indisputable. Unable to talk you out of it, he had to let go of his hand.

"Why can't my sunshine take a few days off?" He pretended to be talking to himself, but his eyes were looking in your direction, and continued when he saw that you were unmoved: "I couldn't be with you during tour, and now I still can't be with you even when I'm back home… Poor Hyunjin~ abandoned by Y/N~ so lonely~ so lonely at home alone~"

"Jinnie… You know that's not true, you know I want to be home with you too right?"

You put your hand on his shoulder again and looked at him with concerned eyes.

"I know I know… I was just kidding… But the lonely part is true." He stood up and took you by the wrist, leading you to the couch off to the side for you to sit down. "So, to make me less lonely when I'm without you, I'm going to paint you."

Your eyes widened a little, but he was already walking back in the direction of the canvas.

"You can just sleep here, so I can just try to paint you while you sleep. Thanks to the kiss just now, I'm filled with inspiration!"

You opened your mouth to say something, but you swallowed your words when you realized this was a way to make it up to him. In addition, he seemed really excited to be able to paint you.

You lay down on the couch and spread the folded blanket over your body from the side.

"Make me look good, I'll be checking in the morning."

Leaving such words behind, you closed your eyes listening to his chuckle.

......

The first thing you felt when you woke up the next day was the breath from someone on the neck. You tried to move, but you were tightly held in the embrace of that person, unable to move.

The couch was big enough for one person, but a bit too small for two people to squeeze together. You wanted to wake Hyunjin up, but when you looked up and saw Hyunjin's peaceful sleeping features, you couldn't bring yourself to do so.

"I just love you too much…" You whispered.

Forget it, you could take a day off to be with him. You couldn't bear to let him feel lonely.

permanent taglist: @zoe8stay @yutaalove @seungly @chewryy @cosmic-railwayxo @starlostseungmin