Paco Rabanne - Spring 1997 RTW

Diana and Acteon pas de deux

Vaganova Ballet Academy Graduation Performance 2014

Renata Shakirova and Alisher Kalibay

angel in the marble

after you fail to pickpocket him, the famous yet arrogant artist Jeon Jungkook takes you off the streets to make you his servant, and the more you know him, the more you realise he's not as detestable as everyone claims he is.

♔ PAIRING: michelangelo!jungkook x servant!reader

♔ GENRE: high renaissance au, angst, smut, humour

♔ WORD COUNT: 8k

♔ WARNINGS: homelessness, stealing, mild swearing/violence/drinking, 90% of this is bickering lmao, mentions of minor characters' death, jealousy and kinda possessiveness?, referenced unconsensual groping (not by jk), a bit of blasphemy, making out, groping, fingering, rough angry sexxx, choking, slapping

♔ AUTHOR'S NOTE: fun fact this is mostly historically accurate! jk's characterisation, the grocery list doodles, the sack of rome, the beef with his brother, the encounter with his rival (raphael)... are all taken from michelangelo's actual life, even some stuff is quoted from his letters lol. man was fanfic material.

1529, Rome

“How much for that one?”

“No, that one’s sold already.”

It was a lively morning. After days of heavy rainfall, those of high social class were eager to get out and meet under the gentle sun of spring, whose glare reflected on the precious stones of their jewellery; while those of low, out of necessity, couldn’t wait to reopen their businesses or set up their stalls and get back to work. You liked to eye them all as you strolled the streets of Rome.

“To whom?”

“Your friend Taehyung.”

“Agh… How much is that prick paying you?”

The point of the matter was that it was bustling, some colliding if they looked away from where they were going for more than a breath. It worked in your favour for it was then easier to make yourself scarce right after stealing bags of coins, such as those of the three men seemingly bargaining by a workshop’s entrance out of which a large block of marble was being dragged. Perfect.

“Three ducats.”

“Three?! He’s robbing you of two ducats. I’ll pay you the five it’s worth.”

You kept your head low as you approached the pair that seemed wealthier and with those stealthy hands of yours unfastened the bags tied to their belts. After all, pickpocketing was a skill you’d had under your own for some years now, so this was bound to go smoothly.

Because you didn’t realise there was a guardian with them, perhaps you’d grown arrogant.

“I’m sorry, maestro. It’s reserved.”

“But it’ll become a waste in his possession!”

As you slipped away into the crowd, mouth watering at the fresh-baked bread you were going to devour as soon as bought, this brown dog leaped up at you out of nowhere, ignoring your desperate efforts to shake him off. If anything, they caused him to bark.

No, no, no…

The three men turned to the scene playing out not so far, and thinking his dog was bothering you one of them shouted, “Bam, come here, boy!” but as he obediently ran to his owner, you were too slow to hide the bags in your hands. It only took the pair a second to make them out, check whether theirs still hung on their belts, find them not, work out you’d stolen them, look back up, and find you not either.

Of course, you’d made your escape by then, dived into the sea of people and swum through them as quickly as possible, only stopping when you reached an empty vaulted alley to catch your breath.

That was ridiculously close. If you weren’t more careful next–

Your train of thought was interrupted by someone grabbing you by the arm from behind and pushing you against the nearest wall. A grunt accompanied the thud, and a gasp followed at the sight of the two men from before—dog included. Pinned in place, it’d be a bad idea to fight back or attempt to run away again. Fuck’s sake.

“Do you know what happens to thieves?” the one cornering you asked so close that when the cold breeze rustled his hair, some strands grazed your face. You looked away to avoid the tickling rather than out of fear, or so you wanted to believe. “They have a hand cut off. Seems fair, doesn’t it, Jimin?”

By contrast, that Jimin didn’t look intimidating, otherwise still catching his breath from the chase, but he did snatch the coin bags from your hands. “It doesn’t have to be so, maestro. We got our money back. She’s… just a girl.”

“And that exempts her of crime?”

“Please, don’t report me,” you begged, humiliating as though it was.

“Why shouldn’t we?” the maestro scoffed. Maestro… You were being threatened by a damned craftsman, the other one probably his assistant.

“Because I don’t want to lose a hand?”

“Oh, but we wanted to lose money, did we?” You rolled your eyes, and he released his grip only to step away. “Take us to your father, brat. He’ll answer for you.”

It took you a moment to respond, “I don’t have a father, or anyone... Only I can answer for my actions.”

“You’re a beggar?” Jimin asked, taking pity as he studied your appearance for the first time. Dishevelled hair, tattered dress, unpleasant smell… Yes, they should’ve guessed.

“She doesn’t beg, though, does she? She steals.”

“Only from cunts.”

His head snapped to meet your glare, and Jimin laughed, “You seem to not know whom you speak to.” He could be Jesus for all you cared. Uninterested, you petted the dog, Bam, seeing as he’d leapt up at you again. “This is Jeon Jungkook.”

You froze. The Jeon Jungkook? The famous artist who painted and sculpted for the Pope? Whom faraway kings and even emperors commissioned? The one whose genius was said to be changing the world?

At the lack of attention, Bam returned to his master, and that snapped you out of your shock to ask, “Then why do you whine?” The two men frowned, having clearly expected an apology paired with the usual bootlicking. “As if you need that bag more than I!”

“What nerve,” he scoffed again, making you wince by grabbing your arm tighter than before and starting to drag you into the next street. “You’re going straight to the authorities!”

“Wait,” Jimin intervened, thank God. “Weren’t you in need of a servant, maestro?”

“So?”

Jimin pointed at you with his gaze as though it was obvious. “You’re in need of a servant, she’s in need of a roof.”

“I would rather have a hand cut off.”

“I would rather have her hand cut off too.”

Jungkook tried to resume dragging you, but Jimin blocked his way with a soft smile. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N…”

“Do you know how to take care of a household?” Slowly, you nodded, melancholy engulfing you at the memory of cooking or sweeping the floor with your mother once upon a time. Somehow, she always found a way to make chores fun... “Then you qualify for the job. You’ll have three meals a day and a bed to sleep on. And you, maestro, a servant who’ll work her hardest, lest you fire her and she ends up in the streets again.”

Both you and Jungkook reluctantly glanced at each other. Truth be told, you didn’t prefer losing a hand to living with him, you just didn’t like him. Despite being a celebrity, he was a stranger. It just wouldn’t work.

But then, why were you holding your breath, hoping he’d accept?

“We shouldn’t have left Namjoon’s workshop. The marble is about to be delivered,” he said walking away. The air left your lungs in disappointment. It seemed you were to remain a stray cat. Jimin pressed his plump lips apologetically as he gave you enough coins to buy that bread, and you nodded, grateful all the same for his trying. You watched him rush to Jungkook’s side but when this one saw him, he turned around. “Hurry up, brat. If Taehyung gets that block of marble, I’ll not take you in.”

Since the first day, you could attest to Jeon Jungkook’s nature being as rough and uncouth as the rumours claimed, and after living alone with him for two months still believed gossip such as that he’d got the scar on his left cheek in a tavern fight—in which, if you’d chanced to be present, you would’ve rooted for the other individual.

It appeared it wasn’t just others Jungkook was harsh to. However rich his talent had turned him, he behaved like a poor man, consuming food and drink sparingly and out of necessity instead of pleasure, spending only the money required to live decently, sleeping little in order to work on commissions from dawn to midnight…

Why he chose to take little care of himselfwas a mystery to someone who previously had not been allowed a choice, even if putting work before all was in order to thwart Kim Taehyung’s plans of ruining his career, as he claimed. You doubted his rival was obsessed with him so, but had learned to agree with whatever Jungkook grumbled to avoid disputes. Most times.

Deep down, you had a feeling your boldness amused him. Who else dared get on his nerves?

“I think all you artists fluttering around the Pope are no more than slaves to money,” you let drop once while making his bed. Bam was sleeping peacefully under the window, while Jungkook leaning against the door’s frame behind you, offended to the core. He could help, you thought, or at least loosen my corset a little…

“I, a slave? I’ll be damned… There is an angel inside every block of marble, and I’ll have you know I carve to set it free.”

“Is it the angel that charges the Pope, then, master?” You could feel him barely restraining the urge to throw you out the window, smiled as you finished smoothing out the blankets.

“You missed a wrinkle there.”

Hands on your hips and frown on your brows, you examined the neatly arranged coverings of his bed. “Where?”

“On your face,” he muttered before making his leave.

Not his finest jibe, but the metaphor did stay with you. An angel inside the marble… It perhaps applied to Jungkook himself, though you’d never tell him.

One instance it came to mind was recently, when his assistants and apprentices were invited over for dinner.

Usually, he’d tell you which meals he liked and you’d ask at the marketplace which ingredients to buy, but now that about ten meals were to be cooked a list was needed. So there he sat on his desk in his study, inking said list as you waited in front of him, fiddling with the undershirt that peeked out of your dress’ sleeves. Given that your eyes were fixed on it, you only learned Jungkook was done when the sound of his quill scratching the paper ceased.

“Be back no later than dusk,” he ordered, “I bet there are still Germans and Spaniards lurking about.”

A year had passed since the Sack of Rome, but the mention of it sent a shiver of fear down your spine. Whatever the political reasons for it, you hated everyone involved, for Hell itself would’ve been a more beautiful sight to behold those nine months when the Tiber’s waters remained painted red…

You were lucky to make it through. Your family wasn’t.

“Yes, maestro.”

“Here,” he said handing you the paper, then picked another letter from a pile of correspondence he’d been going through before your arrival. Jungkook was about to snap its wax seal when he looked up to realise you hadn’t moved an inch. “Why are you here? Away with you!” He saw the reason in the way you avoided eye contact. “You can’t read, can you?” Met with a silence charged with embarrassment, he leaned back in his chair and sighed, “Give me the list.”

Getting hold of the quill again, Jungkook began… doodling?

You tilted your head but couldn’t see well what he was drawing until he finished and returned the list to you. Then, your lips parted. Each item on the list was illustrated next to its name: ten loaves of bread, a jug of wine, tortellini, four anchovies, two fennel soups…

“I’ll teach you to read when I have time. This will do for now.”

“You’d do that?” For me?

Jungkook ignored you, before he went back to reading his letters complimenting the good gesture with an irritated, “Hurry up.”

That night his co-workers arrived one by one, Jimin the first. The sight of him when you opened the door brightened up your mood.

Unlike a certain someone he was always sweet to you, genuinely interested to know how you fared even if you were just a servant. He claimed that mattered not to him, that you were both commoners and thus equals.

“Look at this place, it’s spotless! And you know I’m furtive, so I won’t get in your way,” you told Jimin as you escorted him through a hallway, bright from the torches hung on the walls that you’d lit up earlier.

He laughed, “I cannot make you my servant, Y/N, you’re maestro’s.”

“But he’s going to drive me mad… To tell you one of many examples, he often falls asleep in his clothes, and who but I is to take his boots off so they don’t get the sheets dirty? If the chalk on his fingers or the dust from the chiseling on his hair won’t already. Bam is far cleaner…”

Jungkook had a workshop he barely set foot in, preferred his team made use of it instead to not be bothered by their idiocy. His words. So it was in a chamber on the ground floor of this house he gave way to artistic insanity. In your book, that meant constant cleaning.

Jimin looked at you fondly. “Sounds nightmarish.”

“It truly is!”

As soon as the two of you entered the dining hall, Bam ran from Jungkook’s side by the fireplace to Jimin, who was as excited to see him.

“Good night, maes–”

“Do you think I’m deaf, ungrateful brat?” Jungkook interrupted him to bark at you. “Rome is full of people begging to get a piece of me, so if you don’t like it here, I’ll just get someone else!”

“You say that and yet keep me like a prisoner!”

“As if you don’t have it better here than anywhere you’ve burdened with your presence before!”

“There, there…” Jimin interjected to de-escalate, kneeling to better stroke Bam. “Maestro, I’ve seen your latest sketch of the Virgin and Child. She resembles Y/N.”

Both you and Jungkook failed to fight off the embarrassment, gazes unable to find a place to settle. Sitting down on the large table, he explained, “It was just one time… I had used Yoongi as a model, but the Madonna looked too masculine... and rather than going through the trouble of finding some girl and hiring her, I had Y/N pose for me… So what! Why bring it up out of nowhere…”

“Because maybe you just need a bit of distance from time to time. With permission, I too would have Y/N pose for m–”

“Absolutely not.”

“Now, why the hell not?” you groaned stamping your foot, startling poor Bam. Hope had been born inside you in a second and cruelly crushed in the next.

“Because I say so. And watch your tone with me.” As usual, the mutual glaring would trick anyone into thinking the next step would be murder. Jimin, who knelt there awkwardly, certainly thought so, at least until the bell rang. “Now go answer the door!”

What happened later, though, rendered the fury Jungkook had evoked in your heart nonexistent and instead seized the thing in a clasp of distress.

In the morning, he walked in when you were sweeping the kitchen. At once you forced the sobs to stop and turned around so he wouldn’t see you wipe your tears.

“It’s past nine, where’s breakfast?” he asked in shock that you hadn’t even started making it, the table there empty.

You swore under your breath before leaving the broomstick leaning against the nearest wall, flushed face kept out of Jungkook’s sight, then in a haste fetched a plate, a knife, and a leftover bread loaf. “Apologies, master, I forgot. I’ll be upstairs in a minute.”

Sniffling betrayed you, at which Jungkook frowned. “Are you crying?”

Great, the question just about especially designed to make one well up. Not trusting your voice anymore, you shook your head. Jungkook approached, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from the task at hand, now cutting a few slices of the bread.

“Have you broken something?” You shook your head again, the suppressed sobs making your chin tremble. Jungkook took a deep breath before asking with a surprisingly soothing tone, “Then what’s wrong?”

“You won’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

Within an hour, he’d summoned a meeting consisting of all who’d attended dinner the previous night.

A seemingly calm Jungkook was sat at the head of the table, elbows sunk on it and fingers interlocked. You stood behind him, head still low out of shame. A tense silence had fallen in the chamber some time ago, and sick of it, Jimin shattered it.

“Have you anything to tell us, maestro?”

“I was waiting for Biagio to do so.”

The man was one of Jungkook’s favourite assistants who had worked with him for years, even longer than Jimin. And if it was possible for your position to be trickier, he belonged to some noble family.

“Me? But I’ve nothing to say, maestro.”

Jungkook leaned back in his chair. “My servant will, then. Y/N?”

Bastard. If you are going to fire me, why make me go through this?

“Last night, w-when I left this hall to go refill the wine jug… Messer Biagio followed me into the kitchen, and… h-he trapped me from behind, and started t-to touch me…” Your vision soon blurred, hence why you couldn’t see clearly how concerned Jimin was for you, or how Biagio jumped up in outrage. “I managed to push him away, and ran upst–”

“How dare you slander me, wench? Maestro, you do not believe this!”

“Do I not?”

“She’s lying! I caught her stealing sketches from your study, likely to sell them, so she’s trying to get rid of me!”

You almost scoffed. Only an idiot would choose the one occasion guests had come over and her absence would be noticed to carry out a theft.

Jungkook tilted his head. “I thought you had nothing to say. Why would you keep such a thing just now?”

Biagio gulped. “I deemed it best to mention it later, in private... You won’t believe a pickpocket before an old friend, will you?”

Silence returned, your breath still as you saw all the assistants and apprentices visibly take pity on him. The only one who didn’t was Jimin, but even on his face there was a hint of hesitation. Jungkook’s, you couldn’t see from behind, but after an eternity he stood up and walked over only to put a hand on the shoulder of Biagio, who smiled in relief.

A quiet sob broke through your lips, heart sinking. You’d needed Jungkook to believe you in this. Not because of the consequences his protection as your master could save you from, but because, like it or not… he was the closest thing to family you had.

It turned out he did believe you, judging by the punch landed on Biagio’s jaw out of nowhere. And the next one on his cheekbone, and on his nose. Before everyone around the table had barely stood up to stop Jungkook, he’d already thrown Biagio down and straddled him, pulling his doublet’s collar in a close, tight grip as he continued beating him up. Blood was drawn, but for once, you didn’t mind having to scrub it later.

Jungkook’s influence trumped a whole noble house’s, you learned in the course of the months Biagio tried his mightiest and failed most miserably to have him arrested. Perhaps because of the Pope sitting on his shoulder.

That he’d taken your side was still hard to believe, all he’d grumbled with a shrug when you thanked him while tending to his wounds from the fight being, “I’d been waiting for the chance. I always thought Biagio was a weasel.”

With the matter resolved, life returned to normal—well, whatever that meant in Jeon Jungkook’s household. Because calling for you at the top of his lungs like a madman was not normal. The first time he’d done it you’d raced downstairs, afraid something horrible had happened, only for him to have you close a window as it was getting chilly. Devil rot him. You rushed no longer after that, much to his complaints.

Today, he didn’t notice right away when you appeared under the cased opening, and good thing he didn’t, for he was polishing a bust with sandpaper… shirtless.

Product of hours carving stone into his desired shape or occasionally beating someone up, he could brag of having muscles, which the current task had covered in a layer of sweat and dust. The way they flexed with each movement had you compelled, wanting to reach out, feel if his skin was as hot as the blood pumping through your veins faster and faster. Then your gaze moved to the bust and whatever spell you were under broke.

Hardly an angel was that widowed noblewoman, whom you wished had stayed trapped inside a block of marble. Her name was Madonna Maddalena, and she’d come some weeks past to make a commission covered in pearls, gold, and boldness.

“My friends refused to accompany me today. You’re said to be… disagreeable, which I’m sure is untrue. However, all of them do want to know if you’re as fine-looking as is also rumoured, maestro” she told Jungkook within minutes of meeting him, still by the entrance!

Now you can tell them he’s not, you bit your tongue before it remarked, as this wasn’t Jimin but a patron not to be scared away by your bickering. It wouldn’t be true anyway. All your master lacked in manners, he made up for with looks… Which you’d never say out loud. You’d never say either that he looked even better when irked.

“I’ve heard many rumours about myself, most of them nonsense. My appearance was involved in none.”

She smiled seductively. “I suppose I’ll have to be the one to spread them.”

“The weather is pleasant today,” Jungkook changed the subject, flustered beneath the formal demeanour. “Shall we have wine in the garden?” You left to prepare it not before catching Maddalena raise her brow at you in disapproval. She must’ve been able to tell you thought she was a pompous cunt.

The beautiful flowers you cared for tried their best outside, but the air didn’t get any better.

Sat around a small table, Maddalena explained she wanted a bust of herself by his talented hand to decorate the main hall of her palazzo. You served them wine, not really listening until Jungkook started playing hard to get. The hundred times you’d told him it wasn’t a good tactic to make his labour out to be too prestigious had apparently fallen on deaf ears.

“Any other artist could carry this out, Madonna. I am working for the Pope these days…” he subtly scolded her, a mere mortal, for wasting his precious time. And he wondered why he had a reputation for being arrogant.

Maddalena put his thoughts into plain words, “So why should you stoop to taking commissions from an insignificant widow?”

“Correct,” you said under your breath, luckily heard by none from the background, where you stood holding a wine jug until the madonna raised her cup and you approached to refill it.

“It is then fortunate I’m to marry a nephew of the Pope’s.”

Swayed by her future influence, Jungkook smiled back. “So it is.”

“But not for another week. ‘Till then, I belong to no man.” The suggestion in her tone almost drove you to spill wine all over her. No, better yet: order Bam to sic on her. He’d do it.

Just, who did this woman think she was? And why did Jungkook not kick her out right afterwards? It made you wonder whether he’d enjoyed the flirtation. Whether he would’ve been the one to take things further had his inconvenient servant not been present. It was common for men to have affairs and lovers, but it didn’t sit well with you that Jungkook might. Not that you ever imagined him doing any of that, for goodness’ sake–

“What took you so long?”

Jungkook’s voice brought you back to the present, under the cased opening.

“I was lazing about, as always,” you quoted his favourite false reprimand, making him roll his eyes, your own dropping to the floor when he walked closer.

“In that case, prepare a bath for me.”

“Yes, master.”

You sighed at all the work ahead. That being a servant was worlds better than living in the streets didn’t mean you looked forward to collecting gallons of water from a well, carrying them back, heating them, transferring them to a tub, then washing Jungkook—because you did wash him.

Biagio had hurt his left shoulder bad and ever since, he’d needed assistance in certain activities. Curious how he could otherwise chisel a goddamned bust without problem.

Jungkook’s full nudity only made you blush if you stopped scrubbing, so knelt with tucked up sleeves before the wooden tub he was reclined on, scrubbing away the dirt on his skin with lavender-scented soap you were. Maybe all the stupid feelings you’d been suffering lately stemmed from there…

Head resting on the edge, he was exhausted from the long day of work, taking your rubbing as a relaxing massage. You, however, couldn’t ignore the stinging guilt, what with the scar on his shoulder right in front of your face. He probably felt your breathing on it.

“I’m sorry you got hurt…”

Jungkook fought heavy lids only to see you avoid him. Allowing yourself to be vulnerable in front of him was embarrassing, as when he’d caught you crying, but he didn’t take advantage of the fact to humiliate you. Jungkook may be an ogre, but he wasn’t cruel.

“I’ve received worse for less,” he assured you in a calm, low voice. It sounded soothing to your ears.

“That, I don’t doubt,” you scoffed, glancing at his other scar on the cheek. “Did you also get that one in defence of some lady?”

“You’re nowhere close to a lady.” It could be done, you mused. Drowning him. “This was courtesy of my brother.”

“You have a brother?” It dawned on you how little you knew of him. Surely, most had heard it all about the divine Jeon Jungkook, but you’d never cared enough to learn past the shell of gossip, even after months of living with him. In fairness, he’d never asked about you either. You preferred it that way.

“Brothers,” he corrected you. “The one who did this to me was a wayward fool. Had to teach him a lesson.”

“Looks like he taught one to you.”

“I left with a scratch, he with a limp.” The conception of two brothers hurting each other so harshly widened your eyes for a second, and Jungkook noticed, for he added, “He was whoring around, wasting the money I worked hard to send, bullying our other brothers as well.”

Much made sense about Jungkook all of a sudden. Not his personality, that was incomprehensible. But why he killed himself to earn money and yet barely spent it… He had a family to provide for. Once again, you were reminded of his metaphor. Could an angel be in there?

Carrying on washing Jungkook, you dragged the sponge over to his neck. Then his collarbones, his chest, his abs just peaking above the water... They did look like a sculpture’s, especially wet and soaped, reminiscent of polished marble when the light of the torches reflected on them. Swallowing hard, the back of your fingers gingerly graced Jungkook’s muscles, both soft and firm. Slippery. Whatever possessed you to keep feeling them, you lacked the will to expel from your body, and so without realising your grip on the sponge loosened until it fell to float away, fingertips now free to roam over his abs.

You were slowly trailing downwards, past the water’s surface, when your wrist was seized and held in the air in a warning manner, the startle almost making you scream.

Sat upright, Jungkook was glaring at you so fiercely you feared for your life. But he didn’t say anything and instead just breathed hard, jaw clenched… almost as if he was holding back. Your rising heartbeat was deafening in the silence waiting for something to happen, anything, but what did wasn’t what a side of you anticipated with excitement.

Jungkook just let go of your wrist and returned to his previous position, and you got hold of the sponge and finished washing him, albeit holding your breath the entire time.

Days later, you came dangerously close to being fired.

The Pope had summoned Jungkook—something about a portrait commission—and you were to carry his bag filled with sketches for him due to his shoulder injury. As you navigated the ever-busy streets of Rome with him, the cold autumn breeze made you regret not putting on an overgown. The cioppa you’d bought with your own salary and not stolen. It brought a smile to your lips that faded at the realisation your mother would’ve reminded you to put it on before going out.

The sorrow pestering you turned to confusion when Jungkook stopped walking and tsked, telling you loud enough to be heard by all, “Look at him, the chief of police, with such an assemblage.”

A well-dressed man and what appeared to be his entourage walked in your direction, halting near enough. You didn’t have to ask to know this was his rival, the renowned painter Kim Taehyung.

“Whereas you, like an executioner, walk alone,” he mocked Jungkook, then noticed you standing behind him like a timid child. “Not completely, my mistake. Maestro, where in your barren soil did you plant such a flower?” He walked over to you, intentionally bumping Jungkook’s wounded shoulder as he passed, causing him to grunt lowly. From up close one was bound to marvel at how handsome Taehyung was, but you didn’t need proximity to tell he was a prick. Miles away, you would’ve known. “Why don’t you come work for me, flower? I’ll make you my muse.”

Jungkook scoffed again, “What, for your horseshit paintings? She’d be a fool to.”

Taehyung turned around to face him, feigning confusion with a smile. “But, maestro, how could they be so if you were once heard saying that all I have in art, I got from you?”

"You naturally have to resort to plagiarising my master’s genius if all you do is horseshit,” you countered, earning surprised looks from every man present, some laughs too, you were proud to say. Jungkook was certainly smirking. Taehyung opened his mouth, but you walked past him uninterested before a response came out of it.

“Good girl,” Jungkook laughed while leaving the crime scene, and for some reason your cheeks burned hot.

The incident happened once inside the Vatican.

Its grandiose corridors alone made you feel small, too unimportant to walk them, whereas Jungkook did so with determination, knowing he belonged at the top of the world. What with your tempestuous relationship, it was easy to forget he was famous throughout Europe. His feet would still never be kissed by you. Someone had to humble the man, right?

At some point the two of you arrived at a door flanked by guards, and averse, you grabbed the sleeve of Jungkook’s doublet.

“Do I have to go in?”

“Too good for the Pope, are you?” He shook you off. “Come on.”

“Damn you…” you muttered.

“What did you just say to me?”

“After you, master.”

Telling himself he’d be late if he scolded you, Jungkook turned and nodded at the guards, who opened the door of a chamber whose walls were frescoed with angels and saints, likely by Taehyung, giving off the impression one was in Heaven. When you saw him sat on a golden chair, old and grey, enjoying the tune of a lute player, you felt as though you’d just entered Hell.

The audience lasted for ever. While you stood by the door, Jungkook showed the Pope some sketches of the portrait for him to choose his favourite and then they talked and talked of politics. All you could do was fix your gaze somewhere on the floor and sigh.

“Yes, Your Holiness, this is the servant I mentioned…” A frown proceeded your looking up to see Jungkook somewhat embarrassed, scratching his nose as if to hide his face. He talked of you to others? Doubtless to complain…

With a sweet voice as if he was talking to a little girl, the Pope asked you, “What is your name?”

“None of your business, Your Holiness.”

The musician’s tune ceased abruptly, allowing Jungkook’s faint gasp to be heard. Then fell a short silence spent by the Pope blinking, taken aback. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me.”

Jungkook was quick to fake a laugh, though sweat formed at his temples. “A jest! She meant no offence, Your Holiness, but to make you laugh.”

You held the Pope’s glare in defiance, indifferent to the fact he was the most powerful man in the whole of Christendom.

By some miracle, he let it go, and you left that chamber minutes later with your head as yet attached to your body. Your arm wouldn’t be for much longer, though, given Jungkook was forcibly dragging you all the way out to the streets, pushing you into the first alley he saw.

“Are you out of your mind?!” he shouted, towering over you menacingly. Unlike the day you’d met, you weren’t scared, rather furious as him as you stood your ground. “That was the Pope, you fool!”

“So?”

Jungkook was in utter disbelief. “He could’ve ordered your execution– mine too!”

“Well, nothing happened!”

“Nothing?! I’m sure to fall out of favour!” He paced around, anxiety quickening his breath. “Years of pouring my soul into my craft, of grovelling before the right people, all thrown away! Good God, your attitude may cost me everything…”

“And what about me?! Everything lost to me does not matter?!”

Jungkook stopped to frown. “What the hell are you talking about?”

It was now you who walked up to him. “I didn’t have a job, or a reputation, or admirers. I had only a family, and I never wished for anything else! That monster you work for took them from me. When the foreigners’ armies came and everyone rushed to Castel Sant’Angelo, he gave the order to close the gates as soon as he was safe behind them! You must have been there with him, weren’t you? Well, we weren’t. We were left outside to be slaughtered. And I wish I had been, like my parents, so I didn’t have to suffer the likes of you any longer!”

Tears were streaming down your face by the end, Jungkook just staring back at you. It didn’t surprise him that your parents were dead or that they’d been killed during the Sack, but that it was so deep a wound left festering in your heart that you didn’t mind being put out of misery. He surmised your disrespectful behaviour towards him was also fruit of your pain, especially if you deemed him an ally of the one who caused it.

“The few things I own… They’re wasted on me. Throw them away or give them to your next servant,” you sobbed, taking for granted you were fired. Anyone with half a brain would indeed have you dismissed, and part of you knew it was bound to happen, that you would go back to breaking in fucking churches to spend the night.

So you turned around into the main street, set on wandering until your legs became too sore not to collapse. With any luck, a carriage would run over you. But warmth then surrounded your hand, and you looked down to see Jungkook’s holding it tight enough to force you to halt. Though still mad, a hint of compassion sparkled in his eyes.

“Let’s… Let us just go home.”

Home. His house had felt so for a while now, truth be told. Himself too.

After that, you non-verbally agreed on a ceasefire—avoiding quarrels, that is, which was quite the task for both.

Such as now that Jungkook had you inking down a letter in his name. First of all, did you look like a scribe? If you’d known in advance the lazy arse would teach you to read and write for this, you’d have chosen to remain illiterate. And second, this was your short break before making dinner, intended to be spent playing with Bam. The poor thing was also in the study, at least being stroked by his owner, who was sat beside you on the desk.

“… I send you my regards, may God keep you from all harm. Jeon Jungkook in Rome,” he finally finished dictating, and you recording. “Give it to me, I’ll seal it.”

He was melting the wax with which to do so when the bell rang, to his surprise. Sighing, you stood up and went to open the door to whom turned out to be Jimin. The sight of him brightened you up, and yours stretched his lips into a smile.

“Evening, Y/N.”

“Good evening! I didn’t know the master was expecting you.”

“He isn’t…” You welcomed him in, brows joining at how he continuously chewed on his aforementioned lip and breathed deep through his nose as he followed you. Had something happened…? A decision to eavesdrop was made en route to the study.

Though Jimin requested for you to stay once there, and nothing could have prepared you for the reason why.

“This actually concerns Y/N…” You and Jungkook exchanged confused looks, him leaning against the desk and crossing arms as though he didn’t like the sound of that. Jimin fixed his already perfect clothes before addressing him, “I’ve come to ask for her hand in marriage.” Your jaw dropped. “I know it’s sudden at the lack of previous courtship, but I thought I should ask for your permission before engaging in it, maestro. She’s a lovely girl… and I think she’d be happy as my wife. Worry not, I won’t ask for a dowry or for her to stop working… Although on second thought, fewer hours of service would be ideal.”

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be happening.

Jungkook must be thinking the same, for he squinted to ask, “Are you drunk?”

“N-No, of course not.”

“Are you sure? You want to marry a servant with little to her name.” He had a point, so you weren’t offended. If politics weren’t the reason for a union, did this mean… Jimin had feelings for you?

“Maestro, you say it as if I were a lord,” he chuckled. “I don’t care about Y/N’s possessions, I’ll provide for her anyway. I’ve… always been fond of her. And I dare say she shares the sentiment.”

Betrayal hid safely behind a look that asked if there was any truth to that. Obviously not! There was no romance in your own fondness for Jimin. If anything, you had thought he saw you as a younger sister to look after, therefore as a protective older brother you saw him. But so shocked were you still that no words managed to come out, and Jungkook’s gaze shifted back to Jimin.

“I’ll think about it. You may go.”

A curt tone was the norm for Jungkook, it was not being granted his blessing that disappointed Jimin. He knew for a fact he was an honourable man, so why wouldn't he entrust you to him?

“Quite well… I’ll show myself out.” he uttered, before making his leave failing to hide his low spirit by giving you one last shy smile you hadn’t the heart to return.

An awkward silence filled the air that even Bam daren’t break. Only once the front door was heard shutting did you walk closer to Jungkook.

“You won’t agree to this, will you?”

“Why shouldn’t I? I have to get rid of you at some point.”

“Rid of me? Like I’m a burden?” you asked, voice rising. How a servant could be so was unknown to you until, like wooden ship toys did when you’d submerge them in a bucket of water as a child, certain guesses surfaced in your thoughts. Trying to pickpocket him, the constant clashing, Biagio, that bath, the Pope… Yes, you may perhaps be described as a burden. But you didn’t want to leave. With a calmer tone, you pleaded, “I’ll behave from now on. I won’t cause any more trouble, I swear.”

Jungkook didn’t deign to look your way as he left, followed by Bam. “You have to marry at some point, Y/N. Otherwise people will gossip.”

Since when did he care about what people said of him? And why should you?

Winter having dropped its anchor, nightfall arrived early. Not early enough, you brooded as you cooked dinner, longing for the day to end once and for all. With any hope, all of this was a nightmare and upon waking up in the morning life would go back to normal. You didn’t even know why you wanted to stay with Jungkook, as the occasions in which you’d begged Jimin to employ you to leave this house were countless. The only certain thing was that you were upset.

Later, after washing all plates and cups, you began to put off all torches lighting the house, finding out in the hall that Jungkook hadn’t moved from the seat he’d dined in. You considered carrying on with your job and leaving him in the dark, but he wouldn’t find it as funny. Instead, you stood before him.

“Will that be all, master?”

The coldness in your expression made him sigh, “Y/N–”

“I shall retire, then.” You turned to leave but were made to stop in your tracks.

“It’s an advantageous proposal for you,” he lectured to whom he must believe an idiot. “Jimin works for me, he’s wealthy. A better match than you could ever aspire to. And he asks for no dowry because he doesn’t want money, he wants you…” His words were tainted with resentment. “He’ll take good care of you.”

Skirt of your dress swirling along, you faked a smile. “If you think so, master, then it must be so.”

He shook his head as he leaned back in defeat. “Suit yourself, but I won’t be the one to reject Jimin. You crush his heart.”

A laugh escaped you. “If you genuinely cared about him, you wouldn’t let him marry a woman in love with–” Oh no. It only hit you as you were saying it.

Jungkook had appeared annoyed, but now he was mad. “Who?” He stood up abruptly—chair’s feet scratching against the floor making you wince—and walked so close you were backed against the wall, face forced to turn to a side. In a low, deep voice, he repeated, less as a question and more as an order this time, “Who.”

There was no way in the nine circles of Hell you’d say it, when you didn’t want to believe it in the first place. For fuck’s sake, why? Jungkook only ever made you want to get away from him. That was the case right now, but then… why were your feet frozen?

Some unreasonable part of you seemed to have prevailed upon the others, casting away all resistance from your body and allowing yourself to indulge in Jungkook’s proximity. You met his eyes without fear, held his dark gaze. It didn’t take him long to work it out, yet he kept close, so close your unsteady breaths mingled, the effect akin to intoxication. He was visibly trying to hold back, telling himself it’d be a bad idea, but you prayed he wouldn’t care.

By God or the Devil, your prayers were heard.

Jungkook finally smashed his lips into yours, devouring them with a hunger you shared and felt growing as he gripped your waist to press you against him. A minute ago, you wouldn’t have imagined his tongue belonged inside your mouth, swirling around your own, and now you wanted it all over your body. As if reading your mind, Jungkook broke the ardent kiss to move down to your neck, which he licked painfully slowly before sucking hard, making you hiss with pleasure. He knew that would leave a mark, the bastard. You wondered if it was meant for Jimin, so he’d see you were Jungkook’s, and in such case you didn’t mind, let your eyelids close to enjoy it.

Steered by the lust possessing you, one hand grabbed his soft hair in a fistful, keeping his head in place where he was sweetly abusing your neck, while the other travelled southwards until it reached his crotch and held it over the trousers, feeling his cock stiffen. Jungkook groaned—a vibration to your skin—in retaliation lifting your skirt. You’d thought he'd take his time, tease you, but after ensuring you were wet enough by gliding his middle finger along your core, he slid it inside and began making beckoning motions.

“Master…” you moaned, legs shaking. Jungkook forsook your neck to pull back, watch how you struggled to keep it together as he added another finger, curling and uncurling them both, hitting all the right places, and unwilling to give him that satisfaction without consequences you groped his erection with the same vigour. Although he was in good control of his expression, his breath quivered against your lips, so he kissed them again, biting hard into your lower one.

He exhaled, “You’re driving me to sin…”

Indeed, the same fingers that held the brushes when he painted religious artwork were buried deep inside your cunt, bringing you the most sinful ecstasy. It made you chuckle. Jungkook took that as the mockery it was and, crossed, pulled his fingers out of you to drag you by the arm to the edge of the table, where he had you sit. Without delay he lifted your skirt again, only this time he also pulled down his trousers to reveal his cock, thick and throbbing, which he pumped as he watched you spread your legs eagerly, ready to take all of him.

With his free hand Jungkook cupped your cheek, thumb caressing your lower lip, coated with saliva and reddened still from when he’d bit it. He could sense your desire, that you craved him inside, had for a while. Desperately. And however much tempted he was to make you beg for it, his own arousal led his cock to your entrance and eased it inside already, another groan hitting the back of his bared teeth. You didn’t have time to gasp, his thrusts so quick they earned only moans, so wonderful did it feel.

Jungkook’s hand on your cheek then wrapped around your neck. “Do you know how often I’ve fantasised strangling you?”

You chuckled again as you slapped him across the face. Jungkook halted his movements in shock, glared at you. “And I slapping you?”

It took him a moment, but he scoffed and pushed you back so that you were lying down, climbing next atop you, confident that the wooden table was sturdy enough to hold both. So legs hooked around his torso and arms around his neck, you welcomed his thrusts, rough enough to make your eyes water. But it felt heavenly, how he ravished you... The mutual irritation and tension building up for over half a year translated into indescribable pleasure.

He kissed you again, flicking his tongue against yours as he pounded into you without mercy. Overwhelmed by the sensation, all you could do to express you were nearing your limit was sink your nails into Jungkook’s biceps at each side of you, moan inside his mouth. He took the hint and fucked you as fast as his body would allow, within mere seconds your walls clenching tight around him. The sight of you collapsing under him, overcome with bliss, made him reach his own highest shortly, spurting his warm seed inside you.

As his movements gradually ceased, so did your panting. Before a complete silence fell, you asked, “Am I still to marry Jimin?”

Jungkook grabbed your face and growled against your pouted lips, “You’re not going anywhere.”

when your circle small but y’all crazy!!

smart

synopsis — in which a tutor session with you leads to heeseung finding out how incredibly smart he is.

warnings — swearing, its kinda cringe, mentions of food/eating

pairing — tutor!heeseung x tutoree!reader

wordcount — 1230

a/n — for @yeokii and hee day !!

“How smart do you think you are?”

Heeseung sighs for the nth time, “Y/n, that’s not the point. The point is that you’re learning from me.”

“Yeah, but I’d like to learn from a smart person. Are you smart?”

He thinks he’ll be light headed with the amount of sighs he’s letting out. In fact , he thinks he’ll be light headed from how he got into this situation. Tutoring—allegedly the bad girl of the school. He doesn’t think he’s even seen you ever in class even though you share three classes, but once he saw you, he agreed right away. Too bad he has a weak spot for pretty girls.

“W-well..” He trails off, pushing up the glasses that seem to prefer his nose rather than his eyes. You tilt your head, not satisfied with your half answer.

“Fine, if you don’t think you’re smart, can I leave? I don’t really wanna be here—No offense Heeseung.”

He sighs, looking back at the textbooks laid out, then to you. “Y/n we just started, we can’t leave now. It’s important you graduate-“

“The grades can wait can’t they? My stomach hurts” It’s almost like a lightbulb appears above your head as you gasp, you grab his arm excitedly exclaiming, “We should go to the convenience store!”

He flinched at the warmth on his arm, taking it away before answering. “Y/n, do you not care about school?”

You awkwardly look around, letting out a chuckle, “I do, kind of?”

“Then please, read this chapter.”

“Will you take me to the store afterwards?” you ask.

“...I guess?”

You smile at his answer, agreeing and turning your focus to the page. A silence washes over you two as you scan through each letter. Though the information seems to be going in through one ear and out the other, you figured it didn’t hurt to try.

Heeseung watched as your eyes moved between each line over and over and over again. You don’t seem to notice though, your eyebrows slightly furrow as you continue to read each paragraph. He didn’t notice when you looked up back at him, checking to see if you were reading at a snail’s pace.

“You finished already?”

“Oh—No I didn’t read it.”

“But you’re forcing me to read it? Seems pretty hypocritical to me.”

“I actually—Um I already-”

“You already read it, right? I’m just teasing.” Your hand ruffling through his hair keeps him silent, processing the fact that you don’t hate the idea of touching him. Though he wants to snap out of the trance, he lets a small smile out before saying “Y/n just read the chapter.”

You frown, ‘I can’t! Your hair is so soft.” Grabbing a chunk of his hair, you split it into three between your fingers, braiding it to the best of your ability. A warm red fills his cheeks as he presses his hands to cover them slightly. He lifts his hand to yours, gently grabbing it and bringing it down to your lap.

Huffing at the forceful loss of contact, you give up your antics, trying to pick up on the paragraph where you left off. Still hand in hand you finished the chapter letting out a sigh of relief afterwards.

“Okay, I finished. Can we go to the store now? I think there’s a 7/11 to-”

“We can’t go now! We just started, Y/n.” He shakes his head.

“You promised though! We can continue the study session right while I get my food? Just please.” You clap your hands together, shaking them intensely right in front of him.

Heeseung takes longer than needed to decide just so he could get one extra look at you, he already knows that he doesn’t have a choice but the extra seconds it takes for him to decide is equal to the extra seconds he could take in the fact you’re next to him right now. “I guess so, I’m going to test you on the way though.”

You squeal in excitement, quickly letting go of his hand to pack up every textbook and pencil you left on the library desk. He frowns at the lack of warmth, taking it as a sign to pack up his stuff.

Pushing open the glass doors you take a left to the side walk, making sure Heeseung is still following. He takes out his flashcards, showing off his nice handwriting with the color coded text.

“When was Shakespeare born?” he recites.

Your mouth opens as you look around you, hoping that you would find an answer, “Uh… a long time ago?”

He laughs, “What year?”

You smile at his grin, your brain searches for an answer, praying that you remember any of the text from the chapter you just read about him, “1546?”

“Closer than I thought you would be, 1564,”

You huff, “Who even cares about Shakespeare anyways? People only care about Romeo and Juliet.”

“Alright since you love that play so much, what was the first line of the play?”

Your eyebrows furrow, “Are we really going to be tested on this stuff? How am I supposed to know how-”

Heeeseung likes how you can ramble on about something you don’t like. He also likes that you aren’t afraid to say it. He likes how you furrow your brows when you read or how you have a bounce to your step everytime you’re going somewhere exciting.

He also thinks you’re absolutely gorgeous, your eyes, your nose, your lips, your skin. Each a beautiful feature forming into one absolutely perfect girl. Even though technically nobody is perfect, he likes to think you’re perfect for him. But he’s too scared to make a move since well, you’re you. And he’s Heeseung, a huge nerd who tutors people for fun.

“You’re so pretty.” It comes out before he can even prevent it. Watching your facial expression change he wishes he could find the particles in his words and stuff it right back down his throat.

Your face seems like he just dropped a bomb, “That’s the first line of the play? Thought he was supposed to be some sort of poetic genius.”

Fuck, “No! I mean—No, You’re just pretty, Y/n. That’s not the first line of anything but three seconds ago.” Another time he wishes he could stuff his words down his throat then run home like a loser.

His fears melt away when you smile at him, though you hit his arm it’s obvious you’re flustered as hell. “Thank you, Heeseung.”

He nods, redirecting your conversation to the convenience store, though the hand you snakes around his arm keeps the old conversation in mind.

Looking down, he sees you already staring at him with a smile, you stop abruptly, stopping him as you tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek. It’s officially over for him, he’s all dazed and unable to think properly or even walk properly.

He trips on his own feet afterwards, you laugh so hard, unable to keep any smile in at all. Though he’s flushed red, he’s able to watch you almost die of laughter. Though the situation is purely an accident, he decides he's the smartest man in the world for tripping over his feet. Just to see you smile one more time.

He grabs your hand softly, intertwining each finger, “Let’s go get some food. You’re hungry, right?”

taglist : @jwnghyuns @ja4hyvn @trsrina @redm4ri @badmuni @yeokii @enhastolemyheart @softpia @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @boyfhee

yenqa © please do not copy, steal or translate.

polar opposites? — huening kai

synopsis: you were known to be ‘cold hearted’ and never enjoyed socializing with others. your classmate, huening kai, was the complete opposite; he was more extroverted, knew almost everyone in school, and was open-minded. when your worlds collide, it’s not something you both expected. getting off on the wrong foot only caused another issue for the two of you; being seatmates would be awkward, until it wasn’t.

pairing: classmate!hyuka x gn!reader (i believe)

note: started this a few days ago and Finally finished it so enjoy!! first hyuka work on this acc taehyun will be next trust 🤞

warnings: (most likely) mentions of food, kai is an ass at the start, lmk if i missed anything else! wordcount: 2521 (LOL) words

Huening Kai, your English classmate, was an oddball. You never understood how he was able to socialize with hundreds of people and never get tired after one simple and short conversation. Unlike you, who didn’t bother to add input into the conversation, he was much more different.

You always wondered if he ever got tired of having those many friends, talking to many people, and even having to contribute to his multiple friend groups. But you also wondered if that was just you. Nobody ever approached you because of your bitter personality. It’s not like you wanted to be that way, it just so happened to come out in a less affectionate and more cold-like way.

The countless times you could’ve made a friend but avoided the chance because you didn’t want to experience all those issues and drama between friends. The thought of having a friend never really phased you in the first place, it only sounded like a lot of work. Plus, you enjoyed being alone most of the time. It was more convenient and you were able to get more things done.

Yet, Huening Kai’s abilities still made you curious as to how he’s able to put up with it all. 

Your desk was tidy and organized; your pencil case was unzipped halfway, and unused notebooks were stacked and pushed to the side, which created space for you to place your opened notebook and continue studying your notes. As mentioned before, you preferred being alone because it was more convenient. It also explained your good grades and why you were never distracted or bothered when class was in session.

You enjoyed it a lot. But there was also a certain group of boys who ruined your peacetime and quiet atmosphere. The group of boys consisted of Yang Jungwon, Kang Taehyun, Sim Jake, Park Jisung, and most importantly, Huening Kai.

It’s shocking that you knew all their names due to you never speaking to them, but every day you’d hear their names being tossed around in their conversations, and it was easy to pick up on them. Not that you were an eavesdropper, it’s just they were very loud. It was like they wanted the whole world to hear their conversations and understand every single word they said, which did happen to you. Sometimes, you wanted to tell them to stop talking so loud but other times you didn’t have the guts to do so.

“Hey. Hey! Watch it,” one of the boys exclaimed. You weren’t able to pinpoint who the voice belonged to in time before a body came crashing into your desk. You flinched at the sudden sound and appearance as you watched your pencil case and notebooks fall to the ground followed by another loud noise. 

“Hey, Hyuka! Are you good?” The footsteps of the many boys headed Huening Kai’s way. Your only worry was if your pencil case was okay or not because you didn’t have the time to go back to the stationary store to get new supplies in the first place. So, if something was broken it would definitely ruin your mood. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” He rose from your desk while dusting himself off. One step down to the ground only resulted in a big crack. And that one crack made your heart sink and the boys’ eyes widen. “That wasn’t your foot, right? Ugh, I’m sorry! I didn’t think if I pushed you it would make you fall that far.” Jungwon apologized, expecting Huening Kai to burst into flames of anger but instead he patted his shoulder with a smile. 

“Don’t worry too much about it. It wasn’t my foot either! Actually, it was something else…” They all looked down as he raised his foot revealing the pencil case that sat flattened underneath it. “Yikes,” he muttered. “Oh well,” Jake said as they all began to walk away.

Did they really think that was okay? First, they bump into your desk, knocking every single thing off of it besides the notebook you wrote in, and most likely broke everything in it. You were not letting that go.

“Hey,” you called out. Huening Kai turned around to face you as the boys did the same. “Oh, is that yours? My bad, my bad,” he apologized while jogging back to the pencil case that laid on the floor. He picked it up, placed it on your desk, and walked away again. “Hello? You literally broke almost everything in my pencil case!” You exclaimed while searching through it. That was a lie. He only broke about two to four things that were still valuable to you. “Oh, that’s what that was..” Taehyun mumbled. 

“When will you guys learn to not cause a ruckus when the teachers are not here? Especially you, Huening Kai, you cause the most and allow yourself to be pushed around by those boys! You see, if you didn’t allow Jungwon to do that, you and my pencil case would’ve been fine! You’re all so annoying,” you zipped up your pencil case out of frustration, pausing mid-way.

Did you take it too far? You didn’t mean to attack him individually, all the words flew out of your mouth nonstop. Maybe you held them in for too long.

“Wai—”

“Well, if that’s what you think of me. Then I don’t bother changing it. See, I’m sorry about your pencil case and ‘disturbing your studies’ but keep in mind this is also a classroom, and we’re all students in it. You’re not a teacher, the class president, and nobody else but you have a problem with us. We never even spoke to you, ever. I don’t get why you have a so-called grudge against me but as I said before, I don’t bother changing my ‘bad’ behavior just for you.” He scoffed while looking you up and down. Gasping erupted from around the six of you as regret took over your body. “Let’s go get a snack. Clearly, somebody doesn’t want us here.” He rolled his eyes as he looked away and led the boys out of the classroom.

Yikes, that wasn’t supposed to be the outcome. 

—

Thinking back to the scene previously, it showed you weren’t good with wording your words or controlling your anger. Maybe your words came off harsh, but like said before, it was never your intention. Of course, you wanted to apologize, but another issue of yours was apologies. You were never the best at them. It only seemed like a waste of time. 

Plus, he was also in the wrong. Even if you apologized, the whole issue wouldn’t be cleared until he apologized for his mistake too.

“Hey,” Taehyun said while pointing his spoon at Huening Kai. “Don’t you feel bad for stepping on Y/n’s pencil case earlier?” He questioned, alerting the boy who sat in front of him. “Of course, I do. That still doesn’t give them the right to say all those things. I get they were frustrated but couldn’t they have been less harsh?” He said while picking at his own lunch. “I guess you have a point.” Taehyun went back to eating. 

“I can’t believe we’re starting the second term tomorrow. It’s been too fast.” Jisung said while biting his sandwich. “That means midterms are soon, oh no. I didn’t study for them.” Jisung panicked, causing the boy’s around him to laugh. “You’ll be fine, I’m sure of it.” Huening Kai reassured. “Uh, doesn’t that also mean our seating plan will change? Mr. Oh always does this when a new term starts,” Jake said in realization. 

“It was nice sitting with you, Hyuka.” Jake placed a hand on his shoulder but Huening Kai shrugged it off. “I’m sure they won’t be that bad, right? Our whole class is friends with each other, it should be a peaceful arrangement this time.” Huening Kai smiled. “You’re right. We’re all friends thanks to you, Mr. Extrovert,” Taehyun teased as Huening Kai let out a small chuckle. 

“Let’s hope we’re together this time, Hyuka! I need answers,” Jisung whispered the last bit, earning a nudge to the leg from Huening Kai. “Pass on your own, dork.” He said as Jisung playfully rolled his eyes. 

The bell went, signaling that lunch was over. They all brought their trays to the front, discarding the leftovers, and heading to class. 

Finding out their new seatmates was pretty suspenseful.

—

New day, new term. New term, new seatings. New seatings, new problems. 

You scanned the names written on the chalkboard with your eyes that read; Jaemin and Sieun, Chaeyoung and Lia, Jisung and Taehyun, Huening Kai and Y/n, Chan and Beomg—

You paused, rereading the previous pair. 

Huening Kai and Y/n. 

“You have got to be kidding me,” you muttered. You never thought your situation could get any worse. Yeah, you were still mad at him and all but you also felt terribly sorry for the words you said to him the other day. 

You searched for the arranged desks you would sit at alongside Huening Kai for the rest of the semester. “Desk 18-19,” you said. “Seems like I’m stuck with you for the rest of this semester, great.” A voice behind you said in an annoyed tone. Huening Kai passed by you; headphones hanging from his neck, backpack slouched over one arm, and his brown strands fluffy with slight curls. 

“Not like I wanted to be your seatmate in the first place,” you mumbled, mirroring the annoyed tone he used. He rolled his eyes at your impersonation and took a seat on the right. He placed his backpack slumped on the leg of the table as you took a seat beside him. 

The gap between your arms was huge. You were both practically sitting on the edge of your chairs, trying not to touch each other as much as possible. 

“Huening Kai, Y/n… You two can move in more, you know?” Your teacher said, embarrassing both of you. “Ah, right.” You muttered in realization and waited for him to move in. All he did was stare at you instead, waiting for you to move in first. You rolled your eyes and brought your chair closer to the middle of the desk as he followed through.

“Moving on, I’m pretty sure everyone already knows each other, if not then figure that out during your free time! Today we will be starting with the basics of English.” Everyone booed at her words as you sighed, plugging in an earbud. If this was how it’ll be the whole class, blocking out sound from one ear wouldn’t be that bad. 

You searched on Spotify for your main playlist, playing ‘Salty by The Boyz’. You placed your phone down as the screen lit up from the impact. You held back a grin at the comfort of the subtle beats the current song played. The lyrics of the song silenced your teacher’s voice even at its low volume. 

Huening Kai‌ didn’t mean to be a nosy person. Your phone screen lit up, catching his attention. He forced himself to look away, not wanting to invade your privacy, but a familiar album cover caught his eye.

“Salty by The Boyz…” He whispered as you looked at him with confused eyes. “What?” You whispered back, startling him. “Huh? Oh, nothing.” He responded blatantly and looked away. 

Out of all things, he was quite weird. You swore you heard him whisper something — specifically the song you were currently listening to. Huening Kai fidgeted around with his mechanical pencil while his mind overflowed with thoughts. 

Were you also interested in The Boyz? If so, what was your favorite song? Who was your bias? Did you enjoy any other groups? 

All the questions he wanted answers to were now plastered on the piece of paper he folded. He slid the now folded piece of paper to your side of the shared seating and went back to listening to your teacher speak. You looked up from your notebook, taking a break from writing notes only to see a folded piece of paper in your way. 

“Really? We sit right beside each other, there’s no point in passing notes.” You said, coldly. Huening Kai acted as if he didn’t hear a word you said and continued writing notes on the lesson. You sighed in response while unfolding the item in your hands.

‘Hey, I saw you listening to Salty by The Boyz… I was just wondering if you were also interested in The Boyz!’ It read. Your eyes read over the question, emphasizing the word also. You were shocked that he knew who they were in the first place. 

You wrote back a quick and short response — the word yes — and slid the note back to him. A smile crept onto his face after reading the word he wanted to hear. “Who’s your bias?” He whispered as he lowered himself to your level. You looked up at the sudden voice near your ear and were met with Huening Kai’s face pretty close to yours. 

“Oh, my bad.” He said while backing away as you cleared your throat. “It’s Juyeon,” your voice came out quieter than usual as you mentally scolded yourself for being taken aback by his previous action. “Juyeon? That’s cool! Mine are Eric and Chanhee.” He smiled, causing your heart to flutter. 

You were supposed to be hating him! He broke basically everything in your pencil case. But instead, here you were bonding with him over who your favorite member in The Boyz was… Crazy way to get along.

“I know this is a little off-topic but, sorry for yesterday’s incident. I was a little frustrated, but that still wasn’t nice of me to say those mean things to you.” You apologized before the chance was too late. He stared at you blankly as regret overtook your body. 

Was it the wrong timing or did he not know what you were talking about? 

“Sorry, I didn’t expect that. For your pencil case, I genuinely thought it was lying there even before I crashed into your desk, here, I’ll buy you a new set of pens at the store next door during lunch. It won’t be much but hopefully, it repays whatever I bro–”

“Huening Kai and Y/n! Could you please stop talking during my lesson? I’ve been holding off on saying this for the past 15 minutes but now it’s really starting to irritate me.” Your teacher’s voice startled both of you as you apologized. 

“So?” He whispered more quietly this time while your teacher returned to her lesson. You held back a smile and nodded in agreement, imprinting a smile onto Huening Kai’s face. “Great,” he said while returning to his notes as you did the same. 

Maybe seating plans aren’t as bad. They can ruin relationships with others, help build new ones, or even restore a terrible first impression. Clearly, that’s what happened between you and Huening Kai. Let’s just say, you were thankful for this seat. If it meant you’d have a new friend to boast about The Boyz with, you’ll take it. 

© haknom 2023 - do not copy, translate, or plagiarize my work on other platforms!

PERM TAGLIST: @soov @redm4ri @ox1-lovesick @urszn @feeeli @taejays @hanniluvi @dakkisz @dimplewonie @ddenoudepression @xiaoderrrr @ja4hyvn @mmaplepastries @essmarye @w3bqrl @jennaissantes @yenqa

୨୧　𝓓RENCHED 𝓘N 𝓨OU ─ 박성훈

☆ ⋆ 𝑝. 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇 ・ 𝑓𝖾𝗆 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 ・ 𝑤𝑐. 6OO ・ 𝑐𝑤. 𝗉𝖾𝗍𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌, 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖻𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 ・ 𝑔. 𝗌𝗎𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 ・ 𝑎𝑛. 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗆𝗒 𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗌 !! 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖿𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 @mygnolia　—　𝖻𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗅𝖿

　　── ❛ 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗂𝗇 , 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇 + 𝗉𝗈𝗈𝗅 = 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌 ❜

Watching Sunghoon’s svelte frame in the salt-water pool, the thin clothes clinging to his figure as he glided across the water, you relished in the sight.

“Having fun watching, babe?” His velvety voice echoed through the enclosed space, water splashing as a smirk washed over his lips. You paused, the sight of his pretty brown eyes gazing at you, his head tilted and his eyebrow lifted, it was all too much to take in.

You rolled your eyes playfully, sugary lips curving into a smile as you slowly dipped yourself into the pool. The water placed cold kisses against your skin as you sunk in, your body already trembling as you neared Sunghoon who stood there, smiling.

“That’s better,” he whispered, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you closer, his hands sliding up and down your form. You smiled, a shiver still present as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“You like to see me like this?” You teased and leaned closer, your lips almost pressing against his skin, but you halted. Your breath brushes against his ear, your voice a low whisper. “I could get used to this view… but I’m not the only one enjoying it, am I?”

You pulled away from him, savouring the reaction he gave as your hand rested on his practically bare chest, the white cloth barely visible as if it had simply disintegrated.

“Will this answer your question?” Sunghoon asked rhetorically, gripping your waist tight, his arms pulling you close. A soft giggle left your lips, muffled as he kissed you. Your arms wrapped around him as the kiss deepened, your fingers tangling within his hair. His breath became heavy as your lips traced down his neck leaving sweet love bites on his Adam's apple.

Warmth radiated from Sunghoon’s body contrasting the cold water that splashed around you. His fingers dug into your waist, pulling you closer as your kisses quickened with more urgency and lust.

You placed rough kisses along his delicate skin, lingering over his collarbone. You couldn’t resist the temptation, gently biting down, a soft nip at his skin that made him gasp, breath hitched in his throat. You pulled back, watching his reaction as his eyes grew dark, lips parted as he looked down at you and an unreadable expression painted his face.

“Careful, babe,” he teased, his voice deep and throaty as he leaned toward you. You smiled, your fingers trailing down his body, caressing his firm abs. Water thrashed around you as you leaned closer, peppering soft kisses against his chest.

Sunghoon’s hands stroked your back, the heat between you warming the cold pool. You felt his rapid heartbeat against your lips as you trailed your way back up his neck. You paused, meeting his lust-drunken gaze.

You pressed your lips against his, capturing the taste of the sweet nectar that glazed them, a salty mixture of the water that filled your tastebuds. His hand gently held your hair as he pushed you into him, deepening the kiss. Without thought or hesitation, your teeth lightly clamped on his lower lip, eliciting a soft groan from him. You felt yourself smirk against his lips as blood seeped into your mouth.

“You really want to play?” A murmure escaped his now bloodied lips, his breath brushing against your cold face. “I can bite back, y’know?”

He gripped your waist tight, his strong arms lifting you as you wrapped your legs around his abdomen. The water splashed around your bodies as his lips collided with yours. Every kiss, every caress sent your heart aflame, a desire filled you with hunger for the taste of his lips.

　　𖥔 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑚 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 :　@wonsdoll @flwrstqr @mmygnolia @nshmuras @myungsua @kairoot

Enhypen Hyung Trope Series; P.S.H

Sunghoon; Enemies to Lovers part of Enha Hyung Line Trope Series

paring: Soccer Co-Cap!Sunghoon x Student Council Vice! fem reader

synopsis: An unspoken and unforeseen trail of events leads to Sunghoon and Y/N being known enemies. Sunghoon always teasing and annoying Y/N while Y/N does her best to get him in trouble every chance she gets. Is that all there is to it though? 

warnings & tags: food, PA’s, a lot of cute sunghoon and y/n moments, CODING TERMS BC ITS MY MINOR DEGREE, just a cute fic hehe, not proof read

word count: 9.6k (?????)

📌: And just like that…we are done with the trope series. I’m not FULLY happy with the final one but it felt like a good way to end the series with something cute and funny hehe enemies to lovers was hard to write without making it superrr cliche but i enjoyed this ahahah. I would like to say thank you so much for all the love and support this series received it really motivates me to post and create more work so please look forward to it!!! This fic is queued to post bc its so late rn >.<

As for my next fic(s) I have a lot of ideas so please look out for updates till then👀  once again thank you so much for all the love and support make sure to like and reblog and i’ll see you at the next one 🥳 AND AS SPOILER MY NEXT FIC IS BASED OFF OF ONE OF MY FAV CHICK FLICKS AHHHH 

©2023 , dazed-hee . Please do not repost , plagiarize or translate anywhere ty!

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