#sub yeonjun

“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 fifteen 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, acting like he was some sort of long lost son of theirs whenever he stepped into a different shop. 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 lugging 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 weighted 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, wriggling the spoon around your face, 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 a 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 melted 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, continuing, 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 any of this being 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 record player, 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 all on him. 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 need me to fuck you, baby. Don’t you?” 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.

“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, leaning 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 and yeonjun just lets you, his lips bitten raw, 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 throbbing overstimulated 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.

The 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, dragging a hand down his face. “Ugh. 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 and slither to the ground.

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, seeing everyone enjoy it after planning it for a long while yesterday.

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 as his eyes rake over you.

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

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, it’s a little endearing, measuring tape draped around his neck, pin held between his lips, catty eyes squinted in concentration. Yeonjun measures, cuts, sews, 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 loud 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 quite infectious. Yeonjun grabs your wrist to walk down the runway together, yeonjun ridiculously posing, hands on his hips, flicking nonexistent long hair as guests scream and whistle so concerningly loud, losing their minds. You do the same, posing too, actually having fun as yeonjun does jazz hands around you.

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 long journey home.

“Ice cream?” Yeonjun suggests once you’re finally done with clearing the room, panting and sweat ridden from all those cursed sewing machines.

“Yes.” You immediately agree, tired eyes lighting up, wiping sweat off your forehead yourself.

You don’t bring yourself to complain about getting yeonjun’s chauffeured car to the ice cream shop now, 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 burst into laughter despite yourself, and so does yeonjun.

“Unless,” he adds, placing a hand over his chest in wounded exaggeration, “the sex was so 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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"i missed you," he whispers against them. you didn't think you were gone that long, but knowing how clingy your boyfriend is, he likely thinks it was a lifetime. one of his hands leave your wrists to hold your face in his hands as he leans in to kiss you tenderly. his lips sliding with yours with ease.

"i wasn't gone that long." you whisper back when he pulls back to look at you with hearts in his eyes. his thumb caresses the skin under your eye as he ignores what you said and goes back in for another kiss, heavier than the other.

you allow him to kiss you into his hand starts to sneak under your shirt, sliding up your thigh and right before he could hit fabric you stop him. "wait- you should shower too." you free your other hand from his grip and place it against his chest, pushing him back.

he resists, pushing against your hand to get closer to you. "yeah, but it's probably too muggy in there right now." he stares at your lips as he talks, hand sliding back under your t-shirt. you don't have time to stop him as his fingertips brush against lace.

yeonjun pauses for a second before he starts to fiddle with the material. he can feel his dick start to fill out as he realizes what it is, swallowing harshly. you sit up, yeonjun falling back and sitting on your thighs, almost in your lap. he slowly starts to lift the shirt, shedding it off completely, and revealing your body and the lingerie that clung tight to your body.

his eyes go wide as he reveals it, it wasn't one that he's seen before. this one was white with pink trim and bows that was much more revealing than the others you've put on. his breathing gets shaky as he traces the thin string that goes across your hip, licking his suddenly dry lips when he comes to conclusion that means there's nothing covering the back.

as he moves up to the tiny bralette that hardly contained your breasts, his cock was reaching full hardness and pushing against his sweats. he had to bring his other hand to between his legs, palming himself with a sigh.

"s-so pretty," he practically moans as he cups one in his hand and at the same time cups himself. you smile as you watch him admire your body. both of hands were on you now as his hips twitched involuntarily against nothing. one roamed your waist and the other was on your chest.

you draw his attention away from your body to look at you, pulling his face up by the chin. his pupils were blown and he looked like he could drool, his lips wet with saliva. "is my body the only thing that's pretty?" you ask.

yeonjun flusters, his face turning pink as he blinks rapidly. "n-no, that's not what i'm trying to say. it's just-" he squeezes your waist as he tries to find words, his brain too distracted with the image of you in the lingerie among with other things. "i wanna fuck you in it…" he mumbles, his eyes dropping in embarrassment and his cheeks turning a shade darker.

"yeah?" you drawl, tapping his chin gently and making his eyes find yours.

"yeah," he whines. his cock was aching at this point, straining against his clothes and he was sure he was also leaking precum. his eyes flutter as you press a hand to his face and drag your thumb along his unblemished skin. he breathes heavily, "can i?"

hooking your finger into yeonjun's shirt, you lean backwards onto the bed and take him with you. he hovers over you, your lips almost touching with how close you were to each other. you could feel every breath he takes fan across your face. his eyes flicker between looking at you desperately and at your lips that he so badly wanted to kiss.

"please," he whines, hands gliding along your sides and occasionally sliding under your bralette. you could feel his dick pressing against your stomach, it was warm and twitched as you teased him. leaning in like you were going to kiss him, but pulling away when your lips would brush.

he lets out an impatient whine with a huff, attempting to lean in himself. he gets denied, your palm coming up to cover his mouth.

"patience," you say, slowly moving your hand out of the way. he starts to complain, but shuts up when you pull him down to bring your lips together. he moans when they connect, eagerly parting his lips to deepen the kiss. he feels tingles go down his body as you lick his bottom lip, asking for access to his mouth. he allows it, sliding his tongue with yours in a sloppy kiss.

yeonjun hadn't even realized that he started grinding against you, slow thrusts that made his cock drag sweetly along your stomach. his breath hitches as he starts to get lost in the pleasure, his lips faltering as he moans into your mouth instead.

"someone's enjoying themselves," you bite his lip and yeonjun moans, his hips stuttering.

"i-i'm sorry, it feels so good…" he drags his words as he doesn't stop moving, his eyes squeezed shut now. he could feel a patch of stickiness in his pants from the precum, making the glide a little smoother.

"how about," you start, reaching a hand down to hold him by the hip and stop him from grinding against you. he whimpers and with weak attempts, tries to keep going. he looks at you with 'sad' eyes, his lips poking out into a pout. "how about, you make me feel good first and i'll think about letting you fuck me." you repeat now that you had his attention.

yeonjun could feel his heart speed up at the thought of being able to do that while you were still wearing the lewd clothing. he nods his head rapidly and makes his way down, settling between your legs. he doesn't need you to say anything for him to understand what you meant, he was always eager to please you anyway.

he massages your thighs, touching everywhere before skimming them over the lace material. he takes his time, kissing the skin around where he wanted to be. leaving small hickeys and bite marks on your thighs and hips, his fingers likely leaving fingerprints with how tight he gripped them in excitement.

he licks his lips before pulling the panties to side and revealing your pussy. he moans and wastes no time diving in, licking a strip between the folds. your back arches off the bed and your fingers slide into his dark hair as his tongue finds your clit, flicking it gently before sucking on it.

"ngh," his moans are muffled as he buries himself between your legs, tongue dipping inside you as he hungrily laps you up. he flips between slowly working you over with his tongue and latching onto your clit with vigor.

you wouldn't complain. your head was thrown back, legs twitching at his sides, fingers planted in his head as you moan praises that only spur him on. you couldn't even catch your breath, yeonjun curling his tongue just right. you could feel your orgasm crash down on you, loudly moaning as you cum into his mouth. yeonjun happily licks it up with a moan, grinding against the bed while doing so.

he rises up from his spot, coming up to be eye level with you. you peek your eyes open and see a smiling yeonjun, lips slick and nose wet. "how was that, worthy enough to let me fuck you?" he asks, pressing his cock against you.

"please?" he pleads, his tone a little whiny.

you reach down between the two of you and cup his cock through his pants. yeonjun gasps, his hips jerking into your touch, his eyes rolling back at the friction. you rub his length slowly, circling a finger around his tip that was outlined by precum.

"show me how bad you wanted it," you whisper into his ear, making him shiver and almost cum. he wouldn't admit that though.

"y-yes, thank you…" he mutters, sitting back to remove his clothing. he bites his lip as he lines himself up with your entrance, breathing harshly through his nose. his hands roam your body as he slowly starts to push inside, he was trembling.

then he starts to move, taking a hold of your hips and snapping forward in one fluid motion. the sound of skin slapping against skin loud as he bottoms out inside of you. both of you moan at the same time, yeonjun's head drops onto your shoulder, panting against your collar.

"fuck," he whines, fingers clawing at your sides as he builds a steady rhythm. he pins you down as he drives his cock into you, deeper with each stroke. "you feel so good, look so good, i love it." he rambles, gasping in between, lost in the pleasure.

he sits up to be able to admire you again, that cursed lingerie that has him losing his mind. he slides a hand under the bralette, squeezing a breast in his warm hand. you tilt your head back, moaning loudly as yeonjun manages to hit every spot that has your body tingling.

you wrap a hand around his neck, pulling him down into a messy kiss. more teeth clashing and saliva swapping than anything as your tongue tangle together. you swallow up each others moans and gasps, as yeonjun slams into you.

"b-baby i-" he chokes out between kisses. his hips start to stutter as he feels his orgasm start to build. he moves slower, not wanting to cum just yet, not without you saying he could. his thrust are still intense as you languidly rocks into you, cock dragging against your walls. "i'm gonna cum-" he whimpers.

"can i cum, please?" he moans, voice cracking as you squeeze around him. you nod, curling your fingers into the hair that resided on the nape of his neck.

he repeats his gratitude, little thank yous as he starts to pick up the pace again. he can't contain his sounds, eyes roaming your body and dropping down to watch the way his cock drives into you. he relishes in the way it punches little gasps from you.

his mouth falls open on a moan, his eyes squeezing shut as he loses words. he can only get out a strained, "cumming." as he stills with a final thrust, shooting ropes of cum deep inside of you. long whines are pulled from him as he rides his high, grip bruising.

as he comes down, he leans down to leave kisses and love bites all over you. some across your stomach, on your chest, a couple on your neck, until he finds your lips and kisses you deeply. he pulls back with a breathy laugh, shaking his head side to side.

"what?" you question, caressing his sweaty and flushed face.

"no more lingerie, okay?"

© lucidwntrr est. 2025 - please do not steal, repost, or copy !

Choi Yeonjun

You already had an idea that your boyfriend liked it when you took control. He always waited for you to initiate things, until you decided you were gonna tease it out of him. You traced a finger along his jaw and purred softly, "Yeonjun... My pretty boy." His eyes flickered from your lips to your eyes. "Y-yes, babe?" Blush crept onto his cheeks and nose. You leaned close to his ear, your voice dropping to a whisper. "Tell me, baby, what do you really want me to do to you?" He swallows hard. He let out a shaky whine. "want you to choke me, I want you to be rough..." he practically moans when he feels your hands creep up to the sides of his neck, pressing light pressure on his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. "Like that baby?" You say on his lips, pulling your hands off his neck, getting a needy whine in response, "yes babe!"

Choi Soobin

“Baby... I've been thinking about this a lot, and I want to try something with you." Soobin says softly while hugging you from behind. You hum a yes at him. "I want you to be mean to me and take control, you know?" he says, kissing your cheek. You turn around to look at him, giving him a soft kiss. You smirk, tilting your head. “Hmm, you want me to be mean, huh? Guess I’ll have to find out just how much you can handle.” You trace a finger along his jaw. He bites his lip, cheeks pink, heart pounding. You cup his face softly, looking into his eyes. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take care of you.” Your thumb brushes his cheek. “You’re safe with me—and I’ll make sure you feel every bit of what you want.”

Choi Beomgyu

You and Beomgyu were play fighting, he was on top of you at the moment, with a shit-eating grin like he had already won, but you were able to hook your leg around his, using your arm for leverage, flipping the roles. You were on top of him, you pinned his arms down so he couldn't grab you. "I got you now..." You say, slightly out of breath. You don't get any response out of him. Beomgyu's cheeks flush red, slightly struggling to move under you. "What do you think you're doing, baby?" You giggle, you feel his growing hardness on your thigh, "Babe..." Beomgyu practically choked. You let go of his wrists and got off him, "Babe? Did I go too far?" You sat next to him on the floor, he sat up, his ears red. "Babe… uhm... That was kinda hot? Can we... do that like… in bed... you know, without the wrestling..."

Kang Taehyun

Every time you and Taehyun had sex, something felt missing. Taehyung didn't last long; he doesn't get as excited as you did, and he never initiated it. It makes you feel like he doesn't want to have sex, so you question it... "Taehyun? Baby? Can we talk…?" You sit next to him, putting your hand on his thigh, making him jump slightly. "Yes, baby?" He softly mumbles. "Do you not like our sex?" You say, sounding truly hurt. "H-huh?" Taehyun stammers out, clearly taken aback. "Baby no! I love our sex it's just... uhm—" He looks away, playing with the hem of his hoodie. "What is it?" You say, getting a little defensive. "Baby I- Its just... I would just... prefer if you took control, its not like- I- you get what Im saying right..?" He pouts, grabbing your hand hoping you understand him. "Babe, why didn't you just say that from the beginning?" you immediately soften up, squeezing his hands gently, "It's okay baby, i want you to be happy... Im so proud that you told me this." you say before giving him a soft kiss.

Huening kai

you still want to do whatever you can to help him, making him warm meals and washing his hair when he’s too tired to do it himself. tonight, you’ve decided to keep him warm and cozy on the couch, bundled up in blankets while you guys watch his comfort movies. you check on him every so often, glancing at him. sometimes he smiles, and very rarely he lets out a small chuckle, but it’s obvious he’s barely focused on the tv. the next time you look at him, his eyes are on the ground and he’s lost in thought.

“yeonjunie?” you call out, and his eyes flick over to you like he forgot you were in the room. he looks so tired, it breaks your heart, so you slide a little closer to him and rub his back gently. “would you like to do something else?” but you’re not really sure what you would do instead—you’ve fed him and ran him a warm bath already. 

yeonjun shakes his head and mumbles, “this is fine, i’m sorry.” 

you shake your head as well, running your fingers through his hair and smiling when he melts into the touch. “you have nothing to be sorry for. we can do whatever you’d like.”

“just wanna be close to you.” his voice is so soft and sweet, eyelids low and blinks slow, and his lips are fixed in a pout.

“okay, we can do that.” you snuggle up closer to him. his skin is soft and scented from the bath, and you place a kiss against his neck appreciatively. his breath hitches, so you do it again and again until he’s breathing quickly. you stop and look at him when his hand comes up to grab your arm gently.

“i’m sorry, yeonnie. did i go too far?”

he shakes his head again. “it’s not that. i wanna be with you, i just don’t know if i can…” he trails off. it seems like he has more to say, but he doesn’t open his mouth again, so you work with what he gave you. 

“d’you want me to touch you?” 

he shakes his head, buries his face in your neck, and wraps his arms around your torso. “no, wanna hold you.” you hum and think in silence while rubbing his back again.

“we can try cockwarming, if you’d like,” you suggest. it’s come up in conversation before, something you two could do if you want to be intimate but aren’t physically up for sex, but you’ve never actually done it before. “would you like that, sweetie?” yeonjun’s hair tickles your skin when he nods. you smile, happy to be able to offer him some help. 

per your request, he pulls his member through the fly of his loose boxers. the couch-side table has a drawer with emergency lube in it, so you pull that out while yeonjun is getting himself settled. you lay in front of him, and he hides his face in your neck again as you slowly stroke his dick, getting it nice and wet. he makes little sounds, and his hips twitch, but he doesn’t move other than that. 

you don’t wanna leave the warm blankets to take off your clothes, so you lift your t-shirt up and pull your panties to the side. it’s a little bit of a struggle, but eventually, yeonjun’s head pokes against your opening. you keep your leg draped over his hip, your knee pressing against the back cushion, and yeonjun lets out a small whimper as you guide him in.

“this okay?” you ask once your hips are flush against his, and he nods again. you settle into all of the feelings—the soft scent of yeonjun’s hair (he used your blueberry shampoo), the dim lighting from the movie still playing on the tv, the rise and fall of yeonjun’s chest against your body—and everything is so tender and safe.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

the two of you stay like that for a while. the movie you had on has gone off, and another one auto-played. the volume’s low, lulling you into a dreamy state, and you almost fall asleep, but the sound of your own involuntary moan clears the fog from your mind. 

yeonjun’s arms are wrapped around your body in what you previously thought of as a warm embrace, but soon realize is him holding you in place as his hips jerk into your own. his thrusts are uncoordinated and shallow, but they pull another moan from you as you feel his cock sliding against your walls.

“jjunie,” you call out, but he doesn’t answer. his breath is quick and harsh when it hits your skin, and you realize he’s asleep. you run your hand through his hair again, and his head falls back weightlessly. his eyes are squeezed shut and his cheeks are puffy, proving your point. you mean to make a noise of endearment, but it comes out as a whimper as your walls flutter around him. you’re so wet you can hear it, and you figure you must’ve leaked a lot to accommodate the weight of yeonjun in your cunt. 

his lips are still fixed in a pout, and you’re overcome with the need to kiss them, but he’s still a bit too far down. you settle for running your thumb across them and debate whether to wake him up or not. part of you wants to let him sleep because you know how tired he is. another part of you feels bad for him, wants to fuck him (and be fucked) properly, so he can actually get some rest. 

yeonjun’s lips part from your touch, breaking the barrier that’s holding back his noises. his grip on your torso gets tighter, pulling you closer to him as small gasps and whines tumble from his mouth. his thrusts are harsher, shaking your body, but still shallow and awkward, and you can tell he’s getting frustrated by the way his eyebrows are furrowed. 

you decide enough is enough – the poor baby obviously needs your help. you reach your hand down to halt the movement of his hips. he’s flush against you, and still weakly trying to thrust, but you hold his hip in place and pepper kisses along his forehead. he seemingly gives up, hips settling for grinding against you. 

“yeonnie,” you call out, swallowing down another moan and shaking him delicately. he stirs. “wake up, sweetie.” eventually his eyelids lift and his pretty eyes peek out, and you smile warmly at him. “need help?”

he follows your eyes down to where your cores are connected, and even in the dim lighting you can see his face redden. his hips stop grinding into yours.

“shit, ‘m so sorry.” his voice is thick with sleep and hushed from embarrassment. you giggle.

“that’s alright,” you say. “you didn’t answer my question.”

“uh– i’m not sure,” he says, but his hips are twitching again. your walls squeeze around him, and his eyes shut tightly. “i’m not…can’t hold myself up.”

“that’s okay. i can do all the work for you, jjunie.” you hold his hips as you slide him out of you, and he lets out a breathy moan. 

“oh, my,” you breathe out, because there’s so much liquid. yeonjun’s cock is coated in the sticky, white fluid, a mix of your wetness and yeonjun’s precum.

“fuck,” yeonjun breathes out. you look at him, and he looks up at you, but his eyes fall back down to the vulgar sight. the sight of his dick twitching, leaking more precum out of the tip, springs you into action. you lift up from the couch to hover above yeonjun’s hips, giving him a few seconds to lay on his back. in the meantime, you slide your wet panties off. when he’s all settled, you straddle his hips and grind your wetness against his length.

“mmh~ y/n,” he moans breathily over the sticky, wet sounds, and his hands come to rest on your hips.

“does this feel good?” you ask around your own breathless noises. 

“y-yea, but i’m g-gonna cum.”

“don’t wanna cum, jjunie?” 

he shakes his head against the couch, roughing up his hair. “wanna feel you again, w-wanna be inside you.”

on a different day, you might’ve made him cum like this then fucked him, but he’s in such a tender headspace, and you don’t wanna push him too far. you stop the movements of your hips and instead lean down to press a gentle kiss on his lips. he’s kissing you back immediately, and his hold on your hips tightens as he grinds into you.

you pull away from the kiss and say with a smile, “thought you wanted to stop that.”

“feels good, ‘m so hard,” he says. you move a little lower, straddling his thighs instead, and take his member into your hand. you stroke it a few times, slowly. his hips try to thrust into the touch, but your weight is holding him down. he whines in discontent.

“y/n– please don’t t-tease me, i c-can’t take it.” 

you hum at that and kiss his cheeks in apology. you lift your hips and align his tip with your opening. you both groan when you bottom out, and yeonjun nearly sinks into the couch cushions.

yeonjun’s going to slip into subspace. you can tell from the way his eyes are already glazing over and his hands are laying uselessly by his sides. you lift them up to lay them by his head instead, and hold yourself up by pushing them into the cushion. his finger twitches, and you lean down to kiss it gently. 

“gonna move now, okay, sweetie?” 

he nods, staring at you in wonder. you give him another smile and slowly lift your hips, sliding until his head is hooked on your entrance. you whimper at the feeling, but it goes unheard under yeonjun’s breathy whine. you slide down again and build a pace.

“fuck, you’re so warm and s-soft and–” his words fall off as your pace quickens. he’s so pretty, body rocking up and down against the couch as you bounce on his cock, and his hips buck up to meet you halfway. his eyes stay on you even though it looks like he’s struggling to keep them open, and his hands repeatedly ball into fists just to unravel. “so good, it’s so g-good, not gonna last long.”

you’re angling him to hit your sweet spot dead-on, and you’re not gonna last long yourself watching yeonjun fall apart below you. he’s usually more composed to this, but he babbles the most when he’s in subspace, feeling so many emotions and needing to tell you, needing to let you know that–

“i’m gonna– cum, fuck, n/n, don’t stop, please, don’t–” only then do his eyes squeeze shut, mouth hanging open and hips meeting you halfway as you send him over the edge. he’s still fucking up into you, even as his noises raise in pitch and his hips jerk from overstimulation, until you’re reaching your own high, moaning out praises just for his sweet ears. 

it takes every ounce of strength left in your body to not collapse on top of him. his hips are still twitching, and he whines as you slide him out of your heat.

“are you with me, yeonnie? can you look at me?” you ask when his eyes don’t open. they flutter open prettily as soon as you ask, though. they’re still spacey, his mind still a bit far away, so you pepper kisses along his torso while he comes to. his fingers come down to tap on your thigh, grabbing your attention, and when you look up at him, he puckers his lips.

“aw, you want a kiss?” you ask joyfully, so endeared by him, and you give him another gentle one since he’s still fragile. “was that all okay?” you ask after pulling away, rubbing your thumb along his cheek. he nods. “think you’re gonna need another bath?” you ask, ‘cause his boxers are soaked, and his skin is glistening with sweat, and you figure you’re in a similar state. he nods again.

“okay, sweetie. let’s go get you cleaned up, then you can rest, okay?” you help him out of his shorts and lead him to the bathroom. 

in the warm, soapy water, you scrub him off and give him a listening ear as he finally tells you how shitty his week has been, and how you helped him through it even if he was too drained to give you a proper thank you. he gives you one now, and you guys rinse and dry off before snuggling in bed, exchanging more sweet kisses, and drifting into sleep.

✧･ﾟ: *

a/n : my very first yj work yay!!! this fanfiction being released from the dungeon after being in my google drive for weeks :

He seriously doesn’t know what he did wrong— there were no anniversaries forgotten, no plans he stood you up on, no petty arguments— and yet, here he sits, sinking into his couch and burrowed in blankets as his friends try to get him to come out of his cocoon, all with no success.

“Is she mad at you again?” Beomgyu asks, his voice muffled despite sitting on top of Yeonjun— literally, he couldn’t feel his legs— and he hears him groan at the sight of Yeonjun nodding under the mass of blankets, cursing quietly to himself and undoubtedly rolling his eyes, “dude, what did you do?”

“I don’t knowww,” Yeonjun cries out, throwing the blankets off him and onto Beomgyu as he whines— he watches as Beomgyu flails about for a second, running his hands through his hair as he continues to stress about you, “she— she said she didn’t wanna see me again, but I miss her…”

“Fuck, she’s probably just saying that because she wants space— dude, are you crying?”

“What if she was breaking up with me?” Yeonjun asks, and Beomgyu is amazed to see the way his wide eyes are welling up with tears; god, he’s actually crying now, the sight childish and unhinged as he watches his (older) friend sniffle and hiccup through his sentences, “what if— what if she— she, she, she really meant it— god, I don’t wanna break up, I don’t even know what I did wronggg!”

“Okay, okay,” Beomgyu grimaces, watching the way his friend breaks down before his eyes; his hand is stiff and awkward as it pats Yeonjun’s back, trying his best to comfort him, wincing at the way Yeonjun only cries harder, “It’s… probably nothing, I’m sure she’ll talk to you again tomorrow, or once she’s calmed down.”

“You think?” Yeonjun asks, peeking through his hands and up at Beomgyu with sparkling eyes, full of hope as Beomgyu can only crack a nervous smile.

“Yeah,” he says, patting Yeonjun’s back again in reassurance, “Yeah— just, be patient, okay?”

Patient is the last word one would use to describe Yeonjun. 

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

MONDAY

This is it. 

Yeonjun has been waiting all weekend for this moment (Or just Sunday, to be more accurate), restless on his feet as he finds himself pacing back and forth— he’s nibbling at his lip nervously, arms sore and tired from the weight of the gift he holds in his hands; a bouquet of your favorite flowers, pristine and in full bloom— it’s large and quite heavy as it practically covers his face, but Yeonjun knew that a small bouquet would do nothing to show his love for you. 

He would try to talk to you as soon as your class ended. He needed to know what he did wrong, and he sure as hell would not do it again. You didn’t text him after the argument, and it only left him uneasy at the thought of you really wanting to end things.

He didn’t want to lose you. Not like this. 

Admittedly, he got a bit ahead of himself— he’s been waiting outside for the past half hour, arriving much too early as he stood out in the hall awkwardly— at some point, he tried peeking into the small, rectangular window next to the door, hunched over slightly and pouting as he scanned the room for you. 

When he spotted you, he was delighted to see you had already been looking at him. 

He couldn’t contain the wide smile that stretched across his face, waving at you excitedly in hopes you’d do the same— unable to realize that the whole class was now looking at him, he was confused to watch the way your face screwed up into an expression of sheer embarrassment, shielding your face with your hand and looking away as some students began following his line of sight. 

Why did you do that? You were ignoring him, and it hurt like a bitch as Yeonjun frowned. His mind was racing as he began wondering what he might’ve done wrong— he was so focused, in fact, that he failed to notice the professor blocking his view, his reaction time much too slow as his eyes flickered up to meet the man’s gaze. Flustered, he backed away quickly, his face heating up as he bowed in apology— he hugged the bouquet close to his chest as he did, mumbling out a soft sorry the man probably couldn’t even hear. 

You, on the other hand, could hear the way your professor laughed at Yeonjun’s actions, absolutely mortified by the way he turned around and began to joke to the class, saying that “It looks like someone here has an admirer,” whilst looking in your direction, your classmates laughing along before he went back to his lecture.

Shit, this was so embarrassing. 

Yeonjun is so fucking stupid, you cry to yourself, peeking over at the doorway in hopes that he took the hint and left— but no, he definitely didn’t, because you could still see his figure through the window, leaning against the wall and holding an item the size of his whole upper body close to his chest. 

The last thing you wanted to do was go outside and see him— but that’s exactly what happened anyway, even if you lingered behind once class ended in hopes that Yeonjun would get impatient and wait— patience was never his strongest virtue, after all. 

But for you, anything could change. 

This is exactly why you find him outside the door, face hidden with what is, to your surprise, a large bouquet of your favorite flowers. 

Fuck, you seriously don’t want to talk to him right now. Gritting your teeth, you use this moment to sneak past him, a slight guilt tugging at you as you look back, spotting the way he seems oblivious to the fact that you’ve left already. 

Looking back was your first mistake.

Because Yeonjun, in a truly creepy fashion, is almost able to sense it, whipping his head to you and perking up at the way you only walk faster— then begin sprinting, refusing to look back again once he starts chasing after you. 

“Baby,” you hear him call out to you, the ridiculous rustling of his bouquet slightly muffling his words as his footsteps thud against the tiles; for an athlete, you’d expect him to catch up to you already, but you quietly pat yourself on the back for the slight head start you gave yourself. 

“Baby, wait!” he continues to yell, ignoring the strange stares from those passing by, “Please, let me talk to you!” 

“I don’t wanna talk!” you growl out, your emotions taking over as you remember why you’re mad at him, “leave me alone!”

You’re outside now; you’re a huffing and sweaty mess, but you refuse to slow down for even a second, the threat of Yeonjun hot on your heels fueling your stamina. 

“Can you please tell me what I did wrong?” He yells, exasperated as he watches you run off the sidewalk— you’re attempting to lose him, but countless running drills and morning runs have prepared him for this moment— without a second thought, he’s following you, attempting to peek over his— inconveniently large, he must admit— bouquet, watching the way you simply continue to run, glancing back every once in a while to see if he’s still there. 

“Please, can we be civil and talk about this?!” his words have you turning around to send him a glare— instead, you stumble to a stop as you watch Yeonjun trip, eyes widening at the dramatic sight before you. 

He’s fallen flat on his face, a puff of petals blowing up around him as you wince— he’s face-first into whatever’s left of the flowers, the rest of the petals fluttering in the air around him and falling delicately on his figure as you stare, the place eerily silent save for the chirping birds and rustling leaves.

He doesn’t say anything— he doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t even attempt to get up, left splattered all over the grass as you stare at him in slight concern. 

“Yeonjun?” you call out uncertainly, shifting on your feet as you pause. He doesn’t respond— he’s left frozen on the ground, and you’re frowning at the sight as you slowly make your way to him; you approach him slowly, as though you were approaching a wild animal, tense in your movements as you lean in to observe him. 

“Did you die?” you ask quietly, taking in the way he still hasn’t moved. Not an inch. You feel more concerned than you want to admit, crouching down in front of him as you bite your lip in worry. 

“Do you hate me.” the sudden words have you flinching, staring down at Yeonjun, who’s still eating dirt and flowers. You frown, scoffing at the way he weakly reaches out for you— swiftly, you slap his hand, watching the way it flops back onto the ground. 

“No— yes— a little,” you stutter out, angry at the way you bounce between responses just from the mere pathetic sight of him. 

“Can you forgive me?” he asks, the words muffled as it takes you a minute to decipher what he may be saying— you can’t help but roll your eyes at his antics.  

“For what?” you ask, picking a petal off his back absentmindedly as you wait— if he could answer properly, you might consider giving in. 

“For existing.” 

God, Yeonjun was such a sap. It has you biting back a smile as you resist the urge to stroke his hair, mused and riddled with petals from his grand gesture— but his answer was not the one you were looking for, and you’re standing back up and readjusting your clothes without another word. 

“pleaaaaseee,” you hear him whine, watching the way he shrivels up into a ball— then, he’s sitting back on his legs, whipping his head up and looking at you with wide, teary eyes. 

“Please take the flowers with you at least,” he pouts, thrusting the bouquet— or, whatever was left of it— up at you with pleading eyes.

Pressing your lips together, you sigh; a moment passes before you’re taking the gift from him begrudgingly, ignoring the way he perks up happily at your action. 

“I’m still mad at you,” you hiss, and he immediately deflates at your words, “Don’t visit my class like that again. Please.” 

He says nothing, left to watch as you turn your back to him and walk away; he has yet to get up, his heart pounding against his chest as he watches the way you hug the flowers close to you, shaking your head at the state of them. 

This was… progress. 

But you’re still mad at him. 

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

TUESDAY

Visiting you in class was a big no. 

Visiting you in general, however, wasn’t off-limits.

You don’t want to talk to him? Fine, he can understand. In fact, he won’t talk to you at all— a feat much greater said than done— but hey, he always loved staring at you anyway. 

Well, it’s a little hard to stare by the way you’ve propped up textbooks around your face like a fort. 

He’s staring. He’s still staring. You can practically feel his puppy-eyed gaze burn into your brain telepathically; no matter how hard you try to focus on your work, it’s become damn near impossible with the way you can feel Yeonjun’s presence, your neck beginning to ache from the way you’ve remained ducked down this whole time. 

It was easy to deal with at first; you chose not to do anything the moment you saw Yeonjun emerge from the staircase and onto the top floor of the library— otherwise known as the quietest level. 

He wouldn’t be able to talk to you without disturbing the peace of others— and potentially being asked to leave— so you decided to not make a scene and go back to studying, even when you felt his eyes lock on your figure and beeline to you. 

He sat across from you first. Though, you were quick to move, pretending as though you were looking for a book as you quickly ran away to the other side of the library. You felt the way his eyes followed you the whole time— he looked like a kicked puppy, and damn did that stupid tactic of his always work, because you even felt yourself pausing for a second, wondering if you should give in and talk to him. 

But, you are a horrendously petty person.

You were holed up in some random corner. You didn’t even know there was a table there until today, the spot so secluded and quiet that you silently celebrated getting him off your trail.

It was peaceful— for like, a good ten minutes. 

You didn’t think much of it when you first heard it; footsteps, slow and calculated as they rounded about the bookshelves. You could hear the sound of books being pulled out clear as day, though you chose to ignore it all and keep focus on your assignments instead. 

After a moment, the footsteps disappeared. 

It was back to being completely silent. And, in your bored state, you began to look around the area you were huddled up in; curiously, you allowed yourself to walk around, reading the spines and pulling out books that seemed to pique your interest even slightly. 

There seemed to be another person here as well— maybe it was the same person as before, or maybe it was someone new— you didn’t pay mind to it nonetheless, continuing your journey as your eyes locked in on a particularly colorful book.

Slowly, you pulled it out— on the other side, you watched the book adjacent to yours slowly get pulled out as well, and a smile tugged at your lips at the odd coincidence. 

Then, your eyes met with Yeonjun’s. 

His gaze filled with admiration was only returned with a mean scowl from you. You were quick to shove the book back into its place, storming off to your table without a moment’s hesitation. 

Yeonjun was quickly able to find your hiding spot— one might think you could cry from the way you buried your face into your hands defeatedly, refusing to look up from your dark refuge as the sounds of a chair scraping against the carpeted floors met your ears. 

That’s how you found yourself here, ignoring what people might think as you hide behind your fortress of textbooks. You didn’t feel good staying in a secluded area with Yeonjun— not because you thought he might try to do anything— but because you were afraid of your own resolve crumbling, especially after you’d spent so much time trying to ignore him. 

You wonder if he’s still here. Who are you kidding, of course he’s still here, though you can’t really bring yourself to check and see for yourself. 

After a while, you hear scribbling sounds. 

You can’t hide the way you jump as a piece of paper hits your head, folded into a perfect heart and landing in front of you with a dull thud. 

Open me :( it says, and though you wish you could say you were strong enough to ignore it, you definitely aren’t.

Can you pls let me look at u at least?

You don’t get much of a moment to process the message. Another paper lands directly in front of you, shaped into a heart and scrawled with the same words as the last— slowly, you open it, dreading what might be written inside this time. 

I miss you so so so so so much. 

You shake your head at his words. Sliding the paper to the side, you ignore his request, choosing to focus on your work instead of giving in to his silly tactics. After a moment, you wonder if you’ll be getting another paper— instead, nothing happens; the sigh of relief you let out is almost comical, your body relaxing a bit as you allow yourself to wonder if he’s finally left. 

That was your second mistake. 

Because after a few minutes, another paper hits you. It’s another heart, and you find that you don’t need to open it this time, the message scrawled on top for easier access. 

I’m sorry. 

Another paper flies over your fortress.

I’m sorry.

Then, another. 

Pls forgive me.

Then another. And another, and another, and another. 

Pls, I hate making you mad. I feel so gross and sad rn. I seriously can’t go a day without you. I miss you sm, pls :(((

You feel like you’re under attack— the way he continues to throw paper after paper is rhythmic and almost impressive, the endless stream of hearts covering your keyboard and forcing you to sweep them to the side after seconds. 

It’s useless to study. How can you, when Yeonjun keeps throwing his apologies at you? It’s stupid and childish and is enough for you to take your textbooks down, your jaw clenched and your eyes pointed in a sharp glare that has Yeonjun pausing in his actions. 

There’s a small pile of hearts next to him. 

Neither of you move— he’s frozen mid-throw, his eyes widening as though he can’t grasp the fact that you’re actually looking at him— even if it’s filled with rage and annoyance. 

Slowly, the corners of his lips curl up— you can’t find it in you to react as he throws the paper in his hands, feeling the way it smacks right onto your forehead before it falls to the table. 

Can I show u how sorry I am??

You don’t seem to think of the consequences as you reach for your bag in the seat next to you— devoid of anything except a few pencils and your hoodie— and throw it at him, watching the way he yelps in surprise, your bag spilling out it’s few contents all over the floor. The sound is enough to have the people around you glancing at your table, curious or angry at the sound of the ruckus. 

You’re worked up and huffing as you watch Yeonjun scramble to gather the spilled contents of your bag, watching as he stutters out whispered apologies between his actions. 

“Excuse me,” the hand on your shoulder is firm as you twist your head to look at the librarian, your expression falling at the realization of what you’ve just done. 

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” 

Whipping your head around, you meet eyes with a sheepish and guilty Yeonjun, gritting your teeth as he holds out your bag for you to take. 

Wordlessly, you snatch it from him, shoving your computer and the rest of your items into it before you’re turning around to face the librarian; you whisper out a soft “I’m so sorry” as you bow in apology, waiting for her to leave before you’re facing Yeonjun again. 

I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, he mouths to you, though you ignore it all as you choose to whack his shoulder with your very-full bag instead; the pained whimper he lets out has you gritting your teeth in irritation, watching the way he pouts up at you as he rubs his arm pathetically. 

“Don’t pull this shit again,” you hiss out, storming off before he can get another word out. 

There goes all his progress. 

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

WEDNESDAY

Today has been an oddly nice day.

It’s nice— too nice, you wonder, pondering what may be different enough to have you walking with a smile on your face, appreciating the beautiful weather in a light mood. 

A guy your age is leaning against a tree up ahead. He holds a bouquet of roses, and you smile at the way he seems to be passing one out to every person that passes him. That’s so sweet, you think to yourself, and you can’t help the way your stomach twists in anticipation the moment his eyes meet yours. 

“Would you like a rose?” he asks you, his blond hair shining under the sunlight as he sends you a bright smile— you don’t hesitate to say yes, taking the flower from him with a cute thank you! 

The flower is in full bloom as you twirl it between your fingers absentmindedly. The smile on your face is seemingly permanent as you make your way to your favorite cafe, though as you think back to the interaction, you can’t help but wonder if you know that man from somewhere.

It isn’t until you stop at a crosswalk that you notice it— there’s a tag on the rose, and though you initially thought it was just a price tag, you realize that it’s something else; pausing before you cross the street, you take a moment to tilt your head and read it, feeling your jaw drop as your brain registers the words in disbelief. 

Yeonjun says he’s sorry.

“What the fuck,” you mutter to yourself, ripping it off without hesitation and shoving it into your pocket— you definietly recognize the man from earlier, you realize— that was Hueningkai!

You roll your eyes at Yeonjun’s weak ploy to talk to you— you can’t help the way it leaves you irritated as you stand in line to order, trying your best to recite your regular order to the barista with a smile on your face, the man before you giving you a dimpled smile before he’s off to make it.

By the time you get your order, you’ve calmed down— you’re quick to exit and make your way back towards campus, using this small break between classes to study again. (without Yeonjun around, hopefully.) 

Your fingers are absentminded as you trace over the printed sticker on the side of the cup that has your order printed on it, glancing down at the text before you take another sip. 

Yeonjun is really sorry.

…What? 

You were more unnerved than anything. The lengths Yeonjun had gone through to communicate almost concerned you, though all you could do at this point was rip the sticker off and shove it in your pocket, ignoring it like the other one. You wracked your mind for answers as you began to wonder if you had seen that barista anywhere else, and after a moment, you settled on the vague conclusion that you think you’ve seen him in Yeonjun’s frat house before. 

He’s so annoying, you sigh to yourself, rubbing at your temples as you fear an upcoming headache. 

You’re startled back to life at the sight of a puppy running up to you— you’re frowning at the sight, unsure of what to do as it stops right at your feet, jumping up on you and barking excitedly— almost like it recognized you— squinting, you observe the dog. 

Oh god, you think to yourself, realizing with dread that you do recognize this damn dog.

“Matcha, who let you out,” you huff, leaning down to scoop the tiny dog into your arms— in the distance, you can see someone running in your direction, though you choose to ignore it as you notice Matcha’s brand new collar. 

Yeonjun misses you more than anything. 

The words are wrapped around his collar, leaving you to throw your head back and groan at the sight; the footsteps are much louder than before, and you’re looking forward again as you spot yet another familiar face. 

“Beomgyu,” you sneer, shoving Matcha into his awaiting hands. All he can do is laugh sheepishly, muttering out what a coincidence! Petting Matcha, he pauses, giving you an expectant look that only leaves you confused.

“Could you forgive him?”

“Go away!” you say in return, weaving out of his way and practically running off to the library; you can hear Matcha barking at you, though you choose to ignore it as Beomgyu’s calls of your name fuel you further. 

You feel out of breath by the time you finally enter the library, finding the nearest help desk and beginning to rummage through your bag for any books you need renewed— the librarian simply smiles at you patiently as he waits, adjusting his glasses before he quickly turns around to get something— by the time he’s back, you’ve laid out your books for him, thanking him quietly as you watch him renew them quickly.

When he slides them back towards you, you frown— there’s a bookmark on top of your small stack of books, laminated and shiny under the lights as you pick it up to get rid of the glare— reading it, you can already feel the need to tear it, though it seems as this cheeky worker is already one step ahead of you. 

Yeonjun just wants to talk to you again.

Three ways to better communication in a relationship:

The glare you send the worker— Taehyun, his name tag reads— is lethal, though he doesn’t seem to be affected by it as he simply sends you an innocent smile. Without another word, you gather your books, shoving them into your bag as you turn to leave.

“Ignoring him won’t solve anything,” he calls out quietly, though you don’t seem to appreciate the advice by the way you don’t even bother to turn back and react. Instead, you walk right back out, storming home as you type on your phone furiously. 

my baby :((

stop using others to relay messages damn it!!!

my baby :((

and don’t use matcha against me you loser!!!!!!

Through his end, Yeonjun is just happy that you’re texting him— though, the mean name is not much appreciated. 

Choi Yeonjun. 

can you pls let me talk to you instead?

You don’t bother opening the notification. 

That was your third mistake.

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

THURSDAY

Today has been relatively peaceful. You have yet to be bothered today— no Yeonjun, no Matcha, and certainly none of his friends. 

Maybe because he was aware of your plans today; you did tell him a while ago about your reunion with one of your friends, always chatting his ear off about how excited you were to finally see her again—it slightly warms your heart to know that he actually listens to you.

Well. Most of the time. 

“You’re fighting right now?” Tzuyu asks, leaning forward in her seat with wide eyes. You didn’t expect this sudden change of topic, but you can only nod grimly in response, watching as she sighs in dismay at your situation. 

“Wow, you guys never fight— at least, not to this level,” she’s deep in thought over your relationship as she frowns, crossing her arms over her chest as she stares down at her empty plate— you both chose to forgo dessert, and now you wait patiently for your check.

“Well, what are you guys even fighting about?” 

“It’s just—“ you’re cut off by your server placing the check in between the two of you, thanking him with a smile on your face before you’re freezing; you’re unsure of what to make of the plate that he places before you, stuttering out unintelligible sentences that you didn’t order… whatever this was. 

“Free of charge,” the man says, before bowing politely and scurrying away; you’re barely able to get a word out before you huff in defeat, looking back at the treat in front of you as you take in Tzuyu’s amused laughter.

“What?” you ask, frowning as you watch her turn the plate towards you— you’re left a bit speechless by what you see, mouth falling open as your brain attempts to comprehend how you should react to this. 

It’s dessert— well, more specifically, three full scoops of ice cream, the caramel drizzle and other toppings decorating it to make it look like a cat; more specifically, a sad cat. All along the plate, more caramel drizzle decorates it to form a sentence. 

I miss you. Please, talk to me. YJ. 

Your head snaps up in the direction the waiter went in; looking out the small window of the kitchen door, you spot none other than Yeonjun, his eyes widening before he’s ducking out of the way like a deer in headlights. 

“How the fuck did he get back there?!” you cry out, running a hand down your face in disbelief— but no, one more glance back in his direction is enough to catch him peeking at you again, flinching in surprise before he’s ducking out of your sight once more. 

“Who let him in there?” you hiss, placing your head in your hands as Tzuyu merely laughs; you ignore the way she begins to dig into the dessert after you express that you won’t touch it, humming happily that it was a sweet gesture. 

A moment’s thought is able to remind you where you are— in Beomgyu’s older brother’s restaurant, of course. 

Defeatedly, you open the checkbook to offer to pay— though the price has your eyes practically bulging out, reading and re-reading the strange excuse of a check this waiter has brought to you. 

Your meal was free. 

The only thing you read on the paper was a poor excuse of Yeonjun replacing the food items with “i miss you”s and “i’m sorry”s, the sight baffling you as Tzuyu turns the check towards her in curiosity. 

“Interesting,” she hums, closing the checkbook before she’s fishing for tip money, “Are you sure you wanna lose a guy like him?”

You take a second to think her question through. 

Yet another mistake on your part. 

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

FRIDAY

Remembering what happened today is enough to have your head hurting— so, you’ll keep it short.

You were working— working, minding your own business, prey to unsuspecting events— when it happened. 

Fridays were always rush days. Maybe that’s why you didn’t think to pay attention to your surroundings, to the blasting music, the yell of your coworkers calling out drinks and names, or to the endless chatter of the customers around you. 

You should have paid attention— maybe, if you did, you would’ve been able to spare yourself the embarrassment— another mistake of yours, if you will. 

The break of music from the radio was not what caught your attention— radio hosts do it all the time, speaking in between songs with useless chatter as they find a song to play next— no, what did catch your attention, however, was the eerily familiar voice, and worse, the eerily familiar message he broadcasted all over your local station. 

“This next song is called Seven,” he spoke, smooth, suave, and relaxing as the track rolled in quietly in the background, “a song about a man more than willing to show how devoted he is to his to his partner— ___, come home, the kids miss you— well, more like Matcha, but still.”

You could feel your coworkers freeze around you. You could feel their gazes slowly drift to you, could feel the way customers got a good look at the decorated name tag you once showed off proudly. 

“Is— is he…?” your coworker whispered beside you, watching the way you caved into yourself in attempts to hide your nametag, “is he that frat boy you were talking about?”

“No.” you say, avoiding everyone’s gaze as you focus on making your drink instead, “No. That’s not him. This isn’t about me, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“___, I’ll keep waiting for you patiently. Have a good shift today.” 

Christ!

Your coworkers could only laugh lightheartedly at his words— they found it cute, which was even worse for you, because all you could wonder was how the fuck he was able to get into the broadcast station— this time, you seriously couldn’t figure out any ties between him and the place. 

“Looks like he won’t give up,” to say you were horrified at the way a customer told you this was an understatement, her eyes alight with amusement as she spoke to you with a tone so genuine you almost thought she was in on it— fuck, maybe she was— “if anything, you should turn him down soon before he goes too far.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you breathed out, tired of these constant antics as you thought over her words, forced to go through the rest of your shift pretending as though Yeonjun hadn’t broadcasted his pleading message to the whole city— well, more like anyone who was listening to the local radio station willingly.

You feel like you’re on The Truman Show, or something.

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

SATURDAY

You were scared to talk to Yeonjun. 

Scared— why were you scared? You don’t know why, but you couldn’t bring yourself to send him a text message, pacing around your room like an idiot instead as you wondered what you would tell him. 

Would you talk? Would you finally break up with him?

The way your stomach sank with dread at the mere thought of the second option was enough of an answer for you— no, you shouldn’t break up with him.

However, it was storming today— there was no way in hell you would be going outside to meet him in such weather, so you opted to psych yourself up to send him a text message asking to meet up instead.

You were pacing around your room again when you noticed it. 

There’s a bright umbrella outside— shit, you recognize that umbrella, you realize with a heavy dread, walking up to your window and pulling your curtains open as you stare out in dismay.

Why the fuck is Yeonjun outside right now?

It’s perfect timing, the way his umbrella raises to show his figure; oh my god, you think to yourself, biting your lip as you take his expression in, he’s crying!

This was not your intention. You never meant to hurt Yeonjun like this, but you also were not ready to see him yet— so, with a slight pang in your heart, you shut the curtains again, leaving just enough of a crack to make sure that he’ll leave.

Instead, he stayed there. In true Yeonjun fashion, squinting up at your window in hopes that you’d at least tell him to go away. Instead, he watched as you peeked through the crack of the curtains, his heart fluttering slightly at the way you thought you were being discreet with your actions. 

Slowly, Yeonjun turns his phone to you; there’s writing flashing by in his phone, though you have to squint your eyes and wait for the whole sentence to roll by to see what he’s trying to tell you now. 

I know you don’t… want to see me… right now but I … seriously just need… to know what I … did wrong. 

God. Fuck. This whole “ghosting” ordeal was harder than it should be when someone like Yeonjun was involved. 

 It’s been like… a week and you… still haven’t talked… to me.

Oh, the guilt is seriously eating you up right now. You weren’t supposed to ignore him for days on end, but each time Yeonjun reached out for you, you couldn’t control the way you ran away in return, still hurt by the things he didn’t even realize he did.

You’ve finally gotten a good grasp of his obliviousness.

I’m sorry… I love you… I love you… I love you…

Only three words are rolling by on his phone now. You think you’ve gotten the gist of what he’s trying to tell you as you sink to the floor, out of sight and exasperated as you reach for your phone to make a call. 

“Hello?”

“Please come get Yeonjun. He’s outside my apartment in the freezing rain.”

“Uhm, let him in then?”

“I— I can’t,” you mutter sheepishly as you feel your face heating up, your stomach sinking as you hear Beomgyu scoffing on the other side of the line, “I don’t want to talk to him right now. Not like this.”

“Then I guess he’ll stay out in the freezing rain.” 

“He’ll get sick!” you say, and it’s only now that you feel stupid for this push and pull you’ve created, “please. I’m begging you.” 

“You need to talk to him.”

“I want to. I will.” you say, placing a hand on your forehead as you sigh, “Tomorrow.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” 

A pause. Then, you hear rustling, and the sounds of Beomgyu grumbling quietly to himself.

“I’ll go get him,” he says, and you can feel yourself sink further against the wall in relief, “you better not back out on your word, okay?”

“Okay.” 

You hope you’re not making a mistake. 

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

SUNDAY

This is awkward. You feel awkward. You probably look awkward, too. 

Yeonjun, for once, looks just as awkward and tense before you. His whole body is rigid as he sits on your couch, feeling more like a stranger in your home than the man you’ve spent the past few months with, the way his eyes wander around making you feel like it’s his first time here. 

“Yeonjun,” you sigh out, catching his attention as his eyes zero in on you immediately; you feel nervous under his gaze, unsure of what to say as your brain begins to stutter, your mouth opening and closing in hopes that a proper sentence will come out.

“What did I do wrong?” he cries out, snapping you out of your troubled reverie as your eyes meet his— they’re glossy, and you’re afraid he might just start crying again if you look away, “can we start there?”

“You— you seriously don’t know?” you ask, bewildered by his question as you sit back on your couch— Yeonjun simply shakes his head reverently in response, and you’re blinking owlishly at him as you stare at him in disbelief. 

“We didn’t have any arguments before this,” he says, nibbling on his lip as he thinks back to the moment you yelled at him, tearing his arm off you as he attempted to keep you from running away, “You just snapped at me then disappeared— I, I want to know what I did wrong, at least.”

“Yeonjun you—“ you’re dragging a hand down your cheek as you clench your jaw, taking a second to breathe to not snap at him again, “that’s the problem, you’re just so— so oblivious, I seriously thought you’d be able to put two and two together by now!” 

Oh, oh this is embarrassing; you should not be getting worked up right now, your hands immediately coming up to hide your face as you hear Yeonjun cooing out your name softly— he’s next to you at the speed of light, attempting to take your hands away as he quietly tells you to breathe in his stupid, calming voice. 

“You’re always at those stupid parties, you stupid frat boy—“ you’re stuttering through your sentences, the heat in your face humiliating as you feel your emotions finally tumbling down, “and I know I told you I’m okay with it— I am, I really am— but what I’m not okay with is how fucking flirty you are!”

You can feel Yeonjun’s hands stiffen; slowly, his mouth drops in shock, his face beginning to pale as he realizes just why you’re mad at him. 

“I’ve told you— time, and time again— that, that I don’t like when you feed into people like that, that you never reject advances and tell them that you have a fucking girlfriend,” you know he never means it in a harmful way. You know that, nine times out of ten, Yeonjun doesn’t even realize those advances are happening, but it’s always just as painful to watch, knowing that charming attitude and cheeky voice is exactly how he got you, “and it just makes me feel so… so stupid and jealous and unwanted!” 

You feel out of breath by the time you finish. Though you remain silent and try to calm yourself, you instead begin to feel more anger festering inside you as you take in Yeonjun’s face, full of dread and realization as he begins to think back to how he was acting back at the frat party that caused this mess. 

Yeonjun was used to people acting the way they did around him. It never fazed him, and most of the time he simply followed along because he found it fun. No, he never thought of having anyone else but you, you’re his everything— though, he does realize how inconsiderate he’s been of your feelings now. 

“Baby, baby, I’m so sorry,” he says, his words genuine and filled with guilt as he cups your face gently, “I didn’t know.”

“Fuck!” Your response is unprecedented as you shake his hands off you, pushing him back and forcing him to lay across the couch as he looks up at you in surprise. He’s unable to do anything as he watches the way you throw your legs on each side of his waist, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and tugging him up as you sneer at him.

“That’s your problem, you just don’t know—!” pushing him back on the couch, he lets out a soft oof! unable to help the way his stomach swirls in anticipation of your next move, “You’re just too stupid, you don’t know anything unless someone spells it out for you!”

Shit. Yeonjun has never seen you like this, frustrated and restless as you shift above him, your eyes alight with rage as you begin tugging your hoodie over your head; his eyes widen comically at the action, shifting nervously under you as he realizes that oh, you’re not wearing a bra. 

“You’ve seriously left me wondering if you’re even taking this relationship seriously, it’s ridiculous!” Yeonjun feels like he’s been left on autopilot as he lets you tug him up again; he’s sitting up, hands hovering precariously as you glare at him, the sight enough to have him gulping nervously.

“I— I do,” he stutters out, watching as you send him an accusing look, “I do, I do I do, I take you so seriously, and fuck, I haven’t been thinking of anyone but you all week.” 

“Yeah?” you ask him, patronizing and unexpectedly mean as you look down at him, “You never fucking act like it.”

“Yes I do—!” he yells out, though it’s cut off by the way you sit down firmly in his lap, a hand threading into his hair and yanking at the roots as you tug his head back cruelly, “I’ve shown you this whole week just how much I think about you…” 

Yeonjun is hard. Painfully so, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him get turned on so quickly— it’s enough to have you laughing breathily, tugging on his hair again and listening to the way he only lets out a high whine in response.

“What you’ve shown me this week,” you hiss, bringing him close to you, your lips grazing against his as you speak, “is that you’re a desperate bitch that doesn’t know how to be patient.”

“You were ignoring me,” he fights back, letting out a breathy wince at the way your grip tightens on his hair, “you’ve been so mean to me—!”

Yeonjun doesn’t get another word in on the matter. The way you bite his lip ruthlessly and sneak your tongue into his mouth has you feeling the way he practically turns to putty under you, his cheeks just as red as his lips as he gasps against your own, feeling the way you begin to grind against his cock without remorse. 

“Me? I’ve been mean to you?” you wonder out loud, hands running down his chest before you’re tugging his shirt up; you don’t bother taking it off as it rests against his chest, leaning him back and running your hands over his skin as you take in the way his stomach twitches in response. “do you know how many people think they’ve actually got a chance with you, all because you refuse to use common sense and say, oh, I’ve got a girlfriend!” 

Yeonjun shakes his head; there’s no way your words are true, especially when he’s literally obsessed with you. But of course, you’re always right— which is exactly why you’re fueled to rake your nails down his skin, leaving him to hiss and twitch at the feeling of your acrylics digging into his stomach and leaving bright, red scratch marks— acrylics he paid for because he thought they were pretty, the reminder only making his cock twitch pathetically. 

“There’s no one in this world that has a chance with me but you,” Yeonjun insists, pouting at the way you only scoff at his words, “I’ve never done anything to fuel other people’s strange fantasies.”

“God, you’re stupid,” you say, and Yeonjun thinks he must’ve lost his mind from the way he can feel a whine building up in his throat, “and to think I found that endearing.”

“You’re so mean,” he pouts— though he’s quick to regret it, letting out a loud cry as you begin grinding against him, able to feel the warmth of your pussy through the thin shorts you wear, your breast bouncing from the way your body begins to move. 

“You don’t like it?” You ask, tilting your head to watch as he merely shakes his head in response— all you can do is plant yourself to where you can feel his length pressed up against your slit, throbbing against you as you pout at him in false pity, “no you don’t like it, or no you do?”

“I— I…” he doesn’t know how to respond; it seems as though Yeonjun hasn’t figured out the response for himself, but you can feel it from the way his hips buck up into yours, stuttering and without rhythm as he remains defenseless under you. 

“You do like it,” you say, mocking at the way he only whimpers from the feeling of your nails digging into his hips, “Feels nice to be on the receiving end, baby?”

Fuck. Fuck, oh fuck, this was strange and new and Yeonjun was definitely enjoying himself more than he thought he should, a melted pile of remorse and love as he pathetically waited for your next move, doe eyes staring up at you as he felt his mouth part, unable to say anything as he gave in to the mean look you sent him. 

“Been waiting patiently for me, hmm?” you ask him, thinking back to his earlier words as you watch him nod eagerly in confirmation, “So you bothering me every day of the week was you being patient?”

“I just wanted to talk,” Yeonjun whines out, chest heaving at the way you begin rolling your hips against his, your rhythm firm and dangerous as he feels weak moans leaving him like a stream, “but you— you kept avoiding me, I wanted to get some confirmation that you didn’t break up with me that day…!”

“Yeah?” you mock him, your voice just as whiny and breathy as his as you lean down to him; placing your hands on his chest, you tilt your head, grinding your cunt against him in a way that has him panting and looking for someplace to grab onto, “and did you get your answer?”

Yeonjun doesn’t even think he registered what you said. All he knows is that the way you’re sitting on him is genuinely cruel, especially with the way he hasn’t felt your body against his in so long. His mind is muddled and he can feel himself losing control from the way his hips begin to buck up, his brain going blank except for the thought that he hasn’t felt you against him in what seems like ages, his body so pent up with frustration that he can’t help but chase after the slight pleasure you offer him. 

Yeonjun’s mind has blanked out. You can see it in his face, the way it’s twisted with pleasure as he fails to respond to you, body bucking up into you so wildly that you have to steady yourself with two hands pressed firmly against his chest, your balance getting screwed over at his attempts to fuck up into you. 

The feeling of your warm hands is enough to bring Yeonjun back, eyes widening in realization as his eyes meet yours, clouded with so much need that it has Yeonjun slowing his pace immediately.

“Fuck, fuck, wait,” he stutters out, eyes widening at the way your cunt is practically leaking onto him— he can feel it through the layers of clothes, “wait wait wait, I’m so— ah, please— so… sososo close, baby, please…!”

“Wait?” you echo, brows furrowing as he nods frantically in response, “thought you didn’t like waiting?”

“No, please, please,” he whimpers, though his hips don’t stop their mindless rutting into your warm cunt, “please, don’t wanna come like this, wanna be inside you.”

“No?” you repeat, the mocking tone of your voice making his eyes screw shut, “why don’t you stop then? It’s all up to you.”

Oh, of course he can stop— though, that doesn’t mean he will, your hips slowly grinding against his as you watch the way his mouth falls open, not a sound falling past it before his hips buck up into you wildly— slowly, you feel a warmth spread beneath you, Yeonjun’s eyes screwed tightly as tears begin to peek from the corners. 

“Nooooo nonono, no, not like this,” he cried quietly to himself, ever the hypocrite as his hands fly to your waist, riding out his orgasm with loud, shameless moans. 

“Oh, my baby,” you say, pouting at the way he apologizes to you under his breath, “Is that it? Are you done now?”

“No, not done,” he’s quick to respond despite his rattled state of mind, looking up at you through bleary eyes. 

“No?” you hum, taking a moment to watch him carefully. 

“No,” he repeats, breathless as his grip tightens on your hips— even through the sensitivity, you can still feel his hips roll up into yours, quiet whimpers and whines leaving him as he does so— though, he can’t find it in himself to stop, at least not with the way he has yet to feel you around him. 

“God, this is so pitiful,” you say, frowning at the way Yeonjun struggles to sit up underneath you; you’re cupping his face as he looks up at you, teary eyes and flushed face unable to say anything as he simply leans into your touch— the way you coo softly has him pouting, and you can’t resist the urge to hover over his lips, teasing him with a smile as you brush over them, placing chaste kisses that only have him chasing you for more. 

“What a good bitch,” you hiss, feeling the way his hands have wandered up to play with your breasts, obsessed as always as his fingers tug and circle your nipples, eager to feel them harden under his touch, “doesn’t matter how many times you cum, hmm? Just need to make me feel good?”

“Yes, yes yes yes,” he babbles, wincing and moaning at the way your lips have begun to wander along his neck, nipping and sucking and leaving enough marks that a person could spot from far away with ease; the way your teeth sink into his skin practically has him crying, and he can feel his heart pounding against his chest the moment he feels you pause, your nose nuzzling into the spot behind his ear, your breath ticklish on his skin as you laugh. 

“Are you wearing my perfume, junie?” You mumble, hearing the way he can only whine in embarrassment; he doesn’t answer you, and you bite at his earlobe softly as you wait, silently demanding a response as his hands fall to your hips, gripping them pathetically as though his life depended on it. 

“I missed you,” he repeats, the words making you roll your eyes as your hand finds itself in his hair; you’re tugging at it, tilting his head and exposing his neck to you as you begin to nose along the column, closing your eyes to confirm if this is really your scent, “couldn’t smell you on my clothes anymore, love your scent s’much, ah…”

His neck has always been sensitive; that’s exactly why you choose to focus on it so much, not leaving until it’s covered with your marks and his tears have run down them, his soft sniffles making you glance up as you take him in, overstimulated and a mess as he bites his lip in an attempt to quiet himself.

“Too much, baby?” You coo, running a hand through his hair and pushing it back comfortingly, watching as he shakes his head adamantly, his wide eyes shiny and tear-filled as he looks up at you.

“No,” he mumbles, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you towards him; his face is buried in your chest, and you can’t hold back the gasp you let out as his mouth immediately attaches itself to your breast, plump lips sucking at it as his tongue runs along it, messy and spit-filled as he looks back up at you, grinding you into him with weak whimpers, “want you to use me, you can do anything you want to me, just wanna please you.”

“Such a good boy for me, junie,” you say, his eyes fluttering close at your fond comment. “Are you gonna listen to me, for once?”

“I always listen to you,” he insists, and you feel irked by his words as you scoff.

“Like hell you do,” you sneer, easily angered as he shrinks down from your cold gaze, “Show me then— strip.”

Yeonjun is eager to listen, eager to please; you don’t think you’ve ever seen him get undressed so quickly, kicking off his pants and throwing his shirt off in some random direction as he looks up at you expectantly, his cock a mess and already beginning to harden as your eyes fall to it.

“Hard already?” You muse, watching the way his cheeks blush red at your comment. Your hand is teasing as you wrap your fingers around his length, your perfect nails shining under the light as you slowly begin to move up and down, the cum from his previous orgasm guiding your movements as he begins to twitch under you, crying softly at the overstimulation. 

“Guess you weren’t lying,” you sigh out, finger swiping over his throbbing tip as you hear him yelp at the feeling, “just a cute body for me to use, hmm? You’re nothing but a dick for me to get myself off on?”

Yeonjun is mindlessly agreeing with you— your words are clearly affecting him, his cock leaking and throbbing in your hand, making a mess of it as his head falls back, throat displaying all the marks you left on him earlier like a trophy.

His head is snapping back up the moment you sink onto him. You’re warm, tight, and so fucking wet, his body jolting at the feeling of you clenching around him, taking him inch by inch as he feels the way your walls stretch to adjust to him.

“Fuck…” you hiss, your arousal practically dripping on him from how good he feels— “Yeonjun, shit.”

“Waiiittt, wait, oh god, no— don’t say my name like that, fuck,” Yeonjun begins moaning, your lips quirking into a smile as you watch his eyes screw shut, already knowing what’s coming from the way he holds onto you tighter, head buried into your chest as he tries to still your hips.

“Hmm? What’s wrong?” You ask, feigning innocence as you roll your hips into him, moaning dramatically as you do, “Oh, Yeonjun, Yeonjun— fuck, junie, you feel so good, feel so full…”

He’s shaking his head hopelessly; you know what you’re doing to him, and he feels pathetic by the way he loses his senses the more you sink onto him, his cock twitching in you uncontrollably as he warns you to stop, stop, stop before I…!

“This is embarrassing, Yeonjunie,” you pout, feeling the way a warmth spreads inside you the moment you sit on his hips snugly, feeling him bottomed out inside you as he attempts to muffle his sounds. His ears are bright red and he refuses to show you his face as he keeps you close to him, his arms still hugging you flush against him as you feel the valley of your breasts become wet with his tears. 

“Why are you crying, hmm?” You ask him, looking down to see the way he still hides his face, “You’ve already come twice, shouldn’t you be happy? You’re so easy, Yeonjunie.”

Your words are degrading, your voice cold as continue to mock him— and though you pretend otherwise, you can feel the way he ruts his hips into you with every mean comment, clearly enjoying himself more than he lets on as he lets out a broken cry against your skin. 

“Fuck, are you seriously getting off to this?” You snap, bored with pretending as though you don’t feel your boyfriend clinging to you tighter as you degrade him, “You’re such a fucking slut— you get off to anything, don’t you?”

The way you pull him away from your skin is sudden and rough, a soft yelp leaving him as he’s finally forced to face you, eyes fluttering open and meeting your own, your face twisted in annoyance as you look down at him.

“Acting like a bitch in heat, already came twice from nothing,” you grit, rolling your hips against his as you watch the way his eyes roll back— your other hand comes up to grip his cheeks, digging into the flesh and squeezing them together as he pouts at you, eyes welling with tears as he feels your nails dig into him.

“Don’t you feel bad? How am I supposed to get myself off if you can barely keep your dick up for more than a minute?” Your eyes darken at the way he simply lets out a pathetic sorry, ‘m so sorry baby, “What? I don’t think I heard you right.”

Your pussy feels so good around him; Yeonjun is barely able to think straight from the way you’ve begun to bounce on his cock ruthlessly, the sight of your breasts bouncing before him hypnotizing as you jerk his head back up to look at you, towering over him and demanding as you slow your hips to a mean grind.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whines out, his words incoherent and mushed together as you keep a hold of his face, listening as you hiss out for what? “‘M sorry for being so impatient— ah, ah, please— ngh, sorry for coming too soon, sorry for…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. He can’t find the ability to, distracted by the way your sounds have picked up, your fingers rubbing circles on your clit as you continue to use his cock like a toy; his cheeks feel sore as he stares at you with wide eyes, watching your face contort with pleasure, your rhythm become sloppy as you feel your legs getting tired. 

You didn’t think Yeonjun would pick up on it; without any warning, you find your back colliding against the couch, your eyes widening as you feel Yeonjun still settled in between your legs, cock still nestled deeply inside you; he’s still a pouty mess above you, hands gripping onto your hips as he begins rutting into you, his thrusts rough and out of control as he takes in your figure hungrily. 

“Sorry for making you feel unwanted,” Yeonjun babbles, feeling you throw your arms around his neck from the sudden confession, bringing him in close as you feel his face hover above your own, “I only want you, want you to use me and mark me so others know who I belong to, I’m all yours baby— please, please please please tell me you’re close, wanna feel you come on my cock, wanna make you feel good, missed you, missed this pussy, fuck, mmh, ugh, feel so good, so good, soso good, please, baby—“

Yeonjun thinks you’re something of an aphrodisiac to him; at least, that must be the explanation if he’s able to cum the moment he feels you unravel around him, unrestrained and addicted to the feeling as he listens to your pretty sounds, practically melting as he hears your voice purring under him— so good, fuck, you’re all mine Yeonjunie, all mine…

You don’t think you’ve ever felt Yeonjun cum this much— his cock continues to twitch and release inside you even after you’ve come down from your high, the man above you burying his head into the crook of your neck as he cries softly at the feeling, unable to help the way his hips buck forward to ride out his orgasm.

This shift in dynamic is new— but it’s addicting, and you find yourself thoroughly enjoying the way Yeonjun clings to you, his head hazy and needy for your comfort as he lays on top of you, uncaring of how heavy he may be as he wraps his strong arms around you. 

Missed you s’much baby, missed you, please don’t do that again, you could hear him mutter into your skin, a bit out of it as he peppered kisses along your collarbones.

“Alright, alright, I won’t,” you breathe out, running your fingers through his hair soothingly as he leans into your touch like a cat, “I’m sorry I kept running away from you.”

“But then again,” you trail off, tightening your grip on his hair teasingly, feeling the way he immediately whines softly, “you should’ve given me space when I asked you to. It was kinda cute, but don’t do that again— okay?”

“Okay. Of course. Whatever you say,” his response is immediate, not an ounce of hesitation as he stares at you with eyes shining with devotion. After a second, his lips part, and he’s hovering over you again as he looks down at you in wonder. 

“Does that mean we’re boyfriend-girlfriend again?”

You laugh.

“You idiot,” you coo, placing a soft kiss on his lips, unable to control your laugh as you do, “We didn’t stop being boyfriend-girlfriend. I was just mad at you.”

“Hmm. Then, can I eat you out?” His words have you freezing, looking at him in bewilderment as he simply smiles at you sheepishly, “To like. Show you how sorry I am.”

A pause. 

“…And, because I really missed eating you out.”

You sigh— and try not to show how eager you are as you nod softly. Yeonjun however, is shameless as he immediately pulls out, hissing softly at the feeling before he’s sinking to his stomach— you’re gulping at the sight. 

“You’re insatiable.” Your comment doesn’t faze him— if anything, it makes him smile, his pretty eyes staring at you with enough adoration and love that you’re squirming slightly under him.

“For you, yeah.”

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

On Monday, the sight of Yeonjun on campus is enough to have you spinning on your heels and running in the opposite direction. He wears nothing but a thin tank top, wondering why you’re yelling at him to cover up the moment he answers your phone call. 

“Why? It’s hot outside— …and, like, I wanna show everyone who I belong to.”

(You refuse to stand by his side until he covers up—though, you can’t ignore the way his words send butterflies through your stomach.)