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I am currently deeply invested in Im_Sorry_Buddy's fic Spilled Ink. please please please can we go back to dust and note/ink hanging out. we didn't know how good we had it at the time.

— for the protection of creation.

is ftfo still relevant around these parts?? (/lh) but hi yes if you havent heard of this fic, you're missing out. its got heavy hurt (it gets worse before it gets better) but if you love found family its sooo so worth it bc omg i Love the found family SO MUCH (also ft. some human healer!ink and ftfo!error designs bc slay)

also some (sorta spoiler-y doodles) !! theres a few more on my insta but im too lazy to get em all lmaoo

Lena Butcher.

The Selfish Gene by @deliciouskeys

tip 143 — part 1.

pairing— jung hoseok x reader   genre— camboy/camgirl au, friends to lovers, smut, comedy, fluff warnings— voyeurism, masturbation, dirty talk word count— 12k about— Even though he is everything you find attractive in a man, your friend and co-worker Jung Hoseok is just exactly that - a friend and co-worker. For some reason, you have never found yourself attracted to him even though all the girls and guys around you go absolutely crazy for him.

But that all changes for you one night while scrolling through Heart2Heart, a sex live cam website…

ml. | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05

“Y/N, you’re a girl, right?”

At the question, you stop counting the change inside the till in front of you to lift your gaze up at the boy who slid up by your side. Your brows quirk up at him in slight annoyance because now you have to recount all the dimes again, but Taehyung does not notice because he was too busy staring straight ahead at the small crowd of five huddled by the door of the juice shop you both work at. Starting from one, you count again with a sigh, answering him as well, “Last time I checked, yeah.”

“Oh, right,” Taehyung acknowledges you for a fraction of a second before his envious gaze returns to where it previously was – to Jung Hoseok, another co-worker of yours, surrounded by a group of very giggly college girls, one of whom that Taehyung has an infatuation with. “So can you explain to me why Hoseok seems to get all the girls when Jungkook is the most well built out of all the guys that work here…” Hearing his name, Jungkook turns off the tap and joins the two of you - abandoning the dirty plastic blenders still in the sink - just as Taehyung adds, “And I’m the most good-looking one?”

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hi! Could I get a loki x platonic teen girl with autism/ADHD? Like maybe she's clingy and is always following him around but he fine because it helps both of them

Snow Globes

One-Shot Masterlist Complete Masterlist

Summary: Your best friend Peter brings you to the Avengers Tower as a birthday present. Pairing: Platonic!Loki x Female Reader x Platonic!Peter Parker Word Count: 2.3K Warnings: Fluff. Mentions of anxiety, anxiety attacks. A/N: Thanks @littlesister20001 for the request and for letting me pick your brain. This kinda derailed and started telling it's own story. For some reason, Peter really needed to be in this fic. I hope you don't mind. Also, thanks to @michelleleewise for giving me advice on this fic. Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

The first time the two of you met, he was hiding from his brother after pulling one of his pranks.

You, were on the kitchen floor hiding in the corner. You had covered your ears from the loud sounds of an irate Thor yelling and fuming while looking for Loki. You tried to stop the sensory overload from getting to you.

It was too much. It was always too much.

Earlier that day, Peter had given you a tour of The Avengers Tower where he had been awarded an internship with STARK Industries. You were so excited and happy for him. He knew that you were a big fan of The Avengers. So, he thought that he could take you to meet them.

“Hey Gigi, it’s gonna be ok,” Peter said to you as he held your hand. Your nickname hung in your ears, calming you down. You’ve always liked how it sounded. So you decided long ago that it would be your chosen name. “They’re gonna love you. I know you’ve wanted to come with me for a while. It’s gonna be fun. You’ll see.”

He was always so patient with you. So endearing. Ever since freshmen orientation, Ned, Peter, and MJ always looked out for you during school.  They understood your need for routine and structure. For quieter spaces and the familiar.

“I – I don’t know about this Peter.” You stammered. You looked down and retreated even further into the giant fluffy hoody you had on. You started breathing faster, the enclosed space of the elevator had suddenly gotten smaller and smaller. The walls were moving in. The ceiling was coming down. All the while the lift was taking you higher and higher.

You were not ready.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Peter said rubbing your arm. “I’m here. I’m here. And you know that I will not let anything happen to you. Ok?” The softness of your hoody rubbed against your skin, soothing you where Peter rubbed your arm. “We can stay for as long as you’d like or leave whenever you want,” he consoled. You simply nodded your head, looking down.

The bell on the lift rang a soft chime and the doors opened to a bright room. Peter stayed standing still, pushing the ‘Door Open’ button on the lift. “Whenever you’re ready, Gigi,” he smiled.

You took a tentative step forward but rocked back on your heels. You bit down on your lip taking deep, concentrated breaths. Peter, bless his soul, was just smiling at you as you took that proverbial leap and walked out onto the hallway of the common rooms.

You were awed at how big and open the space was. Modern furnishings in neutral colors were scattered throughout the great room. The last thing you noticed were the three men coming their way to greet you.

Your eyes widened and you took a deep breath trying to control your nervous energy.

“Hey, Peter. Who’s your friend?” Steve said first, holding out his hand for a shake. You stared at that hand. You couldn’t bring yourself to touch him. You felt unworthy. Here he was! Your hero, Captain America.

You were lost inside yourself. Emotions battled inside of you trying to vie for dominance. Bubbling excitement. Debilitating fear. Sheer embarrassment. You couldn’t even look up into their eyes. You just stood there, a little ways behind Peter, and waved.

“Hey, guys. This is my friend. The one I told you about, Gigi.” Peter introduced you. Steve took back his hand and smiled while he nodded to Peter in understanding.

“Hi.” You said meekly, waving timidly into the air.

“This is Sam. And over here is Tony.” Steve pointed respectively. The two other men said hi.

“Um kid, I need you and your friend to stay here in the common room. I can’t have you guys wandering the tower right now.” Tony Stark said to Peter.

“Sure, Mr. Stark. We weren’t going to go very far anyway. Right, Gigi?” Peter exclaimed looking at you. You looked up with big doe-eyes and shook your head.

“Good.” Sam smiled. “Cuz Thor’s on a rampage right now after Loki put hair dye in his shampoo.” He continued laughing.

“So until we calm him down, it’s best that you guys don’t run into him – or Loki. So stay here in the living room. OK?” Tony asked. Both you and Peter nodded. “Good. Help yourselves to whatever’s in the fridge. There are snacks and beer.” Tony said as he walked away towards the elevator. You retreated further behind your friend. No one noticed, except Peter, who held your hand.

“Tony!” Steve chastised. “They’re not old enough!” Right?” he turned to Sam, asking the last part of his question. “That law hasn’t changed while I was under.”

“Nope. Still the same Cap.” Sam said clapping him on the back as the two soldiers followed Tony into the elevator. Peter held your hand a little longer till you were comfortable enough to let him go.

The living room was huge with large windows that spanned from floor to ceiling. You stood in front of them, basking in the warm sunlight. Peter gave you a small tour of the common rooms and the adjoining kitchen. He pointed out the doors and hallways that would lead to other parts of the tower, “But we can’t go there until Thor calms down. So maybe you’d just have to come back.” Peter smiled.

“It’s too bad that Ned and MJ couldn’t come with us.” You said.

“Well, they’re not really welcome back. Ned kept fangirling over the others. And MJ, well, let’s just say that there is now a tracker located in Mr. Barnes’s metal arm.” He chuckled embarrassedly. You laughed at the idea of Peter’s girlfriend, your BFF, and her insatiable curiosity.

“I’m sure she would’ve given it back. She’s curious about Wakandan technology. I would be too.”

“That’s why you have to come back,” Peter said smiling. “When you’re able to see more of the building.”

Just then, a war cry came in through the hallways making you hide behind Peter.

“Brother! I demand you show your face this instant.” Thor walked out with the brightest red hair. His long golden locks had turned into the color of a ripened tomato, along with his scraggly beard. In truth, you liked the red on Thor. He seemed more regal and more commanding. But his lightning-death stare had you nearly falling to the ground.

“Hey! Mr. Thor, god of thunder, Odinson, sir,” Peter greeted him, trying to shield you.

“Spiderling. Have you seen my brother?” Spiderling? you thought. Thor’s voice boomed, reverberating in your ear. “I know that you harbor him sometimes. Out with it!”

“I haven’t seen him. I swear. I’ve only just arrived with my friend Gi-” Peter turned to point to you but you had already disappeared. “Oh, no, no, no, no. Thor!” Peter said grabbing hold of Thor’s arm. His earlier reticence, gone. “You have to help me find her! She can’t be alone. She’ll get lost! Then she’ll have a panic attack.”

“All right, little spider. I will help you look. Maybe we’ll spot my wicked brother along the way.”

This was such a bad idea. Right now, you were a mess. Of course, it was loud and boisterous. Agents and heroes running about. All scrambling to find him – Loki, the god of Mischief. Unfamiliar people in an unfamiliar setting.

It was just so much. You cried at the fact that most people would be able to handle the environment they’re in. They can go about their day with little to no care about the noises. Or the lights. Or the smells. Or the feels. You sat there hugging your knees, taking deep shaky breaths.

You opened your eyes to a blurry kitchen. Pots and pans stared back at you as your eyes began to focus and you started to establish where you were.

A small pink petal wafted in front of you. And then another one. Now, I’m hallucinating. Great. Just another thing to add to what’s wrong with me.

But more petals started to show and along with them, came the smell of fresh grass and perfumed flowers. You looked up at the ceiling only to find a large cherry blossom tree sprouted in the middle of the kitchen. Its beautiful branches sprouted up past the ceiling. Their leaves were swayed by a hidden wind. You reached up to touch it, standing, capturing one of them in the palm of your hands.

“This usually helps me when I lose myself.” A deep voice said behind you. You turned around alarmed, knocking down more pots and pans. The loud noise made you cower within yourself further.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said. You heard his voice, strong but gentle, through your hands covering your ears. “Focus.”

Focus he said, and you did. You focused on one petal at a time. You watched it being plucked from the branches of the tree and slowly make its descent down to the floor. As soon as it touched the tile, it disappeared.

You made a shocked face of awe and wonder. You looked up again watching another petal fall and follow its way down. You followed several other petals until your breathing deepened and slowed.

“Better?” the man asked. And you nodded.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, little one.”

“Other than family and close friends, no one really has the patience to deal with me. Especially when I’m in one of my episodes.” You said sheepishly looking back down.

“As I said, I understand.”

“You’re the god of mischief, aren’t you?”

“Ah, I see my reputation precedes me.”

“I – I recognize you from the news reports and social media.” You said shyly.

“No doubt footage from the New York attack,” Loki said disdainfully. He knew when he was being judged. Another lost cause before they even got to know him.

“Yes! I mean - No. I saw you during the New York attacks. But it made me curious about you. It’s not every day you see mythology come to life. I read about Thor too,” you gushed. Loki rolled his eyes.

“And I read all the stories they wrote about you in the Prose Edda!”

“Thank you.” Loki was filled with pride and reddened slightly. “So, are you to be the cook? What exactly are you doing here in the kitchen, crying on the floor?”

“I came with Peter. He knew I was a big fan of you guys, that you were my heroes. He wanted to bring me along...as a birthday present…” you trailed off.

“Another friend of the spiders? I thought you were all banned from coming back.” Normally, Loki would be appalled to be lumped up with his current teammates. However, when you had adjoined him as a hero, he felt honored.

“Why do you guys keep calling him Spider? Is he-(GASP) -is he an Avenger too?”

“No! No, no, no. Why would you say that? No.” Loki looked at you with wide eyes. There were very few of the Avengers that hid their faces. He forgot that poor Peter was one of them. He’s still too young to have such responsibility as this thrust upon him. Who knows what the world would do when it found out that Peter Parker is Spiderman?

SLAM! The kitchen door opened and Thor burst in, pointing Stormbreaker in Loki’s face.

“AHA! I found you now, brother! Your little tricks gave you away. Your illusions spread outside into the corridors.” Thor boomed.

You hid behind Loki, covering your ears. Thor’s voice boomed with thunder and malice.

“Thor! Stop you’re scaring her!” Peter yelled at him.

“Her, who?” Thor said unable to see past his anger towards his brother. Loki turned around towards you, revealing your hunched figure behind him.

“Focus, little one,” Loki said bending down. You heard his deep soft voice and you looked up to see petals raining down again. Loki enclosed your hands inside his own. When he opened them, a small glass bubble nestled in between your palms. The bubble was smooth and clear like glass. And inside was a miniature cherry blossom tree.

You stood there, enraptured, watching as the leaves on the small tree swirled around inside whenever you shook the bauble.

“It’s yours now. Keep it safe. Shake it when you need to.” Loki said in a calm, soothing voice. “Happy Birthday.”

“Thank you,” you sniffled a small smile as Peter gently rubbed your arm.

“Hey, Gigi. You ok?” Peter asked.

“Yes, Spider. Thank you,” you said looking up at him. Peter’s eyes turned round and his cheeks flush as he scratched his head.

“Spider? Wh-why ever would you call me that? Heh. Um…why don’t we go back outside now.”

“They call you Spider!” You said pointing to the mythological gods. “I thought it was a chosen name. Like mine.” You concluded as Peter led you out.

“Can I ask you more questions about the myths?” You babbled at Loki. “Did you really cut off Sif’s hair? Is Sleipnir-”

“No! He’s not real.” Loki answered quickly. Thor laughed. You quickly turned to face him.

“I like your hair red, by the way. It makes you look more – kingly!” You said to Thor and he ran his fingers through his beard. His smug face appreciated the compliment.

Peter immediately saw the change in you. This is how you normally were in front of him. Curious and bubbly. When you were fixated on something, it hardly gave your mind room to worry about your environment or the unfamiliarity of it all. He took a deep breath knowing that you would be ok.

You were welcomed back almost immediately. A first amongst Peter’s friends. Mainly because you kept the mischievous god in check. He loved having you around. His own ‘fangirl’ as Mr. Stark liked to call you. Mr. Laufeyson would regale you with stories of Asgard and dispel any false myths that you had learned. All the while making sure that you felt at home and safe around the tower. Always willing to shower you with flower petals when you felt pressured or stressed. As if you were in your own tiny slow globe.

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@alexs1200 @a-witch-with-words @athalialaufeyson @britishserpent @crimson25 @el-zef @fictive-sl0th @gigglingtigger @goldencherriess @huntress-artemiss @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @immersed-in-mischief @kellatron55 @kkdvkyya @lokidbadguy @lokiprompts @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @lokisgoodgirl @lokisninerealms @lokischambermaid @loopsisloops @lucylaufeyson3 @luvlady-writes @michelleleewise @mischief2sarawr @muddyorbs @nopenottodayson @one-oblivious-nerd @ozymdias @peaches1958 @salempoe @theaudacitytowrite @user13cabs @vbecker10 @wheredafandomat @xorpsbane @vickie5446

Incoming: Elite Chatboy (pt. 1)

pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4 | pt 5

→ pairing: sex chat worker jungkook x reader

→ genre: text au (smau without the social media), smut, humor

→ scenario: welcome to Elite Chatroom, a sex chat company with a wide variety of services such as text messaging, phone call, and video chat. you signed up online for the most basic text service plan not knowing what to expect, but you certainly didn’t think you’d end up actually liking the man behind the screen.

→ warning: sexting, professional dom jungkook, teasing bratty sub reader, crack humor amidst explicit dirty talk, mutual masturbation, degradation, praise kink. mentions of: size kink, creampie, cum tasting (reader), light pain kink.

→ a/n: this is another one of my works that is being reposted from a deactivated blog of mine, so again, if you’ve seen this before no u haven’t <3 below the cut is a whole session so it’s a bit longer than a typical text au part, but regardless i hope you enjoy! i have all the background info for this au mapped out as well so if u have any questions please don’t hesitate to ask :)

→ note: his contact name in the first two parts is a typo!! it’s supposed to say Elite Chatroom: Jungkook instead of just Jungkook rip

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when i'm quiet on the other side, know that i'm loving you

w.c. around 12k 🤭 pairing. Namjoon x female!reader (also Jungkook & reader used to be together) genre. Smut. friends to lovers-ish, pwp, angst (bc it wouldn't be me if there wasn't angst lmao), more pwp, AND FLUFF OFC a/n. NSFW MDNI !!! curse words, alcohol mention, sexual content (fingering, unprotected vaginal penetration, oral m&f!receiving, creampie) ENJOY, let me know if I missed anything okay? <3

You couldn’t help but wonder how different things might have been if you had made a different choice that night so many months ago.

“Did you go out tonight?”

“I didn’t, you?”

“Nah, it’s way too cold tonight, lol,” “I want us to go for a drink though”

“Last week was way colder than tonight lmao”, “when?”

“Tomorrow, is that okay?”

“Yeah tomorrow works, I’m free after 5”

“Pick you up at 7 then.”

Seven moons waxed and waned, each night bearing the weight of a silent longing that lingered in the spaces between heartbeats. In the quiet of those months, the echoes of your last conversation with Jungkook reverberated like whispered secrets carried on the wind, haunting yet distant. Despite growing even closer with Namjoon, part of you remained tethered to the memories of what could have been.

You didn’t remember how this started. Until you honestly stopped to think about it, that is.

You met Namjoon through some mutual friends. Every time you went out with them, he seemed to be there. At first, you didn’t think much of him. He was a cool guy, and all your friends were in love with him, but to you, he was just Namjoon.

Your heart was set on someone else, that being one of the main reasons for your way of thinking.

You thought that Jungkook was finally out of your life. After all those months where he kept you hoping that you’d be together, you opened your eyes and understood that being with him was taking you nowhere.

It wasn’t after two years of being on and off with Jungkook that this mess started to happen. But this isn’t about him anymore. It’s what has been happening ever since.

Several months passed, and you had a trip coming up to Barcelona. Not even a day passed when you found out Namjoon and another one of your mutual friends were in the exact same city as you, at the same time.

You were with some of your college friends. You’d been here for about two days, and all your expectations from this week were below average—until that text came to you.

“I want to see you.”

As Namjoon’s text message flashed on your phone screen, a wave of mixed emotions coursed through you. Memories of seeing him at mutual gatherings, his magnetic charisma, and the undeniable chemistry you both shared suddenly flooded your mind. You couldn’t deny the thrill that his message brought. So, you agreed to meet, not really knowing what to expect.

That night in Barcelona, you and Namjoon decided to explore the city’s vibrant nightlife. The streets were alive with the energy of locals and tourists alike, and the possibilities seemed endless. As you walked through the illuminated streets, the conversation flowed effortlessly.

Namjoon turned to you with a playful glint in his eye. “Barcelona sure knows how to stay alive at night, right?”

You nodded, taking in the enchanting atmosphere. “It does, another city that never sleeps.”

That particular night in Barcelona, you and Namjoon didn’t dwell on the complexities of your dynamic. Instead, you focused on the here and now, indulging in the city’s vibrant nightlife. The streets were alive with the pulsating rhythms of music, and the possibilities for adventure seemed endless.

As you hopped from one lively club to another, the music enveloped you, and you both let loose. You danced together, swaying to the intoxicating beats with occasional laughter and shared glances that needed no words. Namjoon’s occasional hand on your waist or his deep voice softly spoken into your ear amidst the music created a sense of electric chemistry.

In the middle of it all, you reached a state of drunken bliss where the world seemed to blur, and nothing else mattered but the man in front of you. The two of you laughed uncontrollably at inside jokes that would be etched in your mind forever.

It was a night of liberation. The beauty of Barcelona’s nightlife and the intoxication of the moment allowed you to escape into a realm of pure joy.

As the night peaked, the connection between you and Namjoon became more intimate. The night transitioned seamlessly from the vibrant energy of the city to the warmth and comfort of Namjoon’s room.

As you stood on the balcony of Namjoon’s room, overlooking the twinkling city lights below, you felt the warmth of his body radiating towards you. You leaned back against the railing, your heart pounding as you looked up at him. He was so close, yet so far away.

Namjoon’s gaze locked onto you, and he could see the desire burning within your eyes. He felt his own heart quicken, his breath hitching in his throat as he moved closer to you. He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

“Namjoon,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle kiss. You melted into him, your arms wrapping around his neck as you deepened the kiss. You could feel his heart pounding in time with your own, bodies pressed together in a dance as old as time.

As you broke apart, gasping for breath, Namjoon trailed his fingers down your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. He could feel the heat radiating off your body, and he knew that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

You nodded, eyes shining with desire. “Yes,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “I want this. I want you.”

Namjoon’s heart skipped a beat at your words. He leaned in again, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch of you for the first time. You couldn’t help but moan softly, your body trembling with desire.

He pulled away from the kiss, his breath coming in short gasps. “Fuck,” he whispered, his voice filled with both awe and desperation.

He guided you back to his bed. You looked up at him through hooded eyes, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. “Please,” you begged in a soft voice. “I need you.”

That was all it took to push Namjoon over the edge. He cupped your face in his hands and kissed you fiercely, pouring every ounce of pent-up desire into the kiss.

His hands moved down to the hem of your shirt, and he lifted it over your head in one swift motion, tossing it aside without a second thought. His gaze roamed your exposed skin hungrily, like a starving man who had just been presented with a feast.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, his voice filled with genuine appreciation as he traced the outline of your bra with his fingertips. “You’ve always been so, so beautiful.”

You found yourselves pausing your hunger for a few minutes, basking in each other’s presence. You ended up leaning into the comfort of Namjoon’s arms. Both halted the intensity of the abrupt contact, with comfortable silences filling the gaps as you both lost yourself in the city sounds playing softly in the background. The dim light from the room cast a warm glow on Namjoon’s face, highlighting his features and making him even more irresistible.

Feeling a sudden rush of boldness, you moved closer to him, your body instinctively seeking his warmth. His eyes met yours, a silent question lingering in them. He pulled you even closer into his embrace, your bodies molding together as if they were two pieces of a puzzle.

His scent enveloped you, a mix of his cologne and something uniquely him. Your heart pounded in your chest as you felt his breath tickling the skin of your neck. His fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, causing a shiver to run down your spine. This was new, yet it felt so right.

With a soft sigh, you let your head fall back, exposing the long line of your neck. Namjoon’s lips found that sensitive skin, tracing a path down to the hollow of your throat. His fingers continued their exploration, now sliding through your thighs.

You shivered at his touch, your body begging for more. “Namjoon,” you whispered, your voice husky with desire.

He looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of lust and tenderness. “Yes, y/n?”

“I want you to fuck me,” you confessed. Feeling bolder this time, you thought it was your turn to take your hands downtown. You dipped your hand into the hollow of his stomach before going down to trail kisses along the waistband of his pants. Namjoon groaned as he realized where this was headed.

Before he could protest, not that he would, you made quick work of undoing his belt to remove both it and his pants. Namjoon helped you undo them, his breath hitching as you wrapped your hand around his length. He was hard and ready, just as you were. Now fully exposed before you, he shifted uncomfortably under your gaze.

Catching onto his hesitation, you reassured him with a smile. “Don’t worry,” you said softly. “I think I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

Namjoon’s eyes softened as he reached out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ve thought about you, too,” he confessed. “You have no idea.”

With a swift motion, you stepped out of your own jeans, too, kicking them aside.

You reached behind yourself to unclasp the bra and let it fall to the floor before pulling Namjoon’s shirt over his head and discarding it as well.

Now, almost completely naked, there you stood before him, your bodies mere inches apart. Namjoon’s hands rested on your hips, pulling you closer. His thumb traced circles on your hip bone, sending waves of pleasure through you.

Namjoon’s breath hitched in his throat. A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips at the reaction you were able to elicit from him.

Time seemed to slow down as I took in the sight before me – this was real; he wanted me just as much as I wanted him now.

You went down on him and took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip before taking him deeper. Namjoon tangled his fingers in your hair, guiding you as you moved up and down on his length. The sight of you on your knees before him, taking him so willingly, was almost too much for him to handle.

“Shit,” he grunted, his hips thrusting forward involuntarily. “I’m gonna come too soon if you keep that up.”

You pulled away with a wicked smile, pressing yourself against Namjoon’s body. He could feel how wet you were even through the fabric of your panties, and he groaned in frustration.

“Why are we still wearing these?” he asked, his voice filled with need as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and pulled them down your legs.

Once you were both naked, Namjoon’s hand trailed downwards until it found its way between your legs. He ran a finger along your folds teasingly before slipping it inside of you.

You moaned softly at the feeling of being stretched by his finger. “I’m sure we can do more than that,” you begged in a needy voice.

Namjoon added a second finger, pumping them in and out of you at a steady pace. He curled his fingers upwards, searching for that sweet spot deep inside of you.

“God,” he groaned as he felt your walls clench around his fingers. “You’re so fucking tight.”

He continued to work his fingers inside of you until he felt your body start to shake with the first layer of your orgasm. Your back arched off the bed, and a loud moan escaped from your lips as pleasure made your body tremble.

Namjoon removed his fingers from your dripping wet core and brought them up to his mouth, sucking on them eagerly as he tasted your essence.

“You taste so good,” he said, his voice filled with genuine appreciation before moving downwards until he was positioned between your legs.

He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your inner thigh before trailing a path of kisses up toward your throbbing center. His tongue flicked out and ran along your folds teasingly before zeroing in on your clit.

You gasped at the sensation of Namjoon’s warm tongue against your sensitive bud. He circled it slowly at first, the pressure increasing with every stroke. The combination of his skilled tongue and the way his hands were gripping the flesh of your thighs was driving you absolutely wild.

“Namjoon, stop,” you moaned, the sound of his name on your lips like a prayer. “I’m gonna cum again,”

Namjoon hummed against you in response, sending vibrations coursing through your body that pushed you right to the edge. His tongue moved faster and more insistently against your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy.

With one final flick of his tongue, you shattered into a million pieces beneath him. Your body convulsed with pleasure as wave after wave of bliss washed over you.

Namjoon lapped up every drop of your release, not wanting to miss a single drop of you. Once you had come down from your high, he climbed back up the bed and pulled you into his arms.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent as you basked in the afterglow of your passion. “You’re really good at that,” you said softly.

Namjoon pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “You taste amazing. I couldn’t help myself,” he replied, his voice filled with genuine affection. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

You looked up at him with a smile and brushed a strand of hair away from his face. There was so much more that you wanted to say, but words were unnecessary at that moment.

Instead, you let your actions speak for themselves as you pulled Namjoon closer and kissed him deeply. The taste of yourself on his lips only served to fuel the fire that was still burning between you.

As the kiss deepened, Namjoon’s hand trailed downwards once again until it found its way between your legs. He could feel how wet you still were, and a surge of desire shot through him like electricity.

He positioned himself at your entrance and looked into your eyes for confirmation before slowly pushing inside of you. You moaned softly at the feeling of being stretched around him once again, nails digging into his shoulders as he filled every inch of you.

Namjoon began to move slowly at first, savoring every sensation as he thrust in and out of your dripping wet core. With each movement, he felt himself getting lost in an ocean that only the two of you could create together.

The rhythm quickly escalated. Your hips bucked against him, meeting each thrust with one of your own. The room was filled with the sounds of the bed creaking beneath you, skin slapping against skin, and moans mingling with whispers. It felt like time had ceased to exist as the world narrowed down to just the two of you, connected in every possible way.

The pace quickened as your bodies moved in perfect sync, building towards a shared climax that was just within reach. Namjoon’s thrusts became more urgent and desperate, like a man on the edge of sanity who was about to lose himself completely.

You could feel your walls clenching around him as an overwhelming sense of pleasure began to build deep within your core. “Namjoon,” you moaned, his name like a prayer on your lips. “I’m cu-”

With one final thrust, you both went hurtling over the edge together; your bodies shuddered and shook with the force of your release.

Eventually, the bliss receded, and you found yourselves once again floating back down to reality. Namjoon collapsed beside you and pulled you into his arms, holding onto you tightly as he tried to catch his breath.

“That was...” he trailed off, searching for the right words to describe what had just happened between you.

“Really fucking hot,” you supplied with a smile.

Hours after being together, you and Namjoon shared a cozy meal on his hotel room balcony, savoring Barcelona’s cuisine. With the city’s magic still lingering in the air, you both settled into a deep conversation about your shared passion for music.

As the minutes passed, you found yourselves planning to attend several concerts together in the coming weeks and months. The anticipation of sharing those experiences added another layer of intimacy to your thing.

You both lay intertwined in each other’s arms, cuddled in the dimly lit room. Fingers traced gentle patterns on each other’s skin, and you shared soft kisses that spoke volumes in their tenderness. That night was filled with smooth, whispered conversations, with playful moments of playing with each other’s hair.

Your time with Namjoon had an electric undercurrent that couldn’t be ignored. While not a romantic undertone, it was clear that there was a magnetic attraction between you two. You shared passionate moments, intimate conversations, and nights filled with desire that went beyond being ‘just friends.’

As you returned home, you both acknowledged the nature of your connection. A “friends with benefits” arrangement that allowed you to explore your feelings without the pressure of defining a full-blown relationship. The connection was intense, yet you hesitated to leap into something more serious.

You’d meet up when schedules allowed, enjoying each other’s company in and out of the bedroom. Your feelings for Namjoon were confusing, and you knew he felt the same way, so neither of you was ready to put a label on it.

As time passed, the relationship continued to evolve. It was a constant push and pull, a dance of desire and restraint. You shared everything with him, but the commitment to a traditional relationship still felt elusive.

Your life continued to grow more complex with each passing day. Not only were you navigating this with Namjoon and what you started doing after Barcelona, but you also had a history with Jungkook, and there already was a connection between these two men.

Jungkook, your on-again, off-again for the past two years, had been a source of both love and, of course, heartache in your life. It was a tumultuous relationship, filled with moments of intense connection followed by periods of emotional distance. He kept you dancing around the idea of commitment, yet he seemed reluctant to fully embrace it.

What made the situation even more difficult was the fact that Jungkook and Namjoon were very close friends. Your social circles had overlapped, and you couldn’t help but wonder if Jungkook had any inkling of your growing connection with Namjoon.

As you delved into the ‘benefits’ dynamic with Namjoon, it added a layer of secrecy to your life.

Your feelings for Jungkook have always been intense and genuine. He was the one you had envisioned a future with, and you longed for a committed, loving relationship. But Jungkook’s reluctance to settle down left you in a state of constant disappointment. He wanted the freedom to explore other options, yet he always kept you within arm’s reach, knowing he could turn to you whenever he pleased.

This cycle was taking a toll on you, causing not only the never-ending heartbreak but also a growing sense of frustration and exhaustion. It was clear to everyone, including your mutual friends, that you were deeply in love with Jungkook, but they also saw the toll it was taking on your well-being.

Namjoon, always so observant and compassionate, saw a glimmer of an opportunity. He understood the depths of your affection for Jungkook and sensed your growing disillusionment. He didn’t plan to interfere but couldn’t help but be drawn to your unique energy and the connection you two shared.

The situation was not of your making. Both Jungkook and Namjoon actively sought you out, and you, despite your love for Jungkook, found it challenging to resist the magnetic pull of your connection with Namjoon.

Jimin’s birthday was a pivotal moment. At that time, you and Jungkook had been mad at each other, tensions simmering beneath the surface. When you arrived at the bar to celebrate, you greeted everyone but Jungkook. The air was thick with unspoken words, and the distance between you was palpable.

Feeling the need for a moment of respite, you slipped away for a cigarette break, seeking solace in the night’s breeze. During this break, you found Taehyung, one of your close friends, who helped you calm down for the night.

Eventually, the group decided to move to another bar, and the atmosphere lightened as everyone indulged in the evening. The drinks flowed, and laughter filled the air. All was good again.

As the night drew to a close, Namjoon kindly offered to drive everyone home in his car. The group piled in, and it was cramped, to say the least. Amid the chaos, you found yourself sitting in Jungkook’s lap, something that was not your choice.

It was during this car ride that Jungkook’s emotional side emerged, fueled by alcohol. He revealed that he was leaving for another country for six months, a fact he had kept hidden from you. You were blindsided by this news and felt a surge of anger and frustration. How could he not have shared this with you before?

Throughout the evening, Namjoon had been watching you closely. He observed how you barely interacted with Jungkook since your arrival and acknowledged the underlying tension. However, he couldn’t deny the surge of anger he felt when you ended up in Jungkook’s lap, even if it was out of necessity.

In the aftermath of Jimin’s birthday, Jungkook planned a farewell dinner for the group on the following Friday. The dinner was heartwarming, even in those conditions. Afterward, you all decided to go for drinks, further complicating everything.

The bar you hit up after dinner turned into a bit of a downer for you. While Jungkook was busy having a blast with everyone else, he seemed to be totally ignoring you. And then, to top it off, he started cozying up to his best friend on the dance floor – talk about a buzzkill. You tried to play it cool, but deep down, it was eating you up inside. Your head was saying, I won’t get jealous, I won’t get jealous, but he kept laughing with her and holding her close to him.

You tried to distract yourself by keeping yourself glued to Taehyung and Jimin, but it was tough to keep up with their conversation when your mind was in a whirl. Chiming in occasionally was getting more complicated, so you let a bitter laugh at the ceiling, excusing yourself to go to the bathroom for a bit, asking your friends to keep your drink safe. Staring at yourself in the mirror, trying to get rid of your pathetic, sad eyes, you felt like you were stuck in some cheesy rom-com.

You couldn’t bear yourself anymore. You knew it wasn’t the girl’s fault, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of what if something was happening between them. You began spiraling, knowing you had to leave the place.

At the risk of seeing Jungkook’s silhouette on your way back to the table, you decided it was time to make a quick exit. Grabbing your purse, you muttered to your friends, “I’ll be right back,” under the pretense of needing some air, and dashed off before anyone could stop you.

Namjoon saw the whole picture. He was aware of your every move and how quick you left the bar. He worried at the thought of your utter goodbye for the night.

In the past days leading up to tonight, Namjoon found himself wrestling with conflicting emotions. On one hand, he longed to be closer to you, to break through the walls you had built around your heart. Yet, on the other hand, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt at the thought of finding happiness in Jungkook’s absence.

When you stepped outside, the weight of the night’s events hit you like a ton of bricks. You stood there on the sidewalk, feeling lost and overwhelmed. You instantly knew it was too much to actually leave like that. Pulling out your lighter and a cigarette, you took a moment to gather your thoughts. It was one of those times when you wished to call your mom and ask her, “can you pick me up?” but I guess ‘we’re too old for that.’ The air around you wasn’t even cold, but everything felt unbearably heavy.

As you stood there, lost in your thoughts, hard to believe that the asshole you love is having the time of his life. Good for him. You kept rambling. Are you really that detestable? How could he be having the time of his life while you were left feeling so insignificant? It stung to realize that he hadn’t even bothered to tell you about his plans to go for half a year. It was like a slap in the face, a painful reminder of how little you seemed to matter to him.

And the fucking icing on the cake is that tonight, you don’t even exist in his world.

As you were spiraling into a whirlwind of more negative emotions, your phone suddenly rang, jolting you out of your thoughts. Glancing at the screen, you saw ‘Joonie’ flashing back at you. With a sigh, you extinguished your cigarette and answered the call.

“Hello?” you greeted, your voice tinged with a hint of frustration.

From the background noise, you could tell that Namjoon was evidently still at the bar. “Care to tell me why you left?” he asked, his tone laced with concern.

You couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh. “I didn’t leave. I’m just outside having a chat with my cig,” you replied sarcastically.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line before Namjoon spoke again. “And you didn’t think to include me? I’ve been meaning to talk to that guy,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

As Namjoon’s voice filled your ears, a mixture of relief and surprise washed over you. You hadn’t expected him to call, let alone humor you in your self-imposed exile outside the bar.

“I didn’t realize you were such good friends with cigarettes,” you replied, a hint of amusement creeping into your voice despite the heaviness of the situation.

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before Namjoon chuckled softly. “Well, you know me. Always looking to fraternize,” he quipped, his tone warm and lighthearted.

You couldn’t help but smile at his attempt to lighten the mood, grateful for his presence even from a distance. “Thanks for calling Joonie,” you said, the affectionate nickname slipping from your lips without a second thought.

“Anytime,” Namjoon replied, his voice softening with sincerity. “But jokes aside, are you okay?”

The concern in Namjoon’s voice tugged at your heartstrings, reminding you once again of the depth of his care for you. “I’ll be fine,” you reassured him, although the words felt hollow even to your own ears.

There was another moment of silence, punctuated only by the distant strains of music drifting from the bar. “Do you want me to come out there?” Namjoon asked, his voice laced with anxiety.

As much as you wanted to say yes, to feel the comfort of Namjoon’s presence beside you, you couldn’t bring yourself to burden him with your own shit. “No, it’s okay,” you replied, forcing a note of conviction into your voice. “I just needed some air.”

Namjoon didn’t press the issue. He knew what was happening and understood the meaning of your words. Instead, he simply said, “Alright, but get back inside already. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Even during your turmoil, Namjoon was there for you. “Okaaaaayyyy dad,” you replied, full of sarcasm.

Namjoon laughed softly, his voice carrying a warmth that eased the ache in your chest. “I’ll be here whenever you’re ready to come back in.”

As you made your way back inside the bar to the table where Jimin and Taehyung were seated, their expressions were a mixture of sympathy and awareness. “Are you okay?” Jimin asked, his voice soft but filled with genuine worry.

You forced a smile, attempting to mask the turmoil raging inside you. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied, taking your long-forgotten and watered-down drink in one go, waving your hand dismissively. But they could see through the facade, sensing the underlying chaos that threatened to consume you.

Without a word, Namjoon approached the table. He placed his hand at the small of your back, offering silent support and understanding. In that moment, you felt grateful for his unwavering presence amidst your own drama.

You leaned against Namjoon’s torso and rubbed his chest before excusing yourself from the table once more. This time, however, you didn’t head for the exit. Instead, you made your way to the bar to order a considerable amount of drinks, already determined to stop feeling this level of shitty.

As you stood at the bar, ordering your drinks, you couldn’t shake the unease lingering within you. The noise of the crowded bar seemed to fade into the background as you wrestled with your thoughts, your mind consumed by the events of the evening.

On the other hand, Namjoon was careful to avoid the watchful eyes of your friends, who were scattered throughout the crowded bar. He trailed after you with a sense of purpose, his steps deliberate yet discreet. When he saw you at the bar, he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around your waist from behind.

At that moment, Namjoon’s heart swelled. Part of him wanted to console you for your evident emotional state. But another part couldn’t deny the selfish desire to hold you close, to revel in the warmth of your presence, even as you struggled with your own demons.

Leaning in, Namjoon gently kissed your right cheek, a silent offering of reassurance and understanding. To his relief, you sighed softly, your eyes closing as you leaned into his embrace, resting your head against his shoulder without a second thought.

“You look way too hot tonight to be feeling like this,” he whispered softly, his words a tender acknowledgment of your heartache. Despite the seriousness of the situation, his tone showed a hint of playful sincerity.

A voice interrupted the moment, cutting through the noise like a knife. Neither of you noticed Jungkook’s approach until it was too late. Drunk and unsteady on his feet, Jungkook stumbled over to the bar, his eyes widening in disbelief as he caught sight of the two of you together.

"Y/N?" The voice was slurred, unmistakably Jungkook’s. You tensed in Namjoon’s arms, your heart pounding in your chest as you turned to see Jungkook standing a few feet away, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief.

“Jungkook,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the tumult of emotions swirling inside you.

Namjoon tensed beside you, his grip on your waist tightening almost imperceptibly, his expression unreadable.

“Well, well, well, look what we have here,” Jungkook slurred, his words dripping with sarcasm as he stared at you and Namjoon. “Didn’t know you were into my friends, Y/N. Guess you’ll take anyone who gives an ounce of attention, huh?”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, leaving you momentarily speechless as you recoiled from the unexpected attack. Namjoon, however, was quick to react, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive as he stepped forward to confront Jungkook.

“Hey, that’s enough, man,” Namjoon said firmly, his voice cutting through the air as he placed himself between you and Jungkook.

You felt a pang of regret at what you had inadvertently caused, knowing that Jungkook had every right to feel hurt by seeing you with his friend.

“Y/N... and Namjoon,” Jungkook slurred, his words laced with a hint of mockery. “I never would’ve guessed.”

Namjoon’s jaw clenched in frustration. “Come on, man, you’re drunk, and you’re out of line.” Jungkook scoffed, flickering between you and Namjoon with a mixture of disbelief and anger. “Out of line?” he echoed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. I’m just stating the obvious, aren’t I, Y/N?”

Namjoon placed a calming hand on his shoulder, his touch reassuringly. “Let’s not make a scene,” he said quietly, warning Jungkook. “You’re not yourself right now. We’ll talk about this later.”

For a moment, Jungkook seemed to waver, his drunken facade faltering. But then, with a bitter laugh, he turned and stumbled away.

Turning back to you with a look of concern. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of distress.

You nodded, offering him a shaky smile as you tried to push aside the hurtful words that lingered in the air. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Let’s just get out of here, please.”

The next day dawned with a sense of unease, the previous night’s events still fresh in your mind. As you woke to the harsh light of day filtering through your curtains, you couldn’t shake the discomfort that settled over you like a heavy blanket.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you checked your phone to find a message from Jungkook, his words a stark reminder of the events that had unfolded the night before. “Hey, did you come to the bar last night?” he wrote, his tone casual as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. “I can’t remember a thing, lmao.”

On one hand, his casual tone and obliviousness to the events of the previous night grated on your nerves, but on the other hand, there was a sense of relief knowing that he seemed unaware of the tension that had hung between you, at least for now.

With a heavy sigh, you composed a response, your fingers tapping out a brief reply. “Yeah, I was there,” you wrote, your words tinged with a hint of bitterness you couldn’t shake. “What a night, huh? I’m glad you had fun.”

Meanwhile, on Namjoon’s end, the morning brought a sense of apprehension as he grappled with the aftermath of the confrontation with Jungkook. Despite his best efforts to put on a brave front, he couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt that gnawed at him from within.

Throughout the day, he debated whether or not to touch the subject with Jungkook. Still, his resolve faltered each time he tried to gather the courage. How could he confront his friend about his behavior without risking losing you?

As the hours passed, it became increasingly clear that Jungkook had no recollection of the events that had transpired the night before. His mind was fogged by the haze of alcohol, and he seemed oblivious to your exchange, leaving Namjoon at a loss for how to proceed.

After the farewell dinner passed, Namjoon became aware of your persistent efforts to see Jungkook one last time before his departure. He observed as you reached out to Jungkook, only to be met with excuses. Jungkook definitely didn’t want to make the effort to see you.

In the middle of the week, all the guys went out to grab some food; Namjoon sat in the backseat of the car alongside Jungkook, Jimin in the passenger seat, and Taehyung at the wheel. He noticed Jungkook’s phone light up with your name on the screen. It was already dark outside, so the glow from the phone illuminated Jungkook’s face, and Namjoon clearly saw your name on the screen.

It wasn’t a silent ride, so Namjoon didn’t know how the hell he could hear your voice so well as you spoke to Jungkook. Your desperation was palpable, each word carrying the weight of your emotions as you questioned Jungkook about what he had been up to and if he hadn’t gotten the chance to see any of your texts. Namjoon felt a pang of sympathy as he listened, knowing all too well the pain you were feeling.

Jungkook’s response was vague, and his attitude spoke volumes during the conversation.

It was a moment of rawness, the culmination of all your emotions laid bare in a single question. “Can’t you see I was in love with you?” As you spoke, your voice trembled with emotion, the words hanging heavy in the air. “I never asked you for anything,” you continued, your tone tinged with desperation. “nothing, Jungkook, not for you to move in with me or marry me; I just wanted to be with you.” Each word was punctuated by the ache of unfulfilled longing, a plea for understanding in the face of uncertainty. “I don’t get why we can’t be together,” you confessed, the weight of your heartache evident in your voice.

As Namjoon listened to your heartfelt plea, his heart sank with the weight of your words. He felt the tension in the air, a palpable reminder of the turmoil brewing beneath the surface. Unsure of what to do, he found himself fidgeting with his phone, his fingers tracing aimless patterns on the screen. He glanced briefly at Jungkook, whose expression remained unreadable, before clearing his throat in an attempt to dispel the heavy silence that hung over them. “Should we try that new restaurant that just opened up downtown?” Namjoon suggested his voice as carefully neutral as possible. He knew that your words had struck a chord in his friend.

As Jungkook struggled to find the right way to respond to your words, his mind raced with conflicting emotions. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. His silence hanging heavy in the air.

Sensing his hesitation, you felt a surge of tears welling up inside. Without waiting for him to finally say something, you abruptly ended the call, your actions driven more by the need to release your pent-up emotions than a desire to hear Jungkook’s explanation. The line went silent, leaving Jungkook alone with his thoughts, grappling with the weight of your words and his own inability to answer.

Jungkook’s feelings for you remained ambiguous. It was evident that there was a deep connection between you and him. He knew he loved the attention you gave him without fully understanding your feelings. To be completely honest, you caught him off guard tonight.

He never expected your affection to run so deeply, and the words you just revealed to him left him feeling surprised and perhaps a bit overwhelmed. Jungkook may have underestimated the extent of your emotions and failed to recognize the depth of what he had with you until now.

Namjoon picked you up at the hour he promised. He didn’t waste time and started asking you about what you had been up to. He said he wanted to know how you liked the last music festival you went to, how work had been, and barely five minutes had passed.

“So, where do you want to go?” “I was thinking we could go to one of the bars near my place; what do you think?”

“Sure, I haven’t gone out at all lately”, “did you have one in mind?”

“Wait, tell me first, did you already have dinner?”

You shook your head.

“Good because I haven’t either.” What do you say if we go home and have dinner instead?”

“I’d like that”, “what about some takeout?”

On your way to get food and to his house, he didn’t stop talking for the whole ride; he kept asking all these things about you. And it’s not like you’ve not seen this side of him, but it felt nice that someone was interested enough to ask about your life lately.

The conversation flowed effortlessly as you sat on his bed, eating and watching a movie. You talked about books and films and even asked if you’d considered having children someday. The atmosphere between you was electric, as always, and Namjoon couldn’t help but be swept up in it.

Getting your containers out of the way, he gently hugged you closer, feeling the warmth of your body against his. Your heart raced at his touch, you could never deny the connection between you. “Aren’t you cold?” He began to kiss your neck, sending shivers down your spine as his lips explored your sensitive skin.

The movie played in the background, but you barely noticed as Namjoon pressed you closer, his body molding against yours. “Not anymore,” and then he kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth as his hands roamed your body.

The heat between you was undeniable as Namjoon lifted you onto his lap, your legs straddling him as he rutted into you. You moaned with pleasure, your bodies moving in a rhythm that felt both new and familiar.

Your hands tangled in his hair as you kissed him passionately, lost in the moment. Namjoon’s hands roamed over your body, tracing every curve and leaving a fire trail in their wake. The air around you was thick with desire as you both gave in to the electricity that pulsed between you.

His lips moved from your mouth to your neck, nibbling and sucking on the sensitive skin, marking you as his. Each touch sent jolts of pleasure straight to your core, causing your breath to hitch and your body to arch against him.

“Namjoon,” you moaned his name softly, the sound music to his ears. He lifted you effortlessly, laying you down on the bed so that he could hover above you. His eyes held a mixture of hunger and adoration as he took in the sight before him.

“You’re so hot,” he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. You felt a blush creep onto your cheeks at his words, but before you could respond, his lips were on yours again.

The kiss was deep and passionate, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume everything in its path. Namjoon’s hands explored every inch of your body, leaving no skin untouched. The soft fabric of your clothes became an obstacle that needed to be removed. With nimble fingers, he began undressing you.

When all barriers were gone, he took a moment to admire the sight before him - your naked body spread out beneath him like it was the first time his eyes ever saw you. You squirmed under his gaze. 

Get a grip. This is not the first time this has happened.

He leaned down and captured one of your nipples between his lips while his hand massaged the other breast. The sensation was overwhelming as pleasure coursed through every nerve ending in your body.

Your back arched as you moaned his name loudly into the room. Namjoon continued to lavish attention on your breasts, alternating between gentle sucking and teasing flicks of his tongue.

His lips traveled a path of hot kisses down your stomach, leaving a fire trail in their wake. He peppered your skin with soft bites and licks as he made his way to the apex of your thighs.

The anticipation built within you as you felt his warm breath against your core. When his tongue finally made contact with your sensitive bud, a moan ripped from your throat. It was intense, almost too much to handle, as he expertly swirled his tongue around your clit.

Your hips bucked involuntarily as waves of ecstasy crashed over you like an earthquake. Namjoon held onto your thighs, keeping you in place as he continued to devour you with his mouth. His hands were firm yet gentle as they held onto you, grounding you in the sea of pleasure that threatened to sweep you away.

As the intensity grew, so did the need for more. You tugged at Namjoon’s hair, urging him to come up to kiss you. He complied, moving up your body until his lips met yours once again.

You flipped him over so that now you were straddling him again. Your hands roamed over his muscular chest and abdomen before trailing lower to remove his pants.

The familiar sight before you took your breath away - Namjoon completely naked and at your mercy. His length stood proudly at your attention, begging for your touch. You wrapped one hand around him firmly while using the other to tease his balls.

The anticipation built within him as he felt your warm breath against his neck. You peppered his skin with soft bites and kisses as you made your way to the apex of his thighs.

When you finally took him in your mouth, all coherent thought fled from Namjoon’s mind. The sensation was indescribable - a mixture of wet heat and suction that threatened to push him over the edge before he even had a chance to enjoy it fully.

Your tongue swirled around the tip of his length. At the same time, you maintained eye contact with him, the sight alone nearly enough to send him hurling into oblivion.

As if reading his mind, you hollowed out your cheeks and took him in deeper, maintaining eye contact the entire time. Namjoon’s hips bucked involuntarily as pleasure surged through every fiber of his being.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned loudly, the sound reverberating throughout the room. Encouraged by his reaction, you continued to work him with your mouth, alternating between long strokes and teasing flicks of your tongue.

Namjoon’s hands found their way into your hair, holding onto you for dear life as he rode out the electric charges coursing through his veins. The feeling was almost too much to bear, in the best possible way.

He could feel the pressure building within him as he neared the point of no return. With one final thrust of his hips and a low groan that quickly turned into a string of curses, Namjoon came undone.

His release flooded your mouth in hot spurts, the taste always so addictive. You swallowed him down eagerly. When he finally finished, and his body went limp with pleasure, you released him from your mouth.

Namjoon’s head fell back against the pillow and a groan escaped his lips. The sound was like music to your ears as it signaled that you drove him just as wild as he was driving you.

You leaned forward and captured one of his nipples between your lips, sucking gently. Namjoon’s hands found their way to your hips, holding you in place as he thrust upwards, seeking more friction, not giving room to his own overstimulation.

The combined sensations were overwhelming as pleasure surged through every fiber of your being. You continued to grind slowly, relishing in the way his breath hitched and his body reacted to your touch.

“Fuck, I need to be inside,” Namjoon groaned, his voice filled with desperation. The words sent a surge of heat straight to your core as you felt the wetness between your thighs increase.

You positioned yourself over him, lining him up with your entrance before slowly sinking down onto his length. You never got used to the exquisite feeling of fullness he gave you when he filled you completely, stretching you in all the right ways.

Namjoon’s hands gripped onto your hips tightly as you began to move, riding him at a pace that left both of you breathless. His eyes never left yours as he watched all of your emotions play out on your face.

The sounds of skin slapping were intoxicating. Every movement brought you closer and closer to the edge until you finally felt yourself teetering on the edge.

“I’m coming,” you managed to gasp out between moans. Namjoon nodded in understanding, his own release rapidly approaching. He reached between your bodies and began rubbing circles on your clit, pushing you over the edge.

Stars exploded behind your eyelids as a powerful orgasm crashed over you. You clamped down on Namjoon’s length as pleasure pulsed through every nerve ending in your body.

The sight was enough to send Namjoon rushing into his own orgasm. With a loud groan, he spilled himself inside of you, filling you up and leaving you all warm and pliant.

He collapsed beside you, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. You rested your head against him, your thoughts suddenly swirling with confusion and desire.

Another movie on TV played in the background, but once again, it went unnoticed as Namjoon pressed soft kisses against your forehead.

As you lay in Namjoon’s chest, your body still warm from his touch, you began questioning your decisions. The weight of the moment pressed against your chest as you listened to the rhythm of his heart. It was a stark reminder that you were here with him, tangled in the sheets, while Jungkook remained out of reach.

It was the pain of missing someone so unattainable.

“I’m so glad we talked,” he playfully whispered against your skin. You looked up at him, and Namjoon sensed the shift in your demeanor. He propped himself up on one elbow, his gaze tracing over the contours of your face. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, concern lacing his voice.

You turned your head to meet his gaze and offered a small smile. “Yeah,” you replied, though uncertainty lingered in your words. “Just...thinking.”

He reached out a hand to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering against the curve of your jaw. Namjoon’s dark eyes held an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. “About what?” he inquired.

You hesitated for a moment before deciding to be honest with him. After all, he had been nothing but open and sincere with you since your dynamic began to form. “Suddenly, I just started wondering...what am I doing” you admitted, searching for the right words to explain yourself.

Namjoon’s expression softened as he took in your words, understanding blooming across his features. He shifted closer to you, closing the remaining distance between your bodies and cupping your face in his hands. “You’re here doing this with me because we both want this,” he said firmly yet gently.

His thumb traced circles along your cheekbone as he continued speaking. “I know it’s complicated,” Namjoon acknowledged, his voice filled with empathy. “But we've built something mind-blowing—we can’t deny that.”

Your heart swelled at his words. Namjoon saw past the physical desire, recognizing the emotional entanglement that had brought you to this moment.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your forehead in a tender gesture. “I don’t want you to overthink this,” Namjoon murmured. “Just let yourself feel, and we’ll figure it out somewhere along the way.”

His words resonated with you, easing the whirlwind of thoughts spinning through your mind. In this quiet and intimate moment, Namjoon had provided the reassurance and grounding that you needed.

You wrapped your arms around him, in awe of what he just told you. His body melded with yours, offering warmth and solace in a way that no one else had. Here, in the sanctuary of his arms, you allowed yourself to surrender to his intoxicating hugs.

The weight of uncertainty began to lift as passion replaced doubt. Namjoon’s touch ignited a fire within you—one that burned away insecurities and hesitations.

With a newfound sense of clarity, you tilted your head up to capture his lips with yours in a searing kiss. It was a silent admittance—a shared understanding.

Namjoon responded eagerly, his lips moving hungrily against yours as desire flared between you. The air grew thick with anticipation as the heat intensified, driving all rational thought from your mind.

In this moment—this raw and unfiltered desire—you were able to set aside the complexities of love and longing. It was just the two of you, bodies entwined.

You ground your hips against him, aching for more of his touch. The friction between you was intoxicating, and the hunger in Namjoon’s eyes mirrored your own.

With one hand gripping your waist, he used the other to trace a path down your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

Needing to feel more of him, you tugged at his torso, silently urging him to get closer. Namjoon obliged.

Unable to resist any longer, you leaned in to press a kiss against his collarbone. Slowly, you worked your way across his chest, nipping and sucking at his skin along the way. Each moan that escaped from Namjoon’s lips only spurred you on.

Namjoon’s hands roamed over your body, creating an inferno wherever they touched. Desire pooled low in your stomach as his fingers traced patterns on your skin, igniting a fire that hadn’t been extinguished earlier.

Unable to wait longer, you straddled him again, aligning your bodies so perfectly that it felt like coming home. The heat radiating from his hard length made you gasp in anticipation; you needed him desperately once again.

Namjoon’s hands found their way to the small of your back as he pulled you impossibly closer until there was no space left between. Every ridge and plane of your bodies met and melded together as if they were always meant to be this way.

Your eyes locked in before he finally entered you, inch by glorious inch. A moan escaped both your lips at this new sensation; it hasn't felt like this before. It was clear that brand new emotion was being assimilated in your bodies.

As Namjoon began moving inside you with slow yet deliberate thrusts that had you seeing stars with each delicious stroke, your lips found each other once again. The kiss was a perfect blend of passion and desire that left you both gasping for breath.

Your nails dug into his shoulders as you clung to him for dear life, your body rocked by the force of his movements. Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, the intensity building with every passing second.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Namjoon groaned against your lips, his voice laced with a rawness that sent shivers down your spine. It was all you could do to hold on as you quivered; there wasn’t even a point in counting how many times he’s made you cum tonight.

You moved together in perfect sync, lost in a world where only your bodies and the overwhelming need for one another existed in this room. Time ceased to have any meaning as you chased your releases.

When it finally hit— that earth-shattering peak that left you gasping for air— it was as if everything fell into place. At that moment, there were no doubts or uncertainties; it was just you and Namjoon and the undeniable infatuation you shared.

As the world slowly came back into focus and your breathing returned to normal, you rested your forehead against Namjoon’s, staring deep into his eyes. You didn’t need words to convey what you were both thinking; this had just been the most incredible sex any of you have had since you started seeing each other.

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow in the room. Namjoon stirred beside you, his sleepy gaze meeting yours. You exchanged a knowing look, but the weight of unspoken questions hung in the air.

As you both got dressed and prepared to leave, the atmosphere between you grew slightly tense. The intimacy you had shared was undeniable, but the implications were yet to be understood. You couldn’t ignore the lingering question of whether this was still a momentary escape for you or something that blossomed out last night.

As Namjoon drove you home, the usual comfortable conversation flowed between you, easing some of the tension that had built up within you. His presence was a source of familiarity and reassurance, and you couldn’t help but wonder what exactly the dynamic between the two of you was turning into.

You had always considered Namjoon a nice guy, someone you could rely on, someone who took on the role to care of you in every way. Lately, things have taken a more intimate turn, blurring the lines between friendship and something more. The physical encounter you had just shared added a layer of complexity to your relationship, leaving you with whole lot of questions.

As he pulled up in front of your house, you turned to face him, contemplating your next move. You appreciated him taking you home, but you wanted to retreat to the familiarity of your own space as soon as possible, where you could process the events of the past night.

As you stepped out of the car, you thanked Namjoon once again for everything. The unresolved tension hung in the air, unspoken words and uncharted territory lingering between you. It was clear that there was more to explore, but you also recognized the importance of introspection in this situation.

Walking away from the car, you couldn’t help but wonder what the future held for you and Namjoon. Would you continue to explore this newfound connection, or would you both retreat back to the safety of being just an acquaintance, brushing off the intensity of the previous night as a momentary lapse?

As you entered your home, uncertainty weighed on your mind, and the echoes of the night still resonated within you. One thing was sure, though—this unexpected encounter had left a strong mark, forcing you to confront your fears.

As you continued to navigate your emotions, you couldn’t help but wonder. Would you eventually find the clarity? Or were you destined to be caught in this eternal struggle between the familiar but tumultuous past and the electrifying but uncertain present?

I don’t even know what I’m getting myself into.

A week later, as the evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of pink and orange across the sky, you found yourself lost in thought. It had been weeks since Jungkook had finally come back and texted you, so fate had a way of bringing you back together when you least expected it.

It started innocently enough. You were on your way to meet a few friends for dinner when you spotted him across the street. The sight of Jungkook after all this time sent a jolt of electricity through your veins, stirring emotions you had tried so hard to bury.

Caught off guard, you hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. Should you approach him and acknowledge his presence, or should you pretend not to see him and continue on your way?

Before you could decide, Jungkook turned and locked eyes with you. Time seemed to stand still as you stared at each other, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension.

Taking a deep breath, you summoned some courage you didn’t know you still had. “Jungkook,” you called out softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Facing you, a mixture of surprise and uncertainty flickering in his eyes. “Y/N,” he replied, his voice equally soft.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of the past hanging heavy between you.

“I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” Jungkook finally broke the silence, his tone tinged with a hint of sadness.

“I could say the same,” you replied, countless emotions swirling inside you.

There was a pause as you both searched for the right words, the distance between you feeling both vast and infinitesimal.

“How have you been?” Jungkook asked, his voice filled with genuine curiosity.

You shrugged, unsure of how to answer. “I’ve been... okay,” you replied hesitantly. “And you?”

Jungkook nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I’ve been keeping busy,” he said cryptically.

More silence followed as you both struggled to find common ground, the awkwardness of the situation palpable.

“I should get going,” you finally said, breaking the tension. “It was... nice seeing you, Jungkook.”

He nodded, unable to meet your gaze. “Yeah, you too,” he replied softly.

Just as you turned to leave, Jungkook found himself unable to resist the urge to speak up. “Wait,” he called out, voice barely above a whisper.

You turned back to face him, curiosity flickering in your eyes. “yes?” you asked, your tone gentle.

He hesitated for a moment, the words catching in his throat. “Can we get together and talk sometime?” Jungkook finally asked, his voice trembling slightly.

Your expression softened. “About what?” you replied, your voice barely audible over the city’s din.

It was quiet for a minute. “Forget it,” Jungkook said quickly, his smile faltering. “It’s nothing.”

But you couldn’t let it go. “No, Jungkook,” you insisted, stepping closer to him. “What do you need to talk about?”

For a moment, Jungkook seemed taken aback by your question, his eyes widening in surprise. And then, with a slight smile, he stepped closer to you.

He cleared his throat, leaning in slightly as if sharing a secret. “I mean,” he started, his voice barely above a whisper as though he was afraid of the words themselves. He paused, taking a moment to collect his thoughts before continuing. “It’s not like I need to, but...”

You listened intently, the gravity of Jungkook’s words sinking in. It was as if he was voicing the thoughts swirling in your mind, the unspoken desires and lingering emotions that you had both been grappling with for so long.

“We’ve always made it complicated, I know,” Jungkook continued, his eyes searching yours for understanding. “But I can’t help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—there’s a chance for us to figure out what we had.”

For a moment, you were both suspended in time; your shared moments and potential futures flashed through your eyes. Jungkook’s question had stirred something within you, a complicated mix of nostalgia, longing, and confusion. The echoes of your past relationship with him were interwoven with the exciting and passionate dynamic you had recently discovered with Namjoon. You knew you had to make a decision, not only for yourself but also for them.

As you looked into Jungkook’s hopeful eyes, you felt deep regret, not for the moments you had shared, but for the ones that never were and would never be. You realized you had been clinging to the hope that may never come. You knew in your heart that it was time to let go and move forward.

With a deep breath, you broke the silence. ‘Jungkook,’ you began, your voice steady, ‘I think it’s best if we don’t…’ Your words trailed off, but you hoped your message was clear.

Lost in your thoughts, you continued to meet your friends, the weight of shutting out someone who hurt you in the past, heavy on your shoulders. As you sat down to dinner, the events of the evening played over and over in your mind, leaving you drained of emotion.

Later that evening, after that particularly confusing and unplanned encounter with Jungkook, you found yourself sitting on the balcony of your apartment, staring out at the city lights. The soothing sound of one of your jazz playlists playing in the background served as a backdrop to your contemplation.

Just then, your phone buzzed, and it was Namjoon. He had sent you a text that read, “I don’t want to be the cause of your pain, but I can’t help how I feel. It’s complicated, I know. Just know that I’m here for you, no matter what you want to do.”

His message struck a chord deep within you. You realized that Namjoon carved himself a special place in your heart, and it was time to tell him your choice.

With Namjoon, you felt a different kind of connection. His understanding and acceptance of your complicated situation were comforting. The passion between you was undeniable, but more than that, you felt seen, valued, and respected in a way that you hadn’t with Jungkook.

As dawn breaks, you find yourself comfortably sheltered on your balcony with a steaming cup of coffee in your hands. The richness of its aroma fills your senses, providing a comforting solitude as you are lost in a sea of thoughts that you have been pondering since the early hours. Your surroundings are quiet, the world below still hushed in the early morning slumber.

Suddenly, this serene silence is broken by a familiar voice echoing from below. The unexpected shout of your name startles you, causing you to rise abruptly from your chair, your heart skipping a beat with the suddenness of it. Curiosity instantly piques within you, a compelling urge to discover the source of this voice calling you.

When you leaned over the balcony railing to peer down, much to your surprise and a slight sense of disbelief, you saw Namjoon. There he was, standing on the lonely street beneath your balcony, his posture exuding an aura of determination. The sight of him there, seemingly out of the blue, took you aback. You hadn’t expected to see him, not at this hour, not here.

“Namjoon, what are you doing here?” you managed to ask him, your voice barely a whisper against the morning chill. Your heart was racing, pounding in your chest at the unexpected sight of him. “Come on up!” You invited him in with a giggle, your mind spinning, thinking, oh my god, he’s here. A surge of laughter bubbled within you as you retreated from the balcony, giving him the time to go up to the first floor.

Without uttering a single word in response, Namjoon quickly made his way up the stairs leading to your apartment. As soon as he stepped through the door, his presence filled the room, bringing a sense of warmth and familiarity you hadn’t realized was missing until now.

The silence that had ensued was once again broken by Namjoon’s voice. His voice was softer and gentler this time, but his determination was no less. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, Y/N,” he confessed, his eyes directly meeting yours in a gaze that held you captive. “I needed to see you, talk to you.”

“You drive me crazy in the best possible way,” Namjoon started. “Every stolen glance, every lingering touch, it’s like electricity coursing through my veins, igniting a fire that I can’t control.”

“From the moment I met you, I’ve been consumed by the thought of you, your touch, your scent, your laughter.” Namjoon continued. “I couldn’t resist your pull on me, drawing me in like a moth.”

“You make me feel alive, Y/N,” Namjoon confessed, his eyes burning with desire. “And I never want to let that go. I want to explore every inch of you, body and soul, to lose myself in the passion we share.”

“I want you to go out for drinks with your friends,” Namjoon expressed, his voice still soft. “So when you feel hungover the next day, you’ll ask me to come see you because you want to have me in your arms and cuddle you.”

“I want us to talk in the mornings, still in bed, about all types of things,” Namjoon continued, a fond smile playing on his lips. “But sometimes in the afternoons, too, I want us to be able to do whatever we want during the day.”

“I want you to tell me about the nights you go out with your friends,” Namjoon confessed, his eyes filled with warmth. “And tell me about the guy at the bar who was trying to flirt with you all night. I want you to text me when you’re drunk with your friends just to tell me dumb things because you want to be sure that I’m also thinking about you.”

“I want us to laugh while we’re making love,” Namjoon declared, full of yearning. “To start laughing because we’re trying something new, and it doesn’t make any sense. I want us to be with our friends so you can take my hand and drag me to the other room because you can’t hold back anymore, and you want us to make love right there. I want to make you try to stay quiet because there are people outside, and they might hear us.”

“I want to eat with you all the time,” Namjoon continued. “And I want you to make me talk about myself and for you to talk about everything that’s on your mind. I want us to discuss which is best, the north coast or the south coast, the west or the east. I want to imagine our dream home, still aware that we might never live together.”

“I want to tell you about my plans, the ones that make no sense whatsoever,” Namjoon confessed, his voice filled with excitement. “I want to surprise you by saying, ‘Take your passport, we’re leaving.’ I want to be afraid with you. Do things I wouldn’t do with anyone else because you make me feel safe. Come back home drunk after a night out with my friends, and for you to take my face in your hands, kiss me, and keep me close to you the whole night.”

“I want you to have your life,” Namjoon continued, his tone sincere. “So you can decide to take a few weeks off to go on a trip just because you want to. So you leave me wishing to see you through FaceTime, but all it makes me do is miss you more.”

“I don’t want us to be joined at the hip all the time,” Namjoon admitted, a smile playing on his lips. “That way, we can hang out the next day. You can tell me about your night, and I can tell you about mine.”

“I want something simple yet complicated,” Namjoon declared, his eyes locking with you. “Something that often makes me question myself, but the moment I’m in the same room with you, all my doubts disappear. I want to tell everyone you’re gorgeous, and I want to be proud to say we’re together. I want to tell you that I love you, and most importantly, I want you to be able to say that you love me, too.”

“I want to make plans with you,” Namjoon continued, his voice filled with hope. “Unaware if we’ll make them come true. I want you to have a relationship where you know where you stand. I want to be someone who you love to be with. I want us to still have the desire to fool around at times because we’re still young.”

“I want to be the one you make love to and then fall asleep with,” Namjoon confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, his hand now caressing your cheek. “The one who gives you your space and loves when you get lost in your playlists. I want to have a single life with you because our relationship would be just like that, but together.”

i know i said i was done writing bb!couple but hey namjoon big. that’s it. that’s the tweet. anyway this before oc gets pregnant for the second time (so right after easy like sunday morning). i also haven’t written a smut scene in a long time so sorry if im rusty. basically namjoon just wants to make his wife feel good. slight pussy sniffing and a lot of oral sex (f receiving). namjoons dick is still big. joon luvs his wife :) 1.5k

You think there are tears in your eyes. It’s hard to stay mute, little tremors quaking through your body every time Namjoon laves his wide tongue against your folds, licking deep like he’s starving. Maybe he’s spurred on by the little whimpers that drift from your lips, body quivering when his tongue slips into your needy hole.

“Namjoon - angh!” It’s there already, the heat in your gut making your whole body burn as your nerves tingle. He hums and you know he’s smiling as he swirls your slick around your slit, dragging his tongue right back up to your swollen clit. “Ffffffuck! Namjoon! It’s t-too much!”

Keep reading

i kid you not i think the most consistent thing in my life at this moment is my NEED to reread this fic every month.

the cuddles got me this time — just something about the gentleness and explicit desire to be physically intimate when mc is experiencing something that society has deemed gross??? absolute swoon 🥹

they’re just so cute together too, like the back and forth, the teasing, the way they’re so comfortable with each other, all of it. 🥰🥰

deep end (explicit)

genre: pwp / domestic-ass smut hehe 💕

pairing: namjoon x reader (ft. no gendered language! bc lots of people get periods!)

summary: your boyfriend suggests a new way to relieve your period cramps.

word count: 4.2k

contains: explicit sexual content ~*~*~ established relationship, boyfie joon in a hoodie/glasses/with stubble (yes that's a warning), they use the term 'baby' a lot because it's me writing joon duh, some minor implications that menstruation is gross (from reader) (buuuut they get over it lol), 🩸period sex🩸, nipple play, fingering and clit stim, joon has a monster cock bc of course he does, size kink, bulge kink, he's all up in their cervix, reader has a.... cervical orgasm which might just be an a-spot orgasm my googling was inconclusive whatever none of you care - a good mix of fluff and playful bickering, the ending is soft 🫠

A/N: JOON HOES I HAVE RETURNED FOR YOU 🫡 it's been too long, so please take one of my favorite things i've ever written as my very sincere apology. idk this really just flowed out (no pun intended ksdjhgdfsdf) and i had a lot of fun with it, i heart bodies doing body things yknow. shout-out to my period for being extra bad last month and inspiring this.... it's called MANIFESTING amiright besties 💅✨ i hope y'all enjoy!!!! would love to hear your thoughts if you did 🥺💜

and all the love in the world to @haliiimede for betaing and being my emotional support capricorn, where would i be without you my love

read on AO3 !

~*~

The hinges of the bedroom door creak softly as it’s pushed open, and you glance up.

You’re where you’ve been for as long as social responsibilities will allow you to hide from the world and futilely attempt an afternoon nap: curled up on your side, knees pressed tight to your chest, gritting your teeth through each fresh round of stabbing pain. It’s worse than usual this month, for no discernible reason, which is stupid.

Namjoon leans against the doorframe, domestic-cozy-cute in the way that usually makes you want to jump him, glasses and a hoodie. He can’t help but smile sympathetically when he notices your arms are wrapped around an emotional support Koya plushie.

“You okay?”

You wince. “Cramps. I’ll be fine.”

There’s a flutter of mattress springs and bed sheets as he sits down at your side. “Is today the worst of it?” You nod. “Did you take your stuff?”

You smush your cheek against the top of Koya’s head, nuzzling into the soft fabric, tactile comfort. “Yes.”

“Extra-strength?”

“Yes, Joon,” you snap. “I’ve been having periods since I was twelve, I know what I’m doing.”

“Okay, baby.”

You feel guilty as soon as the exasperation-tinged words leave your mouth. “Sorry. I’m being an ass. Just… fucking hurts.”

He tries again. “Heating pad?”

“Worked for a bit, but I got too hot.” Your feet kick frustratedly under the blankets. “I’m ready for winter.”

Namjoon laughs at this. “Does that mean too hot for some company?”

The corners of your pouted mouth just barely start to pull up as you pretend to think it over. “…No.”

“Okay then.” He pushes back the sheets to slide in next to you, removing his glasses and reaching over to deposit them on the nightstand. He smells good, clean laundry and woody cologne. You don’t fight him when he moves to gently pry Koya out of your hands.

“Get out of here,” he murmurs, and you laugh in surprise when he unceremoniously flings the plushie across the room.

“Hey!”

“We don’t need him,” Namjoon says with a smug smile as he adjusts the blankets so he can settle in behind you.

Just the presence of him pressing into your back, big and solid and familiar, makes you start to unwind. His hand slips under your oversized t-shirt to rest on your low belly, fingertips dipping beneath the band of your underwear to gently trace over your skin. The warmth is nice— you feel yourself melt a little under his touch.

“You know what’s good for cramps?” He asks softly. You hum a response, prompting him to continue, and he does. “Orgasms.”

With a sigh, you turn your head to press your face into the pillow. “Vibrator’s dead.”

“Do you want me to plug it in?”

You make a sound that isn’t a clear yes or no, debating internally, then finally answer. “Don’t leave.”

He doesn’t. “What can I do then?”

The answer is immediate, paired with a dry laugh. “You can put me out of my misery.”

Namjoon shakes his head, tuts a little. “Can’t do that. But maybe I can help another way.”

The hand on your stomach slowly starts to slide further up, over your waist and rib cage, coming to cup one of your breasts. He gives it a tentative squeeze. “Sore?”

You shrug. “A little.”

“I’ll be gentle.”

His thumb starts to move, tracing slow, lazy circles over your nipple, coaxing the soft bud to a peak.

You let your eyes flutter closed and allow this sensation to overtake the others, enough to pull an appreciative noise out of you. “Nnh— feels good.” Your voice comes out nearly a whisper.

“Good.”

He wiggles his hips a little in response, and you can’t help but laugh when you feel something firm press against your ass. “How are you hard right now?”

“I don’t understand the question.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re still smiling, and you shift to turn onto your back so you can see him properly. It doesn’t hurt that it also gives him a better angle to play with both of your breasts— a second hand quickly finds its way up your shirt. “Everything turns you on.”

Namjoon shrugs, unbothered. “With you, yeah.”

“But…” You shift your legs vaguely under the sheets, knowing he’ll understand what you mean. “It’s gross.”

“How?”

The feeling of his fingers gently flicking over both of your nipples simultaneously makes your brain lag. “Uh— dirty.”

“Not true.”

Your eyes flutter shut again as you try to keep up with the conversation despite the heat of arousal that’s starting to swell in your gut, and lower. “Okay, messy.”

“All sex is messy,” Namjoon says, like it’s a given.

You huff a noise of frustration, glancing over at him. “Stop being obtuse. It’s different.”

“I’m not,” he insists. “It just sounds like you have some unnecessary shame. It’s a natural thing.”

“Natural,” you deadpan back. “You’re a hippie.”

He smiles. “Maybe.”

The admission is paired with a light pinch to your nipples, and you inhale sharply, biting back a whimper. “A freak.”

His laugh is soft and deep. “Sure. Have you fucked on your period before? I know we haven’t, but— ever?” You shake your head into the pillow. “Might feel good. They say it helps.”

You scoff at this. “Yeah, I bet ‘they’ all have dicks.”

“We don’t have to.”

Namjoon pauses, as if waiting for you to make a decision. You can’t ignore the way his hands on your tits have worked up a steady pulse between your legs.

“…You’ve done it before?” You squeeze your thighs together as you ask the question.

He shrugs. “Yeah.”

“And it wasn’t gross?”

“No, baby. It’s just a—”

“Do not say fluid,” you interrupt with a grimace.

He quirks an eyebrow. “An output.”

“Actually, I think that’s worse.”

A smile blooms on his face, dimples popping, his hands jiggling your breasts. Playful. “It’s free lube.”

You laugh despite yourself. “We’ll mess up the sheets.”

“We’ll put down a towel,” he corrects. “And if we do, I’ll wash them.”

You pause for a moment, considering. “Promise?” There are few things more torturous than the idea of doing laundry on your period.

“Yes, baby,” Namjoon assures you, his gaze roaming over your face. “But I don’t wanna force you. If you feel that bad, let’s just watch a movie.”

You narrow your eyes at him, unable to hide your smile. “Nuh-uh.” You scoot a little closer, rolling in to hitch a leg over him, your socked foot teasing up the back of his calf. “You played with my tits too much. No turning back now.”

The answer makes him cocky, his tongue briefly toying at the corner of his mouth when he smirks. “I’m not scared.” His voice is deeper, darkened by lust, enough to send a shiver through you.

You tilt your jaw up towards his mouth. “Kiss me.”

His lips are soft and warm when they press to yours, and you tip onto your back again, his knees and forearms sinking into the mattress as he follows to cover your body with his.

Your palms slip under his hoodie to slide up over the smooth, defined muscles of his stomach, the broad expanse of his chest. His tongue flutters over your lower lip, and your hands trace back down to the hem, bunching the thick fabric up in your fists.

“Take this off.”

Namjoon smiles against your skin, trailing kisses down your neck, his hands still pawing under your shirt. “Bossy today.”

You tug at his hoodie again for emphasis, earning a pinch to your nipples in response. “You like it.”

“I do.”

“Off.”

He sits up on his knees, untangling himself from under your shirt to strip, and you do the same. You can see the imprint of his dick already straining against the thin fabric of his joggers, and you reach up to slip your fingers under the waistband, running your palm down the length of him over his briefs. There’s a new kind of ache in your core now.

“These too.”

He laughs a little. “Okay, baby. And do you wanna—”

You follow his gaze to stare down at your own sweatpants. “Yeah, let me just. Bathroom.”

Namjoon leans forward, so his mouth ghosts over yours when you sit up. “I’ll get the towels.” He sucks gently on your bottom lip when he kisses you. It’s enough to leave you breathless.

You do your best not to overthink it as you slip into the bathroom and go through the motions. Sweatpants off, underwear too, pad discarded, attempt to clean up a little. You move fast, trying not to leak. The blankets are pushed to the foot of the bed when you return to the bedroom, brown towels laid over the sheets, even a box of tissues on the nightstand.

Namjoon has kicked off his pants and underwear, one hand lazily pumping himself as he turns to face you, muscles in his forearm shifting from the motion.

You lick your lips appreciatively. His cock is flushed dark, hard, already wet at the tip. The thought of him dripping precum just from setting out towels and tissues makes you giggle a little as you climb into bed— a Virgo through and through.

The mattress shifts as he crawls over you, letting go of himself to trace a slow hand up your thigh, over your hip, to finally settle at your waist. “Still okay?”

You nod and pull him down.

He kisses you more fervently this time, and you tilt your head to lick into his mouth, your breath edged with a moan when your tongues pass over each other. You run your hands along his back, nails scratching gently, as his lips move to brush against your jaw, then nibble at your ear.

“How do you want it, baby?” Namjoon’s voice goes straight to your cunt, thick and dripping like honey.

Your mind swims as you try to answer the question, and you instinctively bring your knees to your chest, not unlike the way you were curled up in bed earlier. You pull them apart a little, spreading yourself for him, nowhere to hide. Heat blooms in your face as his eyes trace your body down to your pussy, and he hums softly.

You suck in a breath at the barely-there brush of contact, his slender fingers tracing over your folds. “Is it bad?”

“It’s perfect. It’s you.” You bite down on your lip, not quite willing to believe it’s that simple. “Can I touch you?” You nod again. He groans a little in the back of his throat when he presses in. “Fuckin’ wet.”

“Joon,” you gasp. Your cunt flutters around his finger, tender, as if to suck him further in. He adds a second, sliding easily, and you can feel the way he curls inside to pet long strokes over the ridges of your front wall, made supple from sensitivity. The pleasure sends a shower of sparks through you, and your spine arches. You squeeze your eyes shut as they roll back in your skull.

“This okay?”

You reach up to dig your fingernails into his arms, his biceps flexing under your touch. “’Sgood, baby. More.”

“More fingers?”

You shake your head, eyes flickering open to meet his. “Cock.”

It’s both dirty and domestic, doing it in broad daylight, the bedroom drenched in mid-afternoon sun that pours between the cracked window blinds. No shadows to disguise it, no questioning the color painted over Namjoon’s fingers when he withdraws, dark red.

Your discomfort feels like an afterthought compared to how badly you want him now. He pauses to wipe the excess off on the towel beneath you, free hand guiding the still-slick tip of his cock to brush over your folds, teasing.

You can’t help but whimper. “Baby.”

With a soft grunt, he does it again, more purposefully now— the whole of this thick cock grinding over your slit, both of you smeared messy with arousal and flushed warm from blood-flow.

You press yourself up on your forearms in time to see him wrap his hand around the base and slide it in. He pushes slow, but you’re wet enough that he can slip right to the hilt without resistance, and your jaw goes slack as you watch all of him disappear up inside you.

“Ah, Joon—” you hiss a little as he bottoms all the way out, fucks in until there’s no space left between you.

He stills his hips, eyes flitting up to find yours. “Hurts?”

You shake your head and whine softly. The stretch was easier than normal, actually. “Just, nnh— full.” Letting your head drop back on the pillow, you breathe a laugh. “You’re fucking big.”

He’s nearly wincing. “You’re swollen, baby. Makes it feel like more.”

The pressure of being filled blooms thick, indulgent, a sensation you can feel all the way down to the soles of your feet, every inch of you plugged up with his cock. You lick your lips and try to speak.

“Can you move?”

Namjoon flashes a dimpled smile, suddenly shy. “Hang on.” He scrunches his nose a little, eyes rolling up briefly to fix at a spot on the wall behind you. You can hear the strain in his voice. “Trying not to come.”

Your eyes go wide. “Really? Are you a teenager?!”

He huffs an indignant laugh, face flushing. “It’s like a fucking flood down there! And you’re extra tight… So damn, give me a second.”

Giggling a little, you reach up to loop your arms around his shoulders, fingernails lazily scratching at the nape of his neck, combing through his dark hair that’s gotten so long. He exhales a slow stream of air as he closes his eyes for a moment, then blinks them open again with a smile.

“Okay. You okay?”

You hum. “The pressure is… it’s good. Think it’s helping.” Your cramps have started to subside, or at least you’re not focused on them.

“It’s not too much, all the way in like this?” He circles his hips experimentally, which makes the head of his cock press firmly against your cervix.

“Fuck,” you hiss, and you feel him reflexively start to pull out, paired with a concerned look flashed over his face. You smack a hand to his lower back to stop him, to hold him still.

“Please, Joonie, don’t— it felt good. Just, ah, keep doing that.”

“You squeezed me so hard. Thought I hurt you.” He rolls his hips again and you both groan softly. “Shit, baby, look down.” Namjoon’s voice is slightly hoarse.

You tilt your head up to see an unmistakable bulge in your lower abdomen that shifts as he ruts his hips into you again. You gasp at the rush of pleasure and the visual of his cock so deep inside you.

“You like that?” You swallow hard and nod at his question, whimpering as he brings one hand up to gently press down around his girth. A mixture of pleasure and relief floods through you, and you moan. “Like it when I’m in your stomach, baby?”

Your head drops back against the pillow. “Fuck” is the only answer you can give as he keeps moving his hips.

It takes you by surprise when you feel the brush of his lips over yours, and you tilt up to deepen the kiss instinctively. “So damn sexy,” he murmurs into your mouth. For a minute, you let the rest go, and allow yourself to believe him.

Namjoon falls into a consistent rhythm, cock grinding into your cervix so steadily that it makes it impossible for you to bite back your moans. He keeps one hand splayed over your stomach to meet himself there, and your cunt squeezed in between feels liable to overflow, on the verge of splitting open.

“Nnh, shit, Joon, that feels so good.” It’s like he’s pressing up on your lungs now— you can hardly breathe, dizzy with pleasure. 

Fucking is somehow more intimate this way, taking him as deep as you can go and keeping him there, his shallow flutter-thrusts rocking slow and heavy for your shared sensitivity. Trading lazy kisses and stilted breaths and pretty sounds into each other’s open mouths. The press of his broad hands into your skin and the towel-guarded mattress, the wet squish of your folds on the base of his cock.

“God,” Namjoon groans, breath ghosting over your lips. “This perfect fuckin’ pussy.”

Without warning— or maybe in response— your walls start to pulse, and then the dam of steadily built-up pleasure bursts, a rush so intense that you can only gasp and dig your nails into Namjoon’s shoulders. “Joon, Joon—” You clarify when his brow creases with concern: “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” You think you might die if he does.

He keeps going, barely-there strokes that rub the thick head of his cock into you over and over, and you cry out as you come fully undone.

A strange new feeling lights you up like a live wire, warmth radiating through your body as contractions squeeze your pussy so tight you swear you see stars when you close your eyes.

Namjoon curses under his breath, your whole body shaking beneath him as he works this surprise orgasm all the way out of you, until your thighs reflexively pull together and he stills his motions again.

“Oh my god,” you murmur, turning your head to press your cheek into the pillow. You slowly start to come down through the aftershocks, a lingering buzz glittering in your fingertips from the weight of his cock still crammed up inside you.

Namjoon’s large hands pet up the backs of your thighs, trailing soft heat. “You good, baby? That was crazy.”

“I-I just—” You exhale in an attempt to catch your breath, and it turns into a laugh as your eyes flicker open. “I didn’t know I could come from that. Fuck.”

He cracks a smile. “Sensitive. How’s it feel?” He leans forward to seek a kiss and you return it, nuzzling along the line of his jaw once you break apart. His stubble drags against your cheek, not unpleasant, and you shiver a little.

“I don’t know, I just had a crazy fucking… cervix orgasm,” you tease. “I’d say it’s pretty good.”

“Just don’t want it to hurt.”

“It doesn’t,” you murmur into his mouth. “So fuck me?”

You both moan when Namjoon begins to properly move, thrusting slow and deep-deep, your pussy clinging tight to him on the upstroke. You’re wet enough to gush when he fucks back in— just the sound of it makes your head spin. Your clit aches, so worked up untouched that it’s starting to throb.

“Baby,” you whine. “Touch me. Wanna come again. Please.”

He hums a soft noise of surprise, eyebrows raising, hips worked up to a steady rhythm now. “Already?” His lips press to yours again, and a sly smile spreads across them as he pulls back. “Needy.”

You huff a laugh, leaning up for another kiss, insatiable. “I said please.”

Namjoon earns a whimper out of you this time when his tongue swipes into your mouth, and he’s a little breathless when he breaks away. “I like you needy. I’ll keep you in this bed all day, if that’s what you want.”

“I—nnh—” you lose the thread of mid-sex conversation entirely as he shifts to free one hand and bring the pad of his thumb to your clit, flicking down firmly at a pace to match his strokes. “Fuck, Joon.”

Your hands grasp at the pillow beneath your head, fingers sinking in to grip desperate. He’s pounding heavy into your g-spot now, your legs spread wide and back arched up to take it.

It’s so good, it’s overwhelming, warm glow all the way through you. Arousal drips from your cunt to make the squelch of his strokes even messier. His hips are unrelenting, and your thighs start to shake from the pleasure, amplified with every pass of his thumb over your clit.

“Just—” You can barely speak, have to gasp for air after the first word, “—just like that.”

“Baby,” Namjoon’s voice comes out hoarse, in the way it does when he’s close, too. The bed creaks from the weight of his strokes. “So damn tight, so soft, can you feel it?”

A whine and a nod are all you can manage. You can feel him everywhere, down to the details, the fat veins that run the length of his cock molded to your walls, pulsing velvet heat. Your cunt melts lush around him, wet and raw as he fucks you apart. He rubs you in time to bring you over the edge again, and you’re helpless to it, can only let out a strangled sob of a noise as you tense up and come hard.

Namjoon’s thumb keeps circling, hips keep rocking, working you through it and groaning low in his throat for the way your cunt clenches up around him. Your nails dig into the pillow as you shudder and gasp.

“That’s it, shit, baby. Tight little pussy, gonna make me come too, fuck.”

With a grunt of effort, he pulls out, one hand reaching down to stroke his cock as he comes, thick ropes of his release painting your stomach in milky gloss. Your cunt pulses around nothing, hot pleasure aftermath, twitching sensitive.

Fucked to oblivion, you collapse against the mattress, feeling spent and heavy-all-over. Your head is still spinning, enough that you’re only distantly aware of the way Namjoon’s ragged breathing softens at the edges and starts to dissolve into gentle laughter.

Your eyes blink open to see him leaning over you, reaching for the tissues on the nightstand.

“Good thing I grabbed these,” he remarks as he lifts up his red-stained palm.

You can’t help but gasp at the sight. “Oh my god, Joon.”

The corner of his mouth pulls up enough for a dimple to wink back at you as he goes through a couple tissues to clean himself up. “Relax, baby. It really doesn’t bother me.” He pulls a few more loose from the box to deal with the mess on your stomach. “Just wanna point out that you don’t mind when I come on you.”

You huff. Smart-ass. “It’s different.”

“Is it?” He challenges. “It’s just bodies being bodies. Byproducts of the human condition.”

You can’t quite hide your smile. “You’re a poet.”

“Maybe.” His clean hand smacks playfully against your thigh, jiggling the soft skin there. “Shower time.”

The whine that escapes you sounds pathetic, even to you. Movement of any kind feels impossible. “I won’t make it.”

“Come on.” You yelp and grab to wrap the towel beneath you over your waist as Namjoon scoops you up in an effortless bridal carry and heads for the bathroom. He turns the shower on with his foot as you cling to him for dear life, but he somehow manages not to drop you.

When he deposits you onto still-shaky legs, you let the towel drop to the bathroom floor. The water is scalding when you step into the shower, the way you both like it. Crowding you under the spray, he reaches for the washcloth and squirts a liberal amount of body wash into the fabric, infusing the steam with eucalyptus and mint. It feels like you can breathe a little deeper.

One large hand comes to your hip under the water as he works up a lather. “Turn around.”

You can feel the staining at the crux of your thighs, dry and sticky, as you shift unsurely in place. “Nnh,” you pout. “Can I rinse first?”

“Nope. Tryna take care of you, so let me.”

Scrunching your nose for dramatic effect, you turn for him. When the washcloth passes over your skin, his touch is so gentle, so immediately overwhelming, that emotion bubbles up before you can stop it. There’s nothing you can do to hide the way your shoulders start to shake as tears spill down your face.

It takes a second, and then you feel his motions slowly come to a stop. “Baby?”

You shake your head, embarrassed, bringing your arm up to wipe at your nose. “‘m fine. Emotional. Ignore me.”

“I can’t do that.” He rights himself, and the fingertips of his free hand trace the line of your jaw, encouraging your gaze to meet his. “Talk to me, please.”

Another fat droplet slides down your cheek, and his thumb catches it. You inhale, trying to catch your breath, and your chest shudders. “It just. Feels like too much, sometimes. Like I don’t deserve it.” You gesture broadly. “Everything, you. I don’t know.”

Namjoon frowns a little as he momentarily drapes the washcloth over the edge of the tub. “C’mon, don’t think like that.”

When he pulls you in, you allow yourself to sink into the embrace, tears flowing freely as his strong arms press you close. You know he’ll let you ride it out, the same way you do with him.

His lips brush over your hairline. “You’re good to me, wanna be good back,” he explains, voice low. “That’s all.”

Your cheek rubs against the hard plane of his chest as you nod.

“You’re so good to me, Joon. Too good.”

“Nah.” You don’t even have to look up to know he’s smiling— you can hear it in his voice. “You’re easy to love.”

The Suspenders

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jungkook / Reader

Word Count: 2,048

Rating: PG-13

Summary: A Brooklyn 99 inspired drabble, featuring Jungkook as Peralta, Namjoon as Holt, and I’ll let you guess the rest. ALTERNATIVELY TITLED: Shanna writes fanfic within fanfic as an excuse to have Jungkook doing dumb shit in an uniform. Go nuts!

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chapter 3 / remedies : read on ao3

Oh. Okay. So that’s how it is. He doesn’t even know.

The great god of Spring doesn’t know what being sick is, never had a common cold before. There’s something extremely amusing in it: he’s a grown man for all you know, and this is the first time he experiences the wonders of sickness.

Gods are mighty different, you’re starting to notice that. And definitely not in the ways you first expected.

–

the hiatus is over, and the third chapter of my fantasy kylo ren/reader AU is out now! time to care for a sick spring…

Faceless | fourteen

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"I don't like this." Hangyul mutters beside Eunsang as they walk together to the gate where their food delivery is waiting.

They have to get their food at the main gate since it's already ten in the evening and the academy doesn't allow deliveries in the campus past eight o' clock. Eunsang notices some security guards as they pass the gardens but he ignores them. Instead, he leans closer to his upperclassman and whispers back.

"What don't you like, hyung?"

"Not knowing what really happened." Yohan answers as he falls in step with them, flanking Eunsang’s sides with the other junior. "You know what, though? With the volume of your voices, you might’ve as well told the entire school."

Eunsang snickers to himself when all of a sudden, Wooseok appears beside them.

"Told the entire school what?" Wooseok asks as he brushes his black hair back, brown eyes as doe-like as ever.

Hangyul turns around to face the other three. He doesn’t feel okay all of a sudden. The tightness in his chest won’t go away. “Why are you two here?” he blurts out to Yohan and Wooseok.

They all stop. Eunsang gives him a slight tilt of the head as if to ask “what now?”. But Hangyul isn’t having any of it. To him, there is no comfort in not knowing what is actually going on around them. And makes it all the worse when the people surrounding him doesn’t seem to care at all.

“Why are you guys acting like this is a normal night? Is nobody really going to address what happened in the cafeteria?” Hangyul runs his hand through his hair harshly, his hand falling with a thud on his leg after.

Wooseok shifts from foot to foot, but he doesn’t say a thing. Instead, he averts his eyes and checks on his nails. Next to him, Yohan has his eyebrows furrowed in confusion or disagreement...Hangyul isn’t sure. But a light passes on his face and suddenly, the expression is gone.

Yohan shakes his head slowly. “It’s not our story to talk about.”

Hangyul rolls his eyes. “Not even when our friends are involved?”

Summary: Junho is hiding something and only you can uncover it.

Also known as Junho’s everyday life as a robot...or is he?

A/N: The calm before the storm. Btw, whose face do you guys picture when you think of Headmaster Cha?

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Clear DA ERA MY FAVORITE FIC AUTHOR IS BACK!!!

* my followers expressing their theories and concerns about how Polarity will end and toxicity of the MC and JK’s relationship, think pieces of JK’s personality and possible foreshadowing of what’s to come, his endless mommy issues, questions about Hoseok and how much of a bitch Eunji is, how much they wish MC would free herself and genuine concern over her well-being ect*

me trying to decide which color to make the kitchen island and how to describe the floor tiles:

Cold Snap Masterpost (Seonghwa x Reader)

 ✅ Completed ✅

Original Release: 12/01/23 - 12/30/23

Trailer

Part I: When the Park family shows up to the Beyond Zero Ski Lodge a day before their reservation, you do your best to accommodate them. Too bad the most handsome Park is a major asshole.

Part II: You begin to befriend both the younger and older members of the Park family, but to Seonghwa, it seems as if you’ve got other intentions.

Part III: After your not-so-pleasant interactions with Seonghwa, he’s turned a new leaf. But this new leaf is ridiculously awkward and hard to navigate for the two of you, especially with the Park's departure closing in.

Part IV: As you learn more about Seonghwa, you grow uneasily closer to one another. But you don’t get enough time to unfold each layer of his complicated life before the Park family checks out of the Beyond Zero Ski Lodge. That is, until something brings Seonghwa back to you.

Harmless Masterlist

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, series)

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It's hard being a ghost. It's hard and no one understands.

(I May Be Invisible, But I Still Look Good by @dandylovesturtles really has no mercy for Leo, he can't even chill on his own bed after having his soul ripped out of his body, this is the worst thing that happened to him, ever 😔)

opposites attract.

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

↳ word count: 14.3k

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

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

MINORS DNI 18+ CONTENT AHEAD

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You cannot wait to let Yunho know about the news.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No, before that."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

But your friends aren’t satisfied with your explanation. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s your address?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll cheers to that,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laugh gently at him, he is so cute.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good girl,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Does this feel good, pretty?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Need to cum,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let’s clean you up, pretty.”

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well, I had an amazing tutor."

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

Fanart for graphite and tea by @drowning-in-cacophony

It was one of the first maiko fics I ever read and I loved artist!Mai 😊

𝐝𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞・b.c.

— incurable playboy turned doting boyfriend was a character development arc nobody saw coming for christopher bang, including (especially) his frat brothers.

words・2.8k pairing・frat president!chris x gn!reader genres・fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, college!au, fuckboy!chris, boys being boys, kissing, implied sex so mdni warnings・substance use, talk of past heartbreak

a/n・here is "nobody believes you're dating" w/chan, requested by none other than my @rachalixie for my 2k event !! anny, i hope u love this fic as much as i love u; thank you for allowing me to write something so self-indulgent <3

In the deafening throes of one of Phi Mu Alpha’s spring kickbacks, Minho finds Jeongin and Seungmin standing in motionless silence by the kitchen counter. Both boys are gaping at something with an intensity that dips egregiously into the realm of creepy.

He moves to pour himself a shot. “What the fuck are you people looking at?”

Seungmin prods a pointer finger in the relevant direction. It takes a few seconds of scanning the scene for Minho to find what he’s referring to. He digs a knuckle into his eye, instantly confused by what he’s seeing. Maybe the gaping is justified.

The windows and doors have all been thrown open to invite the balmy April weather into the foyer of the frathouse. There’s a large crowd of people huddled around a long, foldable table stationed before the stairs; Jaehyun clutches a ping-pong ball between his fingers, singular eye squinted shut as he takes aim. The number of remaining solo cups dwindles rapidly, as does the players’ sobriety.

Something—someone—is missing.

Not to say “beer pong virtuoso” was one of the reasons Chris was elected frat president, but you’d think the guy had a career path in basketball with how he’s given the entire Greek life community alcohol poisoning by courtesy of two or three plastic balls alone. Minho has never known him to miss a shot, let alone miss out on a game.

Today, however, the reigning champion is only spectating, seated above the ongoing match on one of the steps of the main staircase.

A beautiful stranger is sitting beside him, cheek pressed to his shoulder as you peer at the match through the bannister.

You say something inaudible. The laugh it earns from Chris is bright enough to pick up from a few streets down. He leans in to murmur something in return, and you slide your hand over his nape to pull his mouth onto yours, light blush crawling up and over your ears. The way Chris melts into you can only be described as familiar, his eyes slowly fluttering shut, finger hooking delicately beneath your chin, grin going lopsided as your lips part—

“That’s enough,” Minho hisses, tearing his eyes away with considerable effort. “Aren’t you ashamed? Just fucking ogling.”

Jeongin shakes his head, grinning. “It’s dinner and a show. We’d be idiots not to.”

By dinner, he must mean the gallon of chocolate milk he’s been drinking from for the last hour. He now holds out said gallon with the intent to cheers. Seungmin picks up the entire handle and does the same.

Minho sighs, clinks his glass against theirs, and they throw back their respective refreshments in unison.

“Anywho.” Jeongin swipes the back of his hand over his mouth before going on. “You guys know who that is?”

Minho resurfaces with a wince, relishing in the bitter aftermath, then motions for Seungmin to give the bottle back straightaway. He arrived to the function late and he’s not nearly as drunk as he’d like to be.

Seungmin obliges Minho only after another heady swig. “No clue. Probably just another fling, no?”

“Mmm,” Jeongin hums in assent. “It’s Chris we’re talking about, after all.”

"Agreed. Case closed.”

There’s an air of finality in Seungmin’s voice—but Minho isn’t so sure.

Perhaps because he has never noticed that Chris had dimples until now; or because you fold so naturally into Chris' side after your kiss ends, head nuzzling against the crook of his neck and hand seeking out his to hold in your lap; or, most likely, because Chris' eyes seem to return to you when he looks at you, as if his gaze drifting anywhere else is but a momentary departure from where it really belongs. As if he comes home every time you come into his line of vision.

Whatever the reason, the idea coalesces in Minho’s mind, even as inebriation begins to fall over his cognitive faculties like a curtain, that the boys have got it wrong.

Jeongin utters his name, jolting him out of his trance. There’s another shot lifted halfway to Minho’s lips that hasn’t budged in minutes. “Whatcha thinking about?”

Minho looks at Jeongin first, Seungmin next, then back at Chris and his stunning companion. He’s not inclined to answer the question in full, but he can in truth. A coy smile crosses his face.

“Threesome?”

Jeongin laughs hard enough to collapse onto the kitchen island. Seungmin drags a hand down his face. “Come on, man.”

In the corner of his eye, you’ve gone back to kissing again, slow and sweet and secretive. Chris' gentle hold on your jaw shields you from view but fails to hide his lovesick smile. Dimly, Minho thinks that maybe his friend has met his match.

Then, he takes four shots in rapid succession—and stops thinking altogether.

Christopher Bang’s love life is like a horror movie and romcom spliced together: a fiasco of a film to which his housemates have front row seats.

The frat’s upperclassmen live in sets of four-bed, two-bath suites comprising a small common space with a kitchen and a sitting area, sandwiched by bedrooms on either side. It is in that common space that Changbin, Hyunjin, and Jisung often see or hear Chris stumbling home after a night out, entangled with a different attractive stranger every time—so often, in fact, that they’ve come to believe that he’s deathly allergic to anything bigger than a one-and-done hookup.

They can’t judge. In part because they’d be throwing stones from glass houses, but also because the man’s penchant for empty physicality is far from unfounded. His past self gave pieces of his heart to the wrong people, contracted first-degree burns from the guileless warmth he sought out. Now, his version of “intimacy” is less a connotation of closeness than it is a self-contradiction, for it should be impossible for so much distance to remain between two people in a single bed.

Chris hasn’t vocalized any of this. Nor have his housemates discussed it with each other. The knowledge simply exists in the air between the four of them like something akin to taboo, dipping in and out of acknowledgement depending on the circumstance.

This might be the circumstance of all time.

At around 11:40 A.M. on a Saturday, three doors in the suite open at once. Hyunjin and Changbin aren’t coincidence—the latter is coercing the former to go to the gym again—but they lift their eyes to the opposite side of the living room, and the slice of milk bread dangling from Hyunjin’s lips very nearly takes a fatal fall. Changbin manages to snatch it up with an extended hand.

Chris has just emerged from his room as well. Your silhouette follows close behind, your mouth stretching into a yawn as you massage the sleep from your eyes. You’re sporting a mesh green sweater identical to one Chris owns. They find Chris' accessories more interesting than his clothes, though: two hickeys peeking out from beneath his jaw and the base of his neck.

Chris sees Hyunjin and Changbin right away, and his expression goes utterly blank, not unlike their faces as they watch you close his door meticulously. You turn around and gasp.

The four of you stare at each other for what feels like multiple business days. At least, Hyunjin, Changbin, and Chris stare at each other; your eyes dart between the men on the other side of the room and the man next to you, silently pleading for him to say something. He does not for a long while.

Then, he lunges for one of the throw pillows on the couch and flings it at Hyunjin like a shot put. It ricochets off his chest and lands on the floor rather anticlimactically.

“Distraction!” Chris yells anyways, grabbing your hand and tearing towards the exit, wild grin on his face. “Go, go, go!”

Your raucous laughter lingers even after you’ve been hauled away, accompanied by an unintelligible, breathless shout of something along the lines of my toothbrush—and then the front door clicks shut, and there are two.

Changbin and Hyunjin lock eyes, struggling to process what just happened. Hyunjin is the first to move, wandering hesitantly into the bathroom that Chris and Jisung share. Nothing about the place looks out of the ordinary.

“Oh, shit,” Hyunjin says out loud.

Aside from the two toothbrushes slotted in the holder on Chris' side of the counter, that is.

Something moves in the bathroom window, catching his attention. Hyunjin looks over just in time to spot you and Chris dart out onto the lawn two floors below. Chris has his arm draped over your shoulders, yours wrapped around his waist. Your smile is discernible all the way from here, and Hyunjin sees a perfect mirror of it on his friend’s face when Chris glances at the frathouse over his shoulder. 

Has he always had dimples?

Moments later, Changbin joins him in peering out the window. A high-pitched cackle erupts from the older boy’s lips. “Look at that idiot.”

Standing off to the left is a tiny, astonished Han Jisung, his arms full of groceries, jaw sitting squarely the grass and whites of his eyes on full display as he watches you and Chris stroll away.

Hyunjin laughs with his whole fucking body. Changbin whips out his phone and takes a picture.

When you finally breach the topic, it’s because you don’t think you can physically study for another minute—but also because, after multiple long months of fruitless sparring, your curiosity finally wins.

Your boyfriend is seated in your desk chair, feet kicked up onto your mattress with his laptop propped up on his thighs. His features have rearranged themselves into an expression of intense focus. You can hear the music blaring through his headphones from all the way here.

You uncross your legs from below you, scootch across your bed, and lift your hands to cradle his cheeks. He starts as if jolted out of a trance, then starts to smile when he reads the words hi, Channie off your lips.

His headphones fall around his neck. He sets his laptop down onto your desk with a dull thunk. The next thing to drop is you when Chris seizes you by the waist and tackles you into the mattress. The somber atmosphere of your study session is shattered by your muted laughter and Chris pressing his lips to every inch of your exposed skin he can. He saves your mouth for last.

“Hey, beautiful,” he answers after kissing the living daylights out of you, the syllables soft and silky with adoration. “Missed me?”

The room’s dim lightning sets your boyfriend aglow. You drag your eyes from his brown irises with blown pupils to his sloping nose, from his disheveled dark locks to his cordate lips, so plush and warm against your own that you swear you still feel them there. 

“Always,” you say, brushing a hand over the back of his neck, your head now spinning so badly you can barely remember what you wanted to ask him. “I was starting to feel jealous of your homework.”

He chuckles. “Shit, I’ll drop out of college right now, baby. Just say the word.”

“You’re perfect,” you hum, nudging the tip of your nose against his.

“Says you.”

Your lips find his again—needless to say, your study sessions aren’t known for their productivity—and a lot of time passes before you come up for air. Even afterwards, Chris doesn’t let you go far, pulling you into his chest by the curve of your waist, nuzzling his cheek into your hairline. You only need to murmur for him to hear your question.

“Can I ask you something?”

“'Course,” he returns, and you’re close enough to sense him tighten with apprehension. “Everything okay?”

“Yes. Don’t worry.” You print a kiss to the side of his neck for extra reassurance. “It’s just…I’ve been meaning to ask how your friends feel about me.”

He tightens with something else now: surprise, you’re guessing, hoping. You hadn’t seriously considered that the answer could be negative, but it’s dawning on you now that the possibility of that isn’t zero.

“Where’s this coming from?” Chris inquires, his tone opaque.

You hesitate, mentally reviewing your interactions with your boyfriend’s social circle. Hyunjin and Jisung can’t make eye contact with you when they speak to you. Minho does nothing but make eye contact with you whether he’s speaking to you or not. Jeongin and Seungmin can maintain small talk for about ten seconds before they start looking like they would rather be anywhere else. Changbin is the only one you’ve held a conversation with, and only because you were going up the same stairs at the same time and the alternative would have been mind-numbing silence.

What is the best way for you to say this?

“Well,” you begin, “I can’t help but notice that they act a little—when I’m around, they’re a bit, uh—”

“—crazy,” Chris offers. “Completely fucking bat-shit crazy.”

“Yes. Exactly that.”

Chris threads a hand through your hair, the comforting gesture doing nothing to assuage your worry. It seems there’s some truth behind your impressions. Your next words are tinged with a quiet sadness.

“I’m not imagining things, then?”

“No, angel,” he sighs. “But not for the reasons you think.”

A beat passes. Chris perceives your silence as a chance to backtrack, to opt out of this conversation if it’s one he’s not ready for. He would’ve leapt at the opportunity once.

But he realizes in that moment, with your voice gentle against his ears and your touch so doting upon his skin, how much has changed since he met you: from the color of the sky to the word home and everything in between, including his cynicism towards love and all the iterations of forever it holds. 

With that epiphany comes another, then another: he wants you to know why his friends are acting insane, wants you to know about him and his past and all the wounds of his you never know you healed, wants you to spend the rest of this forever with him.

His pointer finger dusts beneath your chin, a wordless request for you to look at him, and he nearly liquifies when you do and he finds entire constellations in your eyes. 

“It’s a lot,” he mumbles, though he suspects you know that already; he suspects you know about the other stuff, too. 

You bring your hand to the side of his face, bring your forehead to rest upon his. Your closeness washes over him like a low summer tide lapping over sandy shores, a soothing balm spreading over scorched flesh. 

“It’s you,” you whisper. “I will love it just the same.”

Chris' held breath comes out in shudders.

So this is warmth.

Minho and Felix are watching anime on the couch when a knock comes at their door, unfortunately during a pivotal moment of a pivotal episode. 

Minho hits pause with a ghastly groan. Felix laughs and rises to his feet, dashing into his room to grab the two silver necklaces he’ll be loaning out for the evening. “Coming!”

Outside, Chris is standing alone, hips and thighs accentuated by a pair of tight-fitting dress pants, sculpted chest and collarbones framed by a thin, cream-colored shirt with the top three buttons undone. Most of his hair has been pushed off his forehead, leaving a few locks free to fall over his right eyebrow. He’s rolling up his sleeves when Felix opens the door, veined forearms flexing as a result of the effort.

“Well?” He asks. Minho cranes his neck to look past Felix.

Both boys start to holler and whistle like excited macaques.

“What in the Calvin Klein is this?” Felix shouts, spinning Chris around by the shoulders. “You look insane, bro. Holy fuck.”

“What’s the occasion, young man?” Minho inadvertently sounds like a gruff uncle. “Where are you going dressed like that, huh?”

Chris' laugh comes easier nowadays. What’s more, it comes in a way that reaches the rest of him, that ends in a tiny, high squeak that you really have to look for in order to hear. Felix and Minho can't help but replicate his smile. Those clothes look good on him, yes, but happiness looks even better.

“You guys are silly,” Chris giggles. Dimples indent his cheeks as he accepts the necklaces from Felix. “Thanks, man. I’ll give ‘em back tomorrow.”

“No rush,” Felix replies, grinning. “Have fun, yeah?”

“We will.” Chris starts to retreat down the hallway, hands moving to clasp the jewelry around his neck, but not before he blows the both of them a kiss.

“Be back before ten!” Minho hollers; Chris laughs again, turns a corner, and disappears.

Felix closes the door. His smile falters fast. Minho has brought his face mere centimeters away, his expression thoroughly humorless.

“Tell me only the truth, Lee Yongbok,” he deadpans.

“O-okay—”

“Is Chris in a relationship?”

“—oh.” Felix frowns. “Well, yeah.”

Minho blanches. “How—how long?”

“One year, give or take? Anniversary’s today.”

Minho is stunned. Felix is stunned that Minho is stunned.

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

Well that or you start biting it violently like a wild animal

Ever read a fic that was so beautifully written that you start kicking your legs and giggling like a teenage girl