⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

You’re moaning and trying your best to keep your lips wrapped around yeonjun’s dick as his best friend of over ten years stretches the tight walls of your cunt open. You should be having a great time right now. You should be going stupid from the stimulation. But instead—

They're arguing.

Every time another stupid sentence leaves Yeonjun’s mouth, Soobin fucks into you harder. He doesn’t mean to, but Yeonjun is being so annoying right now. Poor bunny is trying so hard to be gentle while his drama queen of a friend continues running his mouth.

You're filled from both ends, body shaken back and forth between the two bickering men. They’ve been going at it non stop for hours now. Not even sex has seemed to shake them. It’s exhausting to say the least.

"You changed the decorations I picked, asshole!"

"Yeah, because you decided to pick them without asking me first."

"Well you would’ve just said no anyways, because you— ah— you have awful taste."

"Can you two please shut up! I'm trying to cum!"

You try to get them to continue focusing on the task at hand, fucking you, but they just grunt at each other. Soobin continuing to slam roughly into you, too irritated to remember to be gentle. Not that you’re complaining though, your sweet bunny is rarely ever rough. Yeonjun on the other hand is just simply too stubborn to completely let go of this pointless argument, even as he stares down at your pretty mouth swallowing his cock whole.

You’re so close to heaven, with Soobin relentlessly pounding into you as he moans and grunts and Yeonjun letting out the prettiest whimpers and leaning back onto his hands. You love having them like this, even if their endless back-and-forth is starting to get on your last nerve. Yeonjun’s mouth is slightly agape and his tie is hanging loosely around his neck, his blazer discarded somewhere on the floor. His pants are unbuttoned and boxers pulled down just enough for his leaky cock to be freed. You can’t see Soobin, but you’re willing to bet his hair is falling in his face and his pretty lips are glistening with leftover saliva from licking them constantly.

Even as you manage to shut them up for a bit, Soobin has started purposely slamming his hips flush with your ass, making you deepthroat Yeonjun. Which in turn, is making him whine pathetically as his hands dig into the sheets.

Soobin thought it was amusing at first, making Yeonjun loose his composure more than he already was to get him to finally shut up. But it wasn’t so funny when Yeonjun started obviously getting close to climax, his head tipping back and his moans getting higher and higher. He’s been nothing but a bitch all day long, he doesn’t deserve to cum first.

Yeonjun’s head shoots back up, staring daggers into Soobin’s eyes when your mouth is suddenly no longer around his dick. Soobin had yanked you back, hands tight on your hips. He couldn’t help but smirk seeing Yeonjun look so annoyed.

"What the fuck??” Yeonjun spits.

If looks could kill, Soobin would’ve been long gone right now. Yeonjun is not too happy with being edged right as he was about to cum so far down your warm throat.

“What? I didn’t do anything.” Soobin smiles, feigning innocence as his movements start to slow, more focused on getting back at his best friend than fucking you.

You were so close to cumming. But yet again, your momentary bliss is put on hold while the men argue. You could almost roll your eyes right now if it weren’t for Yeonjun gently grabbing your cheeks and feeding his dick right back in. Seems he’s choosing to ignore Soobin for once.

“Ahh fuck yesyesyes, just like that” Yeonjun moans out as your lips wrap back around him, his hands on the sides of your face slowly guiding you down.

“Feels so good, keep going please fuck— oh my god… You’re so pretty, so good at this” he babbles on.

You love when he gets like this, so pretty and dazed from the stimulation that he just talks and talks. Even in bed Yeonjun never knows how to stop talking.

Soobin however, does not love it. Even as he picks his pace back up and resumes fucking in and out of you, he’s distracted. And fed the fuck up.

“Will you stop— uh— talking please?” Soobin grunts out.

“Why should I listen to you? You don’t ever listen to me.”

“You think the whole world should listen to your stupid ideas.”

Your mouth pops off Yeonjun once again, this time to speak.

“Soobinnn, ‘m so close!” you moan out, feeling that familiar feeling building up in your lower tummy. Soobin’s thrusts have gotten brutal as Yeonjun continued to aggravate him further once again, his tip hitting and abusing your cervix over and over.

Suddenly the feeling of you clenching around Soobin has made itself known, his eyes falling to the sight of himself going in and out of you making him dizzy. He’s no longer busy arguing as he moans and snakes his fingers around you to work at your clit.

“Fuck— Yeah, okay. Go ahead and cum for me.”

Both the attention on Yeonjun’s cock and his words are forgotten now as Soobin’s tunnel visioned on making you cum. Yeonjun is not done talking though, and he’s tired of Soobin ruining everything.

“I want an apology.” he declares firmly.

“What? No way!” Soobin retorts, gaze averting from your dripping cunt back to Yeonjun.

You groan as Soobin’s pace falters once again, his fingers halting all movement at the absurdity of his friends words.

You’re pissed. If these two idiots would just shut up for one minute you would’ve came ages ago.

“What do you mean ‘no way’?” Yeonjun questions as he pushes his dick inside your warm mouth once again. “I deserve one! You’re the one who’s been a jerk all day long.”

“Me? You’re the one who’s been going around bad mouthing me to everyone just because you can’t handle not getting your way!” Soobin spits back, having completely stopped all movement now.

That’s it. You are sick and tired of your orgasm being put on hold over and over for them to continue having the worlds dumbest argument.

“Will you both just fucking kiss and make up?! You’re both jerks because you won’t let me cum!” You practically cry out, removing your mouth from Yeonjun once again as your eyebrows furrowed in annoyance.

And that may have just been the best thing you’ve ever said.

Were they finally quiet? No. But were they still arguing? Nope!

They couldn’t when they were too busy moaning into each others mouths as they make out above you. Yeonjun’s up on his knees now to reach Soobin better, thrusting harshly in and out of your wet mouth. Soobin’s no better, bullying his cock into you relentlessly. Both their paces barely steady, and you know it won’t be much longer before they both cum.

And lo and behold, Yeonjun was the first to go. Moaning loudly into Soobin’s mouth as he shoved himself as far down your throat as he possibly could. Your nose buried into his pelvis as cum spurts into your mouth. You could feel yourself getting dizzy, finally feeling the warmth build back up in your stomach. Soobin must’ve felt it too as his fingers reach down to rub at your neglected clit once again.

Within seconds another loud and broken moan rips through the air, and shockingly its your own. As if on cue, Soobin follows right behind. His hands death grip your hips, pulling you down to the base of his cock as he spills inside you. It’s almost beautiful, the moans falling from all three of your mouths, sweat falling from your foreheads, and no more pointless arguing.

Who knew all they needed was to kiss for all of you to come, and cum, together so nicely?

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“come on, just come with me after this. I don’t wanna go alone.” Your friend, yoon, nudges you, not so discreetly chatting to you once you’re nearing the end of your two hour lecture.

Your eyes flicker from the board, which you’re still trying to concentrate on, but also, your attention is wearing thin and you’re waiting until the painfully slow last few seconds go by and it finally ends. “I don’t get it. Is this some kind of society?” You whisper back to her.

“Kinda…yeah, it’s a host club-” You don’t hear the rest of what she says, everyone starts chaotically packing up their laptops and notes, abruptly leaving the lecture hall once it ends and flooding the exits with traffic.

You do the same, and so does yoon. Once you’re out in the hallway and away from the trampling stampede, she begins animatedly trying to sell the idea to you again.

“I went to that badminton taster session for you because you wanted to go! And I got hit in the face with a racket, so that means you totally have to come with me this time.”

You sigh inconveniently, adjusting the strap of your bag higher on your shoulder. You supposed you could go to it for her, you were free the rest of the evening. “Fine, what’s it actually about again?”

She rubs at the back of her neck, pausing, looking sheepish and surprisingly hesitant for a second. Your eyebrow raises at this.

“You really don’t know? Surely you must have heard of it? It’s really popular.”

You shrug your shoulders, very intrigued. “No.”

“What rock are you living under...” Yoon exasperatedly mumbles, “Well…you know like, a normal host club? Where males entertain people with like, alcohol and pretend to be like, their boyfriends? Well….we have one. At the university. Except, it’s more like a tea-and-conversation, flirting, with the five most handsome and richest students here.”

You stop walking. She stops walking. Someone behind you nearly bumps into both your backs, giving you both an irritated glare as they walk past. You study her face, but she’s looking at you with complete sincerity. “Oh my god. You’re serious.” You start walking again, faster this time, shaking your head. “You rich people are bizarre.”

When you’d joined the university on a scholarship, you had come to find out just how terrible and outlandish these nepotism children really were firsthand. They operated on an entirely different plane of existence. This manages to top the cake though. They really do fuckall with their time, anything but actually studying. It’s not like it really matters though, they’ll still become heirs of multi-million pound companies anyway.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds. Truly!” Yoon insists, jogging to match your pace.

“How is this allowed?”

Yoon shrugs. “The creator’s family is like, the main funder of the university.”

You’re not surprised. “Of course.” You tighten your hold on the strap of your bag. “So, these people are whoring themselves out basically?” How is this ethical?

“Come on, it’s harmless and fun! It’s Furry Friday!”

“Furry…what?” You try to blink yourself awake, staring off into the end of the hallway, dissociated. Why do you even bother anymore?

“Yeah, and there’s Maid Monday too…it’s just like a cool events cafe. There’s themes. It’s cute!”

“So, do these people sleep with their guests too?” You joke, casting a sideways glance at your friend, giving up with the actual questioning of the existence of this club at a prestigious university.

Yoon looks to her left and right, covering her mouth with her hand and whispers. “Ssh. That’s more of an underground thing. They’re very selective about it and it’s superrr expensive.”

Your face drops. “What?” This is not right. You drag a hand down your face, sighing heavily. “You really want me to go to this with you?”

Your friend nods her head enthusiastically, clasping her hands together. “Please. I need to get over my last scarring situationship.”

You give your friend a pointed look. “Didn’t she like, borrow £700 off you and you never saw her again? There’s not much to get over.”

Yoon grimaces as if she’s living through it all again, not wanting the reminder. “Yes, she had some gambling issues. But, she was so perfect other than that.” Yoon sighs wistfully. “Come on, I paid for both our entry fees already. Food’s included.”

Your ears perk up at that, staring at your friend who now has a sneaky little smile creeping up on her face, knowing she’s already won. You pause. Food is included? You wouldn’t pass up on free food…Damn that your friend knows you well. You huff resignedly. “Okay…I’ll go with you.”

Yoon squeals, bringing your hands to hers and jumping up and down aggressively. “Thanks!You’re the best.”

Now, you stand in the endless queue of other students waiting to get into the club, a snake of a line going right to the end of the corridor and around the corner. It really must be popular. How had you never heard of it before? There’s a permanent sign on the door reading ‘TXT HOST CLUB’. They even have their own personal room at the university? Even from outside, you can already hear loud squealing and high pitched screams at whatever is going on in the room.

Finally, eventually, it comes to both your turns, reaching the front. Yoon shows some ticket online and you’re allowed in, the big gilded doors opening, and you’re momentarily blinded by a sudden light.

You’re not entirely sure what you were expecting, but it’s definitely not this; five guys in animal ears and paws, dancing to some girl group song on a raised platform. The spacious room is all pink with even pink marbled floor, fancy chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and ribbons and streamers decorating the walls and pillars. There’s cardboard cutouts of the members all around the room in absurd outfits, vampires, maids, fairies, princes, sanrio, mermaids, knights, traditional clothing, and more.

You’re escorted onto a free table with Yoon. Even the tables are decorated so lovely with floral lace cloth and a vase of flowers in the middle. There’s tiered cake stands with the yummiest looking sandwiches, cakes, pastries, tarts, and macarons. Laid too, are expensive-looking intricate painted tea sets and teapots. Maybe, perhaps, you could get behind this for the food.

Yoon doesn’t pay attention to anything on the table though, she’s too busy watching the performance, entirely enamoured and delighted by it, clapping and cheering them on.

“Oh, wow…” You watch it too, in disbelief, still trying to process your surroundings. All of this feels like a complete, bizarre, fever dream, but you have to admit, they were surprisingly pretty good at dancing, synchronisation quite insane for a bunch of random pompous dudes.

“I should introduce you to them all!” Yoon shouts over the music, excitedly pointing at one on the far right. “That’s taehyun! He’s super smart and stoic,” then she moves her pointed finger to the left each time, “that’s Kai he’s super sweet and cute! Oh-and that’s beomgyu he’s super emo and plays guitar, that’s soobin he’s a sweet posh boy and the president, and that’s…” Yoon sighs dreamily at the man on the far left, clasping her hands together, “that’s Choi Yeonjun. The It boy. He’s my fav. He’s such a prince.” She swoons. The poor descriptions weren’t all that insightful to you, to be honest.

Their performance ends with claps and screams, and then, you can finally tuck into the foods on the table, trying every single different assortment of pastries. The hosts had stepped off the platform, coming to the guests and their tables, speaking and chatting to them, the music lowered to soft ambient jazz. You can hear giggling… and barks and meows, and the strange things some guests are requesting for.

“Kai! Do a bark, do a bark!”

“Woof, woof!”

“Soobin, can you say that I’m your owner?”

“Beomgyu, I wanna be your pet!”

“I just wanna be your dog!”

You may have lost your appetite a little. But you try for it not to deter you.

One second, you’re looking down, scoffing the sandwiches on your plate, then you’re looking back up and you’re suddenly surrounded by the five men out of nowhere, looming over your table. You’re terrified, freezing mid-bite. Yeonjun, who you’d recognised as yoon’s favourite, comes to smoothly kiss her hand.

“Ah,” he sighs, “My lovely Yoon. Our loyal guest, will you be requesting for me again?”

Your friend is blushing and giggling, looking moments away from fainting. You raise a brow, gulping down the food in your mouth, turning your head her way with furrowed brows. “Again? I thought you’d never been here before. You didn’t want to come alone?”

Yoon coughs, embarrassed “Uhhm. Ahem. I never said I hadn’t been here before. Simply just wanted your company this time…”

You shake your head, finishing the rest of your sandwich, still feeling self conscious at the men still by your table. When were they going to leave?

“Ooh we’ve got a new guest, guys!” One of them says, noticing you, you think his name is Kai. The others lean in curiously at you, zeroing in. You feel like an animal at a zoo. This is very odd. Especially since they’re the ones still wearing pet ears and furry gloves.

Yeonjun theatrically reaches for your hand, kissing the back of yours too, grinning and winking. “Pleasure to meet you, beautiful being. I’m yeonjun. Choi yeonjun. What’s your name, pretty?”

“They look frightened…” Taehyun whispers to kai.

The rest of them introduce themselves, shaking your hand like a normal person.

Once you’re done with shoving the last bit of your sandwich down, you quickly dab around your mouth with a napkin and you abruptly rise from your seat, standing up, ready to leave. Your time here is more than done, and you so desperately want to get away from this uncomfortableness. “Well! Lovely to meet you all. Must get going haha...”

“Wait! You haven’t chosen a favourite yet!” Yeonjun stops you.

“Everyone picks one.” Beomgyu, the one with multiple facial piercings says with his hands in his pockets.

“Usually under twenty seconds.” Taehyun adds, checking his extravagant watch that probably costs more than your tuition fees. “The average is 17.83 seconds.”

“Yeah. Which one of us is the most handsome?” Soobin pushes the glasses he’s wearing gently up his nose bridge, tilting his head at you.

They all come even closer to you simultaneously, crowding you, staring at you intensely and expectantly, awaiting your answer. All of their jaws are raised up, sweeping hands through their hairs confidently, and posing for you, doing weird expressions with their faces as if they were in some modelling photoshoot.

“Um…I wouldn’t know.” They’re all very good looking. How were you supposed to choose just one? And how would you have a favourite already?

Taehyun crosses his arms. “You don’t know?”

“Just choose one! Come on!” Kai urges you, jumping on the spot.

“Yeah.” They all start saying and agreeing together, growing impatient and slightly agitated, wanting you to choose one of them already.

So, you try again, staring at each of their faces individually, trying to be pragmatic about it so you can finally get out of here. First, you analyse yeonjun, silky blonde hair, fox-like sharp eyes, piercings all on his ears. Then soobin, soft black hair, glasses, a bunny like nose and mouth, wearing a cute sweater vest. Then beomgyu, brown shaggy messy wolfcut, soft brown eyes, but dark thick eyebrows with a piercing on one of them, a dermal piercing, and lip rings too. Then at kai, fluffy white hair, angelic features overall and a pretty nose, holding a stuffed plush penguin toy in his hand. And finally, at taehyun, big round eyes, high cheekbones and a chiselled face, wearing a whole ass corporate suit for some reason.

“I really don’t know!”

“You have to. Gun to your head. Three—” Beomgyu raises three fingers.

“TWO.” All five of them start to join in, shouting in unison.

“Why are we counting?!”

“ONE.”

“ZER—”

The counting down, for some reason, and the fact that five absurdly attractive, very tall men are still crowded around you and shouting, makes you panic and stress and you feel very under pressure.

“Okay, okay! Oh-umm!-uh-Yeonjun!” You blurt out frantically. You don’t know why you say that name, you just choose the most memorable one to get them off your back.

There’s silence and the others recoil dramatically, betrayed, and they give you such disgusted looks.

“Terrible taste.” Taehyun clicks his tongue. The others are shaking their heads at you.

Meanwhile, yeonjun looks moments away from ascending, “I knew it!” Yeonjun’s eyes are practically shining, grabbing your shoulders excitedly, ecstatic and smug and violently shaking you. He runs a hand through his blonde hair once more, sighing out at himself as if he were in some sort of shampoo advertisement. “I knew you’d pick me.” He punches your arm playfully.

“Ow…” You rub at your arm to soothe it, it actually hurts. He punched you pretty hard. He looks like he’s about to hit you again in excitement, you back away as far as you can, taking a few steps back, fearfully.

You bump into something behind you. It wobbles. And that’s when you hear something smash so distinctly loud and hard onto the pink marble floor, exploding. Hesitantly, you slowly, dreadfully, turn around, thinking you already know what might have happened.

You had caused a very expensive looking sculpture of the five boys with roses in each their hands, to collapse straight onto the ground and smash into millions of smithereens, thousands of tiny little pieces scattered across and flying everywhere.

Everyone in the room turns their heads at the dissonant sound, gasping, teacups freezing halfway to their lips. You stare at the scene completely mortified. You can feel your soul departing your body, mentally already digging your grave to lie in. You could literally cry.

“Oh my god!” Yeonjun runs and drops straight down to his knees at the death of the artwork. “Our most expensive sculpture, all the way from Italy! Custom made from the renowned artist Angelo Pasquarelli, he passed away recently! This was the last remaining piece of art he ever made!”

Well, that doesn’t serve to make you feel any better. At all. You don’t even know what to do. You don’t have any parents that can pay this for you. You can’t even begin to imagine how much it actually costs and how you’ll ever be able to repay it, and how much debt you’ll be in now. “I’m so sorry! Oh my-I’m so, so, so sorry! I don’t know-i wasn’t looking where I was going.”

You can feel how ironic this is. You came here for the free food, now you’re massively in debt somehow.

Taehyun, the treasurer of the club, comes to crouch down beside yeonjun, staring at the remnants with visible pain and anguish too. “This was supposed to be an art investment for the club…I told you we shouldn’t have kept it out here in the open.” He murmurs sharply to yeonjun.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t afford to pay for this.” You admit. “I’m literally only here on a scholarship. Is there any other way I can help? I’ll do anything. Anything at all.”

“Hm. You can’t afford to repay for the damage?” Soobin raises a brow at you, thinking. He pulls the rest of the boys into a huddle. You hear intense whispering as they deliberate your fate.

Yoon panics for you, stepping in. “It’s going to be okay!” She reassures you, feeling slightly guilty as she was the one who brought you here when you hadn’t particularly wanted to in the first place. “I’ll try and pay for some of it for you!”

“No, that’s alright. They won’t have to pay for any of it. No one has to.” Soobin speaks up, all of them finally pulling apart.

You feel so relieved, clasping a hand to your heart that had minutes before giving out entirely. “Oh. Oh my god. Thank you, thank you-”

“You’ll repay us in another way.” Soobin thoughtfully explains. “Next week, the host club is holding a special events week.”

“For the first time ever,” Kai interrupts excitedly, “each host gets their own solo event where we can do whatever we want!”

Soobin nods. “Yes, we’ve never done events purely by ourselves before and we’ll need additional assistance.”

“You,” yeonjun says, flamboyantly pointing directly at you, “are going to become our assistant!”

“Monday to Friday,” Soobin confirms. “One host per day. You’ll help organise events, carry things, run errands, and deal with guests. You’ll work off your debt to the host club.”

“Just five days? That’s it?” That didn’t seem too bad at all, it’s an alarmingly good deal. You were expecting something significantly worse. How hard can it be? Only working five days to pay off the debt for a supposedly very valuable and rare sculpture? You can definitely do that. “Alright. I’ll do it.” You shake soobin’s hand, determined than ever.

“Yayy! Yippeee!” All five of the boys start clapping and cheering delightfully at you. You don’t know why they’re so happy.

“And guess what?” Yeonjun grins gleefully. “My event is the first one.” He takes your arm in his, interlocking and hooking your arms, and then completely drags you away. You throw one last pleading look at yoon through the gilded doors in case it’s the last time you ever see your dear friend again.

But she just giggles at you, calling out. “You’ll be fine. It will be fun!” She cheerfully waves at you being hauled out of the host club room.

“Woah.”

You stand in the doorway of yeonjun’s sleek studio apartment in awe, which hardly looks anything like student accommodation. You wander further inside, taking it all in. It is massive, everything down to the furniture and interior looking way too luxurious, with a fancy kitchen, living room, a big en-suite bathroom, and a walk in closet filled with designer clothes. That doesn’t seem to be enough though since there’s clothing racks near the windows too with garments, a mannequin, framed fashion sketches and artwork pinned on a wall, designer magazines stacked on a unique-looking coffee table.

It’s Buckingham Palace compared to your place. Your student accommodation was one tiny shoe box room, a shared bathroom and kitchen. But you had chosen the very cheapest you could afford.

“Do you like it? It’s a bit small. My bedroom is bigger than this in my mansion, but this is still cool and cosy.” Yeonjun stands in front of the wide floor-to-ceiling windows that showcase the city skyline. He looked genuinely apologetic about it too.

“Mansion…” You shouldn’t be so surprised by now, so many people you have met at the university do live in them, but it still manages to shock you a little no matter how many times you hear it casually mentioned.

Yeonjun turns around excitedly. “Hey, maybe we can go to my house after this and I can show you! Get you to meet my parents already, ay?” Yeonjun winks at you. “It’s just a five minute walk!”

“A five minute walk?” You gawk incredulously, “If your house is so close to campus, why would you ever waste money getting student accommodation?” It fills you more with slight disgust at the wastefulness rather than jealousy.

Yeonjun huffs. “My parents said the same thing. But I wanted to have that uni experience, you know? Plus, I needed to be more independent. It’s a good thing. That student lifestyle, it’s pretty hard sometimes.”

“So…you've achieved this student lifestyle by moving five minutes away from your mansion into a luxury apartment?” Wow, this is certainly going on the list of out of touch things you’ve heard students say.

“Yep!” The confidence with which he answers is quite commendable.

“Oh, okay, so you’re paying for it yourself?” You don’t mean to pry, you’re just genuinely trying to understand a bit.

“No…my parents pay for it.”

You nod. “Right.”

“Oh! Would you like anything to drink or eat by the way?” Yeonjun politely offers you.

“Just some water is good.”

He grabs two high-end bottled waters from his high-end fridge too and passes one to you. “Here you go.”

“Thank you.” Both of you come to plop yourselves on his sofa. “But you cook?” You ask him assumedly.

“I don’t know how. But my chefs come from the house every morning to make me meals. It’s lovely.” He obliviously beams at you, lounging comfortably against the cushions, one arm draped across the backrest.

You just nod along at this point, sipping on your water. You noted chef was plural, but you’re not sure where the independence is. “Well, anyways,”

He sits up right again, shifting closer to you, a bit too close. “Yes! Let’s plan my event.”

“So,” you say, “any ideas?”

“I already know what I want to do.” He seems very proud of this. “Fashion is my passion. Hey, that rhymes. Maybe I could be a poet too.”

“Sure.” You say tiredly, waiting for him to tell you what he’s got planned.

“Flirty Fashion Workshop.” He stares back at you expectantly, smirking like he was expecting some sort of praise for this.

Your face scrunches up. “What the hell is a ‘Flirty Fashion Workshop’?”

Enthusiastically, yeonjun explains. “They’re sewing, I’m showing them how to use the sewing machine like this-” he leans into you, placing his hands over yours as if he were showing you how to work some phantom sewing machine, feeling his breath on your neck as he guides your hands.

“Okay, I didn’t need a personal demonstration on it.” You swat his arms away.

Yeonjun shrugs but winks cheekily at you once again. “Your loss. People pay for this, y’know?” Undeterred, he continues to explain more of his idea, “I’ll make step-by-step, visual demonstrations on how to make basic articles of clothing and they can decorate it however they want with different fabrics and beads and embroidery and creativeness. I’ll come around, helping and flirting, of course. Then, once everyone is done, we’ll have a little fashion show where everyone can model and show off their work! Isn’t that so great?”

You can see the appeal for it, from what you saw earlier, you have no doubt it’ll work and keep guests very satisfied. It’ll probably be a huge success. You nod at him. “Hm. What we need first is all the equipment and materials for this then.”

Yeonjun nods too. “I’ll ask to borrow all the sewing machines from the fashion department. We just need lots of textiles and fabric, threads, scissors, pins, beads, buttons, decorative materials, and other things.”

“Where should we get all of that from?” You query.

“We’ll buy it, of course. Taehyun made a spending card for the club. Off to the city centre!”

“After you.” Yeonjun gentlemanly opens the car door for you, rushing out of his to come around unnecessarily for yours.

The walk to the city centre was just under twenty minutes, but he had insisted on his chauffeur driving you both there anyway.

Yeonjun leads you to a bustling street with independent craft & art shops and fabric markets. The energy is so totally different compared to the commercial, homogeneous high streets you’d passed on the way, it’s bright and welcoming and filled with such unique characters of shops.

First, you buy lots and lots of fabric as you’ll be needing a lot of those. He seems to really be in his element, ecstatically showing you and speaking words about materials and their compositions only someone studying fashion would know, making you touch and feel them all too.

All of the vendors even seemed to recognise him, happily greeting and conversing with him, faces lighting up whenever he walked in. Yeonjun is very chatty, talking to them all for a while. One elderly woman even abandoned a conversation halfway with another customer just to pull yeonjun in for a hug and squeeze his cheeks. He’s not just famous in the host club, you observed.

You’re trudging along countless heavy bags of materials you’ll need for the workshop by now, shoulders and arms aching, you and yeonjun exhausted, hours blurred and overloaded by endless textiles. But it was a little fun, there’s a certain beauty in watching a person be passionate about something, oddly fascinating to follow yeonjun along.

You make one final stop to buy packs of sequins, and finally, you have all the equipment you need. Both of you make a turn on a street, noticing a brightly coloured ice cream shop. All the shopping, conversing and carrying must have clearly gotten to yeonjun, he’s drawn to it instantly like a moth to a flame, trudging you along with him, allowing you little time to protest.

He’s staring at the menu in deep concentration, brows furrowed but practically salivating. “Could I have the largest tub with one scoop of tiramisu and one scoop of rose please?”

You take a little longer to decide what you’ll like, settling on the smallest tub (it’s cheaper), and ordering a scoop of strawberry cheesecake and chocolate. Before you’re about to put your own card down, yeonjun dramatically steps in, practically shoving you out of the way and slamming his own down instead. “No. It’s on me, of course. A prince never lets anyone else pay.” He puts one hand to his heart, closing his eyes like he was reciting something religious.

“Oh, thank you.”

The ice cream scooper seems more affected by the gesture than you are, completely swooning at yeonjun. “Wow, what a gentleman!”

Yeonjun giggles at the compliment. “Hehe. Thank you!”

“You’re such a handsome young man. Ah, young love. Go on, i’ll give you both an extra scoop.” They lean in over the counter, hushing.

Yeonjun gasps. “You’re so kind! Thank you so much.”

Yeonjun is giggling, the scooper is giggling back too. You’re affronted by the whole exchange. Is life just this easily kind to Choi Yeonjun? But, you say your thanks too, not complaining about more ice cream for free. Everyone seems to be absolutely smitten by this dude’s charms. Sure, he’s attractive and he’s got great social skills, but people act like he’s above human. Are they seeing something you don’t?

Eventually, you can sit down at the tables, dropping the bags to your feet. You’re in a much better mood after sitting down and once you’re eating the well deserved ice cream, the creaminess and flavour melting on your tongue, plus the fact yeonjun paid for it is a great bonus, both of you happily talking more about yeonjun’s event between spoonfuls.

“Wanna try my tiramisu flavour? Say ahhh.” Yeonjun brings his spoon to you in an attempt to feed you, a generous scoop of pale brown ice cream perched upon it.

You flat out refuse, instead, bringing your own spoon to take a swipe of his yourself. “Mm. It’s good.”

Yeonjun watches you continue to eat without offering your own. “I wanna try the strawberry cheesecake one too.” Yeonjun leans forwards, tasting yours without asking. He’d taken quite a large amount too. “Mmh! This is yummy! I must get this next time.”

“Hey, I never said you could try mine.”

“Let’s take pics of our date.” Yeonjun ignores your complaining, getting out his phone and taking a series of selfies with you.

You stop and stare at him across from you before you can take another spoon of ice cream. “It’s not a date.”

Yeonjun shrugs again, unbothered. “Did you know I have seventy percent request rate?People would pay a lot to go on an ice cream date with me.”

You set down your spoon in the tub, reminded of something you wanted to ask. You don’t get it. “Why would you make a host club when you don’t need any of the money?”

“I love entertaining people. It’s my thing. I’m good at it.” He’s not looking at you, his brows are furrowed as he tries to fish out the last bits of his rose ice cream from the edges. You’d noticed he furrowed his brows a lot when concentrating on something.

“Fair enough.” You nod in understanding, you can’t deny that. From today alone you’ve witnessed just how many people he can amuse. It seemed people easily gravitated towards choi yeonjun.

“But also I don’t have any siblings.” He pulls his full lips into a slight pout, brows further furrowed, “I always wanted one, so many of them actually. I kept begging but my parents didn’t want any more. And it got pretty lonely when they were overseas so often. I’ve always wondered what it felt like to have siblings. Now I’ve got them!”

It’s your turn to furrow your eyebrows. “By…making a host club?”

“It’s something I’ve always wanted to do. I personally sought out all the members myself. Now, they’re all like my four brothers! I cherish them and the club a lot. It’s very important to me. They’re my family.” Yeonjun warmly beams.

He has that glint in his eyes from earlier on when you were in the fabric markets, and like before you can’t bring yourself to actually hate on it, he’s clearly passionate and sincere about it, so you just hum in agreement.

“That’s actually…sorta nice, still bizarre though.”

Yeonjun grins. “Did that woo you?”

“No.”

You’re back in yeonjun’s studio apartment. It’s completely dark outside by now, the city skyline view from his big windows look different after the sun had set, now it’s all just lots of constellations of scattered lights. You sit on one end of yeonjun’s sofa in the living room with the warm glow of orange and amber lamps he’d put on instead of his main lights, playing low music in the background from his turntable, the ambience nice to focus in.

Yeonjun is on the opposite end of the sofa, a large sketch pad sitting on his lap as he draws out the step-by-step demonstrations for the simple garments, you can hear his constant scribbling from his pencil meeting paper too. You are on your laptop, currently focused on the duration and structure of what should be happening in the workshop and making a small slideshow for it.

“Does it look fine?” Yeonjun lifts his sketch pad for you to see the diagrams.

You scan the illustrations briefly. “Mhm. They’re easy to follow.”

You continue typing. By the time you finish the final slide, your shoulders ache slightly from hunching over the laptop. You lean back against the sofa, stretching your limbs, eyes drifting to the other side of the sofa. Yeonjun is still sketching, completely absorbed, eyebrows characteristically drawn together as he focuses, lips in a slight duck-like pout and his blonde hair now having more of the resemblance of honey under the colours of the lamps.

“Done admiring me? Daydreaming about kissing me?” Yeonjun looks up, lazily grinning as he notices your stare.

You heavily roll your eyes at him. “You’re not my type.”

“I’m everyone’s type.” He confidently states. You shake your head, sighing out at his ego, but he starts again, “Hey, you’re the one who picked me as the most handsome.” Yeonjun puffs out his chest, still pleased by that.

“Yeah, under duress. I only picked you because your name was the first I remembered.”

For some reason, he remains proud. “So what you’re saying is that I’m very memorable.”

You drop your head back against the sofa and the wall behind you. “Lord…”

“You’re bluffing. Bet you do actually daydream about kissing me.” Yeonjun goads. “I wouldn’t blame you.”

You snort. “Kissing? You wish.”

He places his sketch pad away from his lap and onto the part of the sofa next to him, smirking at you. “Oh, I do wish.”

You narrows your eyes at him. “Really? What about?”

He cockily moves and leans forwards, coming close to your face, his stupid smirk never leaving, humoured. “Lots and lots of things.”

You know he enjoys flirting without you doing anything back, meaninglessly flirting with you countless of times today without you reacting. You know he gets a kick out of it, so you decide to retaliate back this time, having had enough of it. If Yeonjun wants to play this game so badly, then maybe it's time somebody plays it back. You’ll see what he does then.

“You know what I think?” You grab him by the collar of his shirt, pulling his face even closer to yours, grinning yourself and making your voice sultry sounding. “I think you’re all talk. Bet you couldn’t actually even kiss me.”

He instantly pulls his face away, flustered, shocked by what you say, eyes wide, not expecting you to say something like that back to him. Especially since you hadn’t entertained anything else he’d said this entire day. “What?” Yeonjun’s face flushes immediately, turning unmistakably bright, beet red from his neck and ears too. His mouth clamps shut. And for perhaps the first time since meeting him, yeonjun seems quite speechless. The legendary flirt of the host club couldn't handle being flirted with back, he was accustomed to being the one in control of every conversation.

There’s an attempt to regain his composure though, clearing his throat and trying to confidently smile back. “I could and I would. Do you want me to?”

“Yeah. Go on then.” You challenge him, chin raised high, poking the bear with a stick.

He’s not sure if you’re serious, and yeonjun hesitates. “Fine.” He leans in, face close to yours again, staring at you falteringly with his narrowed feline eyes, but trying to make it seem formidable. Close enough once more that you can see the mole next to his eye, see the shadows the dark warm lighting casts on his cheek bones, making them that much more prominent, and smell the faint scent of his expensive cologne. You’re equally staring back with heated, daring eyes. You’re so sure you’ve won. He’s not going to do it. It’s all just talk.

Your eyes flicker down to his pouty lips, his rich, cushiony lips. They had such a pretty, distinctive shape to them that you’ve never seen before. For a small second, you wonder what they’d feel like against yours if he did actually lean in more, but you shake it away. Are you slowly being charmed too? Has he put a spell on you? Is this how he does it?

At last, yeonjun draws back, running a hand through his hair.

You’re just about to laugh in victory, knowing he’s lost, knowing his words hold no meaning to them, but then, yeonjun suddenly surges forwards, grabbing your face. His mouth mushes with yours fiercely and you gasp into it, startled. You find your lips move back with his, perhaps you’ll still win if you’re not the first to break away.

Both of you continue kissing for a long time, mouths sliding together, teeth over lips, taking it in turns to suck his bottom lip, then his upper lip. You don’t know if this is still part of the game but it’s starting to feel less significant as time goes on and your lips meet again and again, colliding with soft breaths. You’re enjoying it, yeonjun’s heavenly lips feel good on yours. You definitely feel like you’re under a spell right now, all almost hypnotic. Maybe he’s a witch. You’d like to believe that more than of your own will.

Barely an inch separates when you both pull apart for some air. Yeonjun is staring at you, entranced and dishevelled with rosy cheeks. His usually perfect hair has fallen into his eyes, and his plush lips were beyond swollen and tinted so red, all the blood vessels rupturing there from your kissing and biting. His breathing is totally uneven. The image and how stark it is makes your stomach flip and flutter.

Then, you’re kissing him again.

You’re touching and gripping onto each other’s bodies in different places as you continue to make out. Your lips reach yeonjun’s angular jaw, then down, brushing against the warm skin of his neck, leaving kisses and still being able to smell his lingering, delicious cologne that’s been able to last the whole day. He lets you, tipping his head back as his eyes flicker closed and his hold on your waist tightens.

Playfully, your hand reaches down to stroke his thigh and then his crotch, grinding the palm against the hardening dick in his pants. You like leading the whole of this, it’s amusing. Yeonjun goes completely still with a sharp, shaky intake of breath, mouth falling open. But just as you’re about to pull his dick out to actually touch him, his hand slaps against your wrist, stopping you. “N-no. Let me.”

You tilt your head. “Huh?”

“Let me eat you out.”

Wow. You thought yeonjun would just want to get his dick wet. He certainly looks like he needs a hand wrapped around it right now, but he’s offering to tend to you instead.

You shrug. “Okay.” You’re definitely not one to complain. So, you lie on your back for him.

Yeonjun sheds off all the articles of clothing of your lower half, grabbing the back of your knees to push you closer to him on the sofa. He spreads your legs, his sharp eyes heavily lidded at the sight, practically salivating. “Pretty…”

He wastes no time in diving into your pussy immediately, shoving his face in and licking up a long stripe of your cunt, before completely messily making out with your pussy, groaning and grunting against you, holding onto the flesh of your thighs tighter. You satisfyingly sigh out at the dim ceiling your eyes are fixed on before closing your eyes all together, biting your lip.

You grab ahold of yeonjun’s hair, fingers threading through the soft messy blonde locks and tugging just hard enough to make noises escape his throat in response.

Yeonjun attaches his perfect pretty lips to your clit, sucking, suctioning so vigorously until the bundle of nerves are even puffier than his lips. They feel even better on your clit, like they’re made just for that. He focuses completely on your pleasure, furrowing his brows as he eats you out, humming and whining and groaning, licking and sucking. The sounds of him smothered in your pussy are so audible, taking over the music still playing on the LP, and so obscene, so wet, you can only oddly describe it as if yeonjun is hungrily devouring a bowl of ramen, enthusiastically slurping and inhaling it all.

“Am I finally pleasing you? Weren’t pleased with anything I was doing before.” Yeonjun lifts his head up to look at you desperately and obsessively. He clearly takes this very seriously, intent on making you feel good.

“Mmh, sure. Keep going.” You don’t really care for anything he’s saying, barely listening, you’re nearly reaching the edge, so you grab more of a fistful of his hair, grinding down on his face. You guess he wasn’t wrong about being good at entertaining people.

Knowing you’re close, yeonjun brings his signet ringed fingers to your hole, quickly fucking them into you and lapping at your clit with his tongue, flicking over and over again, your slick gushing out as he does this. It manages to bring you over, thighs clenching around his face and cumming over it. You moan out loud and so does yeonjun at the view of you orgasming, nuzzling into your cunt further and licking up everything you give out.

Eventually, he lifts up from between your legs, your juices coating all around his enlarged lips, that they look like he put on some kind of really shiny plumping lip gloss. With a happy, drowsy smile, yeonjun licks it all off around his mouth. Then, licks his fingers clean off too, his family heirloom ring, dripping in your cum. Usually effortlessly confident yeonjun, looks incapable of forming any actual thought.

“Fuck me.” You tell him, looking down at the way his dick is practically crying to be let out of his pants, slight patch of precum dribbled out on it. You pull his zipper down, freeing his dick and pumping his achy red, leaky cock, rubbing your thumb over the tip and swiping at the fluid on his sensitive slit. Yeonjun curses, hips bucking and mouth hanging open, blissed out at the stimulation.

“Fuck you? Sure…Yeah… I-i can do that.” Yeonjun breathes out, so far gone already.

“You want to make me feel good, don’t you?” You spread your legs again, holding his gaze.

“Yes.” It seems to snap whatever restraint he has left. Yeonjun quickly goes to grab condoms from somewhere, nearly knocking something over in the process. When he finally gets ahold of one, he comes back, tearing the packet open with his teeth in a rush. Which you’ll admit, does something to you.

He frantically pushes the condom onto his cock, and you can only describe yeonjun’s face as purely debauched after he lines up his swollen fat tip to your pussy and pushes in, bottoming out completely, your walls sucking and swallowing him in so good, filling you up so good, both of you gutturally groaning. “Oh my g-ughh…” He moans every single time he pushes back in, mouth slack, long pretty whines and cries escaping him.

You wrap your legs tightly around his waist, pulling him closer and sheathing his dick deeper into you. Your hands slide up his back, digging your nails into the muscles there and yeonjun’s eyes nearly roll to the back of his head at that. It’s not long at all until yeonjun just completely loses himself in the feeling of you, his thrusts quickly building up in speed, slamming his hips harder and deeper, erratically.

He’s so unrhythmic with it, sloppily still trying to fuck you as his brain turns to absolute mush, he can barely do it, his pretty lips staying parted with how delirious he is. Yeonjun’s hips are practically shaking with every roll and you think he might actually fall on top of you. He tries to hold onto you, face falling into the crook of your neck, biting down there, utterly wrecked, drooling all on your neck now with muffled moans and groans.

You’ve had enough of his dumb, useless rutting, growing tired of the position. You roughly pull at his hair to bring his face back up and away from your neck. He looks at you practically cross-eyed, slurring. “Shit, you can’t even fuck me. Pull out.” You tell him.

Yeonjun panics, confused, shaking his head. “Huh? What-please, please.”

“Just pull out.”

He does as you say, whining and wailing at you like a hurt animal. You roll your eyes at his dramatics, shoving him down onto the sofa instead. “Calm down. I’m fucking you myself.”

“No, I-i can fuck you. ‘m sorry. I can do it.” Yeonjun tries to beg, profusely apologising, not wanting to feel useless to you, wanting to make you feel good, tears appearing in the waterline of his eyes from how muddled his mind is.

“Sssh. It’s okay.” You stuff two of your fingers into his mouth to shut him up, but also, wanting to watching him suck your fingers because you’re weirdly fixated on his gorgeously shaped, plump lips now. The sight of him sucking with sparkly tearful eyes is so hot and debasing.

Pulling your fingers out of his mouth, you straddle yeonjun, grabbing his dick. You place it at your entrance and unceremoniously sit down on the whole of his dick fast in one go, taking him all in to the hilt, until your hips meet his. It knocks the air out of yeonjun, theatrically throwing his head back and it has you sighing in pleasure at having his cock inside you again, stretched out at a more delicious angle.

You hold onto his abdomen, swivelling your hips around him and then beginning to ride him as yeonjun moans and mewls out so brazenly loud. “You need me to fuck you, baby. Don’t you?”

“Yeahyeah-mmm.” Yeonjun is fickle as shit, not complaining at all once he feels your pussy, in fact, he likes it more now since he’s not doing any of the work.

You lift yourself off and slam back down, bouncing on him faster and faster at an unrelenting pace and yeonjun just lays there underneath you, looking pretty and almost doll-like with his blushed cheeks and glossed lips in the shape of an ‘o’, happily taking it all in pure ecstasy, tongue lolling out and contently moaning high pitched like a girl.

You can’t help but chuckle at the view of yeonjun beneath you, brushing a strand of damp hair from his sweat-beaded forehead. “You’re more like a princess than a prince, yeonjun. Maybe you should be the princess’s host club instead.”

You thought he might objectify but yeonjun just mindlessly nods. “Kay…long as you’re still fucking me.”

You giggle, bringing your hand to the side of his hot face, stroking your thumb sweetly on his cheek. “You like being taken care of by me?”

Yeonjun nods, preening into your touch, purring like a cat. “Uh huh.”

You can feel yeonjun’s dick twitching uncontrollably inside of you. “Aww, princess, are you close?” You teasingly coo.

Yeonjun helplessly whimpers. “Yes, so close. Kiss me.”

You tut at him. “You’re not even going to ask nicely? What a spoilt princess.” But you do it anyway, leaning down, capturing his addictive lips with yours, kissing him hungrily, filthily, tongues tangling and swirling together as you ruthlessly ride him, both your brains clouded up by the other, sucking on his tongue nastily too. You clench down on yeonjun’s cock purposefully and he satisfyingly cries into your mouth, you swallowing down all his needy sounds.

You continue to bounce wetly on yeonjun’s girthy cock, going up and down at a mercilessly cruel speed as it creates sticky squelchy sounds, fucking the life out of him whilst his cries accelerate, your ass smacking his full balls every single time, grabbing his shoulders hard to hold onto as you do this, intent on reaching both your highs.

“Ohhhmy god. I’m cummingg!” Yeonjun cums first with garbled, mangled, pornographic whines, spilling his seed and filling the condom with his white gooey substance, back lifting off the sofa and arching as he sees stars everywhere. He pants and heaves, throwing an arm over his face at the overwhelming sensation, trying to come back down to earth, going boneless, feeling like a pile of nothingness, like melted ice cream in the sun.

You continue to use his spent dick, so close to your own orgasm too, so in reach as you keep jumping on his cock hard, reaching up in a gummy spot inside of you, prodding it every time so good, eyes squeezed shut in complete bliss, sweating so much, thighs aching. You don’t stop though, bringing your hand to rub at your clit too and you’re quickly able to let go, cumming around yeonjun’s twitching dick. You stay there, riding the after waves of it, slowly still moving on yeonjun’s cock, trying to prolong it until you can’t anymore and it stops feeling good.

You collapse on top of yeonjun’s body, utterly exhausted, allowing him to weakly grab and cling onto you as you both drift off.

“Shit, yeonjun. Wake up.” You attempt to shake yeonjun.

Both of you had managed to pass out on the sofa until the next day after the event planning had very abruptly turned into something else entirely. And now, you’re running a little bit late to set everything up for the workshop, neither of you remembering to set an alarm.

Yeonjun stirs in his sleep but doesn’t wake up, pouting with knitted eyebrows.

“Yeonjun.” You shake his shoulders more aggressively, shoving him.

“It’s too early.” He whines.

“No it’s not. Check your phone.”

He groans, but reaches over to grab his phone, checking the time with one eye open. “Oh. We have to go already.”

“Yeah.”

He gets up and so do you, quickly getting ready the best you can, grabbing the bundles and armfuls of supplies of everything you need and running over to the host club room.

Both of you rush to get everything prepared, checking the number of attendees, placing all the supplies each person and table will need, such as needles, measuring tapes, embroidery, fabric, scissors, pins. You make sure the screen and PowerPoint is up and ready. Yeonjun had gone to the printer to make individual copies of the demonstrations so everyone has one on a table. The sewing machines also needed to be carried one by one, all the way from the fashion department building and back to where the host club room is, which takes a considerably long time and effort. By the fifth trip, your arms genuinely felt like they were going to fall off.

The room was finally ready, guests would start arriving any minute. You collapse into a chair, yeonjun dropping down on the one next to you.

And the event goes satisfyingly well. As you had expected, the guests love the idea, following the steps and learning how to sew simple clothes, particularly loving when yeonjun comes around to flirt individually and help with the sewing machines, giggling and blushing into their sleeves. As the assistant, you go around table to table, checking in and giving extra supplies when guests need them, making sure everything is running and working the presentation on the projector as yeonjun confidently talks and teaches. You have to admit, It feels nice and rewarding to watch the whole event actually come to together after planning it for a long while yesterday and seeing everyone enjoy it.

Yeonjun insists on you being his model, wanting to make a top fitted for your measurements.

You groan. “Why do I have to be it, though? There’s plenty people who would love to be your model.”

“You’re my assistant, so you’re my model. Plus, you’re gorgeous enough.” Yeonjun deviously winks, corners of his mouth curling upwards.

You shake your head and defeatedly sigh. You thought his flirting would stop after you had retaliated back, but he’s flirting even more.

You don’t have much of a choice in being his model, so you stand before him, letting him get to work. You get to see his fashion designing skills in action, he’s very focused, a measuring tape draped around his neck, pin held between his lips, catty eyes squinted in concentration, measuring, cutting, seeing, creating the top and then decorating it. It’s a very pretty beaded, well fitted top with a gaping heart hole. There’s tiny red crystals, sequins and beads on the edges of the heart, cascading downwards like dripping blood, elegant and slightly unsettling. He even manages to make one for himself in the short time frame, making a matching one with a similar concept for himself. His featuring a similar heart motif, though slightly larger, with black crystal embellishments spreading across the chest like fractured veins.

Once everyone is done creating their pieces, there’s music playing on speakers as everybody shows off what they made, walking down the makeshift platformed stage acting as a runway, all the guests cheerfully, clapping and supporting each other, the lovely atmosphere is infectious. Yeonjun grabs your wrist to walk down the runway together, yeonjun ridiculously posing as guests scream and whistle so loud, losing their minds and you do the same, posing, actually having fun.

The aftermath of the event looks significantly less glamorous, the room is a beyond mess, looking like some sort of natural disaster had taken place in it, and unfortunately, both you and yeonjun have to be the ones to tidy and put everything away. The sewing machines nearly killing you off yet again when you have to return them all back to their home.

“Ice cream?” Yeonjun suggests once you’re finally done with clearing the room.

“Yes.” You immediately agree, tired eyes lighting up.

You don’t bring yourself to complain about getting yeonjun’s chauffeured car to the ice cream shop, despite how within walking distance it is, every muscle in your body so sore. You order the tiramisu flavour and yeonjun gets the strawberry cheesecake, swapping ice creams, having liked what the other got more last time.

Yeonjun jokingly offers you a scoop of his ice cream again to feed it to you, holding it out across the table for you. “Say ahh.”

You narrow your eyes, but challengingly accept, eating it just to watch the shocked expression appear on yeonjun’s face as he hadn’t expected you to actually let him feed you. But then, the stunned reaction changes, the idiot is glowing, widely smiling.

“You’re helping with soobin’s event tomorrow.” Yeonjun says after a bit, resting his chin in his hands and smiling at you across the table.

You had almost forgotten that this wasn’t the end, and only the start. Four more events remained, and four more hosts. The thought alone was exhausting. Tomorrow would be soobin's event and you had absolutely no idea what it would involve.

“Hopefully, you don’t like him as much as you like me.” Yeonjun jokes, but keeps his eyes still lingering on you, something almost faintly wistful about it, though he’s still smiling.

Now that you’ve come to think of it, you’ll never likely be working with yeonjun again after this, feeling the tiniest bit melancholic about it. But you snort anyway. “Who said I liked you?”

“You have to have liked me a little, otherwise sleeping with me would have been a very strange decision on your part.” Yeonjun raises a brow at you, grin only deepening.

You laugh despite yourself and so does yeonjun.

“Unless,” he adds, placing a hand over his chest in wounded exaggeration, “the sex was bad and you like me even less now, which would be quite sad.” A dramatic pout pulls at yeonjun’s lips.

As bizzare as yeonjun is, you supposed you get how people can be charmed and pulled in by this man now, because you do find you’re no different than anybody else who likes him anymore.

Please actually reblog !!!!!! and leave comments !!!! guys if you like the fic. It’s really appreciated and so nice tysm !<3🙏💕🌷It’s incredibly discouraging and disappointing when fics have such little reblogs. At least send an anon in the inbox if you don’t want to rb, don’t just like. Feedback is always appreciated it makes writers want to actually write more :)

A/n: I’m so sorry if this is shit and everyone hates it 🤣🤣 Im too scared to read it all back and then change it all and never post it 🤣🤣 i kinda hate this sm. yes I am aware the ending is so poorly written 🤣 Ughh i do have a love hate relationship w this bc I do feel I could have done it wayy better but I just don’t think I would have ever actually posted it so I’m making my peace. but ayyy yeonjun debut on my blog ! I actually have another fic idea for jjun that I want to write so badly too

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• he doesn't say anything that evening. he's buzzing, but he hugs the members, thanks the staff, goes through the motions. but his eyes keep finding you in the crowd backstage, and there's a new, profound heat in his gaze.

TENSION SO THICK, YOU COULD CUT THROUGH IT.

• it starts subtle. i mean, he’s always been touchy, but now his hands linger on your hips, your lower back, with a different kind of purpose. when you’re cooking in his dorm, he’ll come up behind you, wrap his arms around your waist, and just rest his chin on your shoulder, his palms spread wide over your stomach. he doesn’t say a word. he just… holds. like he’s imagining it rounded with his child.

• he starts buying things. not baby things—that would be insane—but family things. a ridiculously soft, large blanket "for movie nights." two matching, sturdy coffee mugs. he looks at apartments with an extra room, "for an office or something."

• the dirty talk shifts. it used to be about how good you felt, how pretty you looked. now, it’s laced with something deeper, more primal. "you take me so well, fuck, you feel like home." "i could stay inside you forever." once, in a haze of pleasure, he groaned, "you'd be so beautiful pregnant," and immediately clammed up, as if he’d revealed a state secret.

• watching and taking care of yoojun for a hundred days unlocked a specific, visceral kink: breeding. he never expected himself to be into something like that. he thought of finishing inside you is a sacred, claiming act of creation. the risk, the potential, is the biggest turn-on of his life.

• he becomes obsessed with your cycle. he’d never ask, but he notices the subtle signs. he even downloaded a tracker app. when you’re tired and crampy, he’s unbearably tender, massaging your belly with a warm palm. when he suspects you’re ovulating, or the app tells him so, he’s a different being—possessive, insatiable, his touches loaded with a desperate, hungry intent.

• he stops pulling out. it happens the first time after the music core win. he holds you down through his climax, burying himself to the hilt with a guttural groan, and stays there, panting against your neck. the silence afterwards is thick with what he’s just done. the unspoken question hangs in the air: was that okay? the answer is in the way you cling to him, in the lack of protest.

IS THIS A DREAM?

• it’s a quiet night at his place. you’re curled up watching the parenting diary episode on his laptop. he’s pretending not to watch you watch it.

• on screen, he’s making yoojun laugh, tossing him gently in the air. you let out a soft, "aww, he’s so cute with you."

• that’s the trigger. he quietly takes the laptop, closes it, and sets it aside. his movements are deliberate. he turns to you, cups your face, and kisses you. it’s not hungry at first. it’s devastatingly sweet, full of the emotion he saw on screen.

• "i want that," he murmurs against your lips, his voice thick. "ours. i want to see you holding our baby after a win. i want to come home to you both."

the confession hangs there. it’s huge. it’s terrifying. it’s the hottest thing he’s ever said.

• the sex that follows is slow, deep, and unbearably intentional. every kiss, every touch, every thrust is infused with that yearning. he makes love to you with his eyes open, watching every flicker of emotion on your face.

• he guides your legs up over his shoulders, changing the angle, going deeper. "right here," he breathes, his rhythm becoming focused, potent. "this is where i’d put my baby in you."

• when he gets close, his composure cracks. the sweet, yearning boy is swallowed by the primal man. his thrusts become urgent, erratic. his fingers dig into your hips hard enough to bruise.

• "gonna put a baby in you," he chokes out, a ragged, desperate promise. "gonna see your belly swell with me. please. let me. i need to." it’s half plea, half vow.

• he comes with a broken sob, collapsing over you, his body trembling not just from release, but from the sheer magnitude of his want. he doesn’t move, keeping you pinned, filled, as if willing his desire into reality.

• later, wrapped around you in the dark, his hand splayed possessively over your lower stomach, he whispers the most vulnerable thing of all: "would you? someday? with me?" it’s no longer just a kink. it’s a dream, and he’s handing you his heart, hoping you’ll choose to build it with him.