- ̗̀ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 ˎˊ-
- ̗̀ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 ˎˊ-
✏︎ pairing: teacher!vernon x teacher!yn (gn)
✏︎ synopsis: falling for the young and flirty high school history teacher is inevitable especially when he pays for your groceries and calls himself your work husband
✏︎ genre: fluff, romance, comedy
✏︎ warnings: food/drinks, innuendos, insecurities, language, mutual pining (you know that feeling you get when you really like somebody but you can't bring yourself to tell them so all you can do is enjoy the moment that you're spending with them? it's that), skinship, spirit week/rallies should be a warning itself imo, everything that happens in the last chapter
✏︎ wc: 8.8k
✏︎ a/n: the full vernon work husband fic is finally here ahh!! this one is dedicated to those with secret crushes and those who are too shy to confess. I hope this au can give you a bit of comfort, joy, and happiness. please let me know if I missed any warnings! + comments and reviews are always appreciated. I finished editing this A LOT faster than I imagined so pls enjoy my bbs <3
“I need you to go on a double date with me.”
Your friend’s question appears out of nowhere and catches you off-guard. Some of the latte you drink dribbles out of your mouth, runs down your chin, and splatters on your slacks. Your friend quickly leans over the table and takes your cup out of your hand, handing you some napkins. You wipe your chin and dab away at your slacks, groaning at the thought of returning to class and standing in front of your science class with prominently stained pants – cinnamon oat milk flavored if it honestly matters.
“Absolutely not,” you put the soaked napkins on the table and grab a wet wipe from Jeonghan’s stretched hand. He learned to always be prepared when it comes to you – it’s not very often he doesn’t see you with some weird stain on your clothes; after all, you are an Environmental Science teacher.
“Come on, Yn,” he whines while you rub furiously at the stain with the wipe. “I didn’t even tell you when or where the date is going to take place. How could you reject me so quickly?”
“Jeonghan, I really don’t have time right now,” you sigh and drop the wipe next to the wet napkins. He stares at you with pleading eyes, his hands in prayer. “You know how busy I get whenever Spring Break is almost here. We have midterms this week, there’s the spirit rally, and not to mention my errands…” you trail.
“But what if the person I’m meeting is sketchy?” he sulks.
“Then they should be the one afraid because you’re the sketchiest person I know,” you exclaim. “Where did you even meet them in the first place?”
“Tinder,” he takes a sip of his Iced Americano and places the glass cup back down on the beige café table.
“You know what…” you let the thought marinate in your head for a brief moment. “You’re right. They actually might be sketchier than you are.”
He quickly nods his head in agreement. To him, this is a more than good enough reason for you to go on the double date with him.
“But I’m not going on a double date with you. People already get the wrong idea about us.”
.
In the middle of the same café, Seungkwan thanks the barista at the cash register and walks over to the side of the counter to wait for his coffee. While stuffing his wallet into his back pocket, Seungkwan’s eyes gloss over the several artisanal coffee bean bags and teas on display along the white café walls before his eyes wander to the several people sitting in the café. His head gently bops to the music playing in the background while he people watches. There are a few college students hunched over their laptops and a couple of people near the windows having lunch. Sitting in the corner of the room is a familiar face he’s seen on social media and sometimes in passing when he drops by Vernon’s classroom for lunch.
You seem to be bantering with the guy sitting across from you, but Seungkwan can’t hear anything from where he’s standing. From the looks of it, his friend’s earlier apprehensions about your lunch plans seem to be confirmed. His cellphone vibrates in his hand, and he flips it open to look at the text from the same friend who stayed up worrying last night:
[text from: nonie]
nonie: wyd? i'm bored rn bc yn isn't here
kwan: apparently looking at yn on a date
nonie: should I be concerned?
kwan: yeah you should be bc he's pretty handsome
kwan: should be you tho
nonie: see? I told you it was a date bc they styled their hair differently
kwan: but don’t people normally dress differently for dates?
nonie: but yn always dresses nicely bc they spend too much time deciding what they're going to wear for the day. like they even take into consideration the weather changes throughout the day.
nonie: so nice hair = extra effort
kwan: I’m begging you to go get a life
nonie: bro call me
kwan: i'm picking up my coffee now. byeee
.
“You see my wallet?” Jeonghan opens his black wallet in front of him like a picture book for you to see. He tips it forward and opens it slightly so you can see the bills stacked neatly against each other. “I will literally pay you to go on this double date with me. If anything, maybe the friend will be hot and Vernon will get jealous and actually ask you out.”
You roll your eyes at him and motion for him to put his wallet away. You can’t believe he came prepared with his monetary bribe. “But Vernon doesn’t seem like the type to get jealous.”
Your phone pings and three consecutive messages wake your screen:
[text from: work husband]
work husband: I miss you. my lunch sucks today :P
work husband: I’m eating in my classroom today bc I’m avoiding Carl
work husband: fucking Carl
Jeonghan’s eyebrow arches while you try your best to avoid replying to Vernon. Not the type to get jealous my ass, Jeonghan thinks while reluctantly putting his wallet away. Telling you to do your hair differently was his idea. So, if his plan worked, Vernon probably sent you messages because he thinks you’re on a date with somebody.
“How about you ask out Vernon yourself?” Jeonghan takes his provided fork to prod at his forgotten slice of cake in the middle of the table. He knocks off the strawberry at the top of the cake and plunges his metal fork into the tip of the cake. The fluffy spongey matcha cake that sandwiches diced strawberries and fresh crème fraiche? A perfect mouthful.
His question doesn't mean anything in particular. Jeonghan usually asks you whatever he thinks, but you’re glad you aren't drinking anything this time. If you did, your latte was absolutely going to end up anywhere but in your mouth. So while Jeonghan enjoys his dessert, you’re faced with another problem:
“How? I don’t even know if he flirts with me because it’s a part of his work husband act or if it’s because he actually likes me.”
“You bring him lunches every day and he pays for your groceries. I’ve tasted your cooking before,” he says in between bites. “There’s no way that man isn’t in love with you.” He places his fork down and reaches over, taking a sip of his Iced Americano to cancel a bit of the cake’s sweetness. He nods in delight. Going to this café for afternoon tea was honestly such a good idea.
“You know I only bring lunches for him because I always end up cooking extra,” you grumble while thinking about whether or not you should answer his texts.
Your phone pings again. Jeonghan props his elbow on the table and lazily rests his cheek against his knuckle. He notices you itching to pick up your phone and sighs to himself. He’s now halfway through his cake while your apple pie sits in front of you, idle and long forgotten. He thinks that maybe if he feeds you some of his cake you would forgive him for eating your slice.
“I’m literally your best friend. Shouldn’t I be the one you’re cooking for?” he huffs.
Your phone is in your hand. You’ve managed to go a few minutes without replying back to Vernon. Jeonghan is secretly proud of you.
He waves his fork in front of your lip to offer you a bite of the cake. When you notice, you open your mouth to accept his offer.
Fuck yes, he thinks after he sees you close your mouth and chew. He immediately reaches over to swap his half-eaten plate for yours.
[text from: work husband]
work husband: oh I signed us up for crowd control for this Friday’s spirit rally because I know you don’t want to participate in the spirit rally games.
work bb: oh thank god. I completely forgot signups were today.
work bb: if I knew I was going to have to attend spirit rallies again I would’ve never become a high school teacher
work husband: but you wouldn’t have met me :c
Jeonghan leaves his seat to walk to your side while you quickly reply back to Vernon. He tries to look over your shoulder while you shrug him off, turning your body toward the window. Jeonghan is positive that there is no way Vernon isn’t in love with you.
“Anyway,” Jeonghan gives up and returns back to his seat. “I already told my date you agreed to the double date. See you this Saturday.”
“What?” you look up at your best friend and he shrugs while picking up the half-eaten slices of cake and pie.
“Our lunch break is almost over. I’m going to go get these wrapped so you can take them with you to work. Can you throw away our trash? I’ll come back for the drinks.”
[text from: work husband]
work husband: I think some students are filming tiktoks outside my room. I’m going to go scare them.
You tell Jeonghan to order you another cake while he’s getting yours boxed at the counter.
chapter two: gymnasium; spirit rally
It honestly did not make sense at all that Friday’s Spirit Week theme would be called “Tie-Dye Friday,” when Tuesday or Thursday are arguably days that better suit the theme. Nevertheless, you’re standing with Vernon at the side of the school gymnasium wearing the sweatshirt he lent you during the few minutes before your second period class started. Your little interaction certainly caught the attention of some students, and it has been the subject of a majority of their conversations. Because when you have two young and hot teachers at your school who seem to be really close friends, word spreads, and ships sail.
The two of you were hired at the same time two years ago, both fresh out of college with a teaching certificate in hand. It is a pretty distinguished school district, a district that receives awards every year for its rigorous pedagogy. In all honesty, you and Vernon landed your jobs by an extreme stroke of luck. This school district? Hiring not one but two new teachers with little to no teaching experience? There were a few positions open because some teachers were retiring. The teacher who was hired before you had to leave the job for personal reasons, and the teacher hired after that one never showed up for training. It kept going on. You were their last option. Putting pride aside, you were just happy someone decided to hire you. But maybe it was the same stroke of luck that brought the two of you together.
You met Vernon during the summer orientation and quickly became friends, realizing that the two of you had to stick together to try to make it through your first year of teaching. Your classrooms are close together, and he would stop by for a quick chat during breaks, coming over to tease you or disrupt your class. You don’t know what he is doing half the time, but he’s a good teacher. His class is relatively easy as long as you do the studying, and the tests are hard enough that you can’t bullshit your way through and expect an A – they’re in essay question formats after all. Despite his easygoing personality and calm demeanor, rumor says that he’s the strictest person when it comes to testing season. (Mafia boss the students call it.)
But here you are, standing next to your crush wearing one of his most cherished sweatshirts while a bunch of high schoolers sit on the bleachers and on the wooden floors. A student walks up to the two of you and asks if they could use the restroom. Vernon nods, and the student leaves. Vernon tells you that when a student directly asks you if they could leave the assembly, he would answer for you. He knows you’re the shyer one between the two of you.
When you have a crush, a big and stinky larger than the sunflowers growing in the garden in front of your classroom type of crush, you cherish any moment spent with them because you never know when the next moment will come.
“Don’t you have to go get your driver’s license changed?” Jeonghan asked you one night while the two of you were eating dinner at your apartment.
You scrunched your eyebrows together deep in thought, “I don’t think it’s expiring soon.”
“Your address doesn’t match the one on your license though,” Jeonghan pointed at your wallet on counter above the sink.
You got up from the couch and walked over to grab your wallet. You were pretty sure you had at least two years until your license expired, but it didn’t hurt to check. You opened your wallet and looked through the transparent slot in which you put your wallet.
“But my address is correct,” you walked back to the living room and pulled out your license for your best friend to see.
The crowd cheers as students are called from each year to participate in the next activity. It’s cacophonous, but you don’t mind. You join their rambunctiousness – laughing and cheering with those around you.
Vernon leans in and gently nudges your left arm, “You look nice.” He compliments loudly enough so only you can hear.
You grin and raise your left arm in front of you to admire the mix of blue, white, and grey. The fabric smells fresh and feels soft against your skin. It was probably treated with the fabric softener he bought the last time the two of you ran errands together. “I’ll return this to you after I wash it,” you promise him.
“Keep it,” his hands automatically reach to adjust the hood on your sweater so it lays nice and even against your back. “It looks good on you,” he murmurs when he stands in front of you while adjusting and pulling the strings in front of your neck so they’re even.
More cheers erupt from the crowd in front of you, but you are too busy trying to keep yourself from blushing to even care about what is happening in front of you. A few students could’ve exited the building without asking, and you still wouldn’t care.
“No, it’s definitely wrong,” he took the license from your hand and tapped his finger on the printed country.
You leaned in to look at the error on your card.
“It should say Simp Nation right here,” he snickers.
You snatched your license from his hand, “I’m kicking you out of my apartment.”
Over the course of the next few minutes, they make the teachers participate in an obstacle course, show a video about Spring Break safety, and have the school band perform. Vernon somehow procured two seats so the two of you could sit instead of stand the whole time. In the middle of talking to your co-worker about grading midterms, you hear the entire student body shouting for the both of you.
You look up to see some participants making their way to the center of the gymnasium for some game they were nominated to participate in. The two of you shake your heads and politely deny their request. They groan in response, but it can’t be helped. Everybody knew that the two of you rarely participated in assemblies, especially when it came to doing anything remotely physical. Although the two of you are the high school’s youngest staff members, the two of you are also some of the most unmotivated and uncompetitive people to ever exist. Everybody already knew that the two of you were going to reject their request, but it never hurt to try. The most the two of you have done during a spirit rally was walk across the gymnasium while holding a banner the students made. There was also that other time the two of you volunteered to participate in the spicy noodle challenge because the two of you were starving, but that was honestly about it.
When the assembly ends the two of you direct the students out of the gymnasium and stay behind to pick up forgotten belongings to bring to the lost and found.
“Let me take those for you,” he takes the sweaters out of your arms for you. “Do you have any lunch plans today?”
“Yeah I do,” you reply. You look at his face to see if he is at all disappointed. His expression remains blank and he purses his lips.
“It’s your loss,” he makes his way to the gym doors while you walk over to stack the chairs the two of you sat in. “My Rubiks Cube club is having a crazy pizza party,” he calls on his way out.
.
If you count a bunch of students lounging around a history classroom with a bunch of Star Wars and other pop culture memorabilia trying to solve their different types of collectible cubes a party, then this one is a banger. A rager even.
Mr. Chwe sits at his desk, right leg anxiously bouncing up and down while he holds his second slice of pizza in his hand. He thought that he managed to play it cool when you told him you had plans, but in reality, the thought of you having lunch plans for the second time this week is making him mentally scream on top of his imaginary mountain into the empty abyss below.
In the background, Dokyeom screams when he solves another side of his Megaminx and proudly holds it up for his club members to see.
[text from: nonie]
nonie: seungkwannn
nonie: help me
kwan: see, you wouldn’t be freaking out if you just asked yn on a date
kwan: you’re constantly flirting with them. I don’t see how you never accidentally asked them out
nonie: I have a bunch of times but they never take me seriously
nonie: yn told me they have plans for lunch
nonie: do you think they’re on a date again?
kwan: oh speaking of dates I have a double date this Saturday
nonie: wait keep talking about that so I stop thinking about yn
kwan: when do you not think about yn?
nonie: never
nonie: they’re actually wearing my sweatshirt today. can you believe it?
kwan: my best friend is a SIMP!
kwan: a shy one who won’t properly confess his feelings! but still!! a simp!!!
kwan: one of my friends from work needed someone to tag along because they’re meeting someone they met on Tinder. I only agreed because they said they would cover one of my overtime shifts for me
nonie: oh that’s scary. the tinder part. not the overtime part.
kwan: right?
nonie: but the idea of yn going on a date that’s not with me is scarier.
kwan: no wonder you’re a history teacher
nonie: because the humanities is for hot people?
kwan: because you’re a loser
kwan: like I bet you’re actually enjoying the pizza party with your lame rubiks club rn
nonie: oh my god I’m a loser
kwan: a hot one tho!
kwan: wait yn’s classroom is literally under yours. can’t you just go downstairs and check if they’re there?
kwan: did you not do that before you started overthinking?
kwan: Vernon?
.
You adjust your sunhat to shield your face from the brazen afternoon sun. You’re in your gardening overalls, Vernon’s sweatshirt folded neatly and tucked away in your classroom for the time being. It’s finally Spring and you’re tending to the nursery pots in the small garden located outside of your classroom. Around you, your agriculture club works and chats amongst themselves.
Intrusive thoughts are distracting you from what would usually be a lovely day in your garden. Maybe you should’ve told Vernon that you were going to be in the garden with your club today. Vernon probably isn’t overthinking it like how you are, right? But still, was saying you had plans a little too much? Does it sound like you had something important to tend to?
You sigh and stand to stretch your knees. Behind you, your little garden is beautiful, lush, and thriving. The flowers are in bloom and provide shade for the vegetables in the dirt. Everything seems to be thriving and buzzing with life. It makes you happy to see how far the little seedlings have grown.
A student arrives with refreshments that they picked up for everybody. You tell your club to take a break under the shade. It would be a shame if one of them has heatstroke. You take off your gloves and shove them in your side pockets. Your phone pings in the front pocket of your overalls while you make your way into your cool classroom.
[text from: work husband]
work husband: hi love. you took the bus to work today, right?
work husband: let’s pick up some groceries after work and I’ll drop you off at your place
work bb: even when I smell like dirt?
work husband: you’re an envisci teacher. I’d be concerned if you didn’t smell like dirt
work bb: you don’t have anything to do tonight right?
work husband: did you just assume I have no plans on a Friday night
work bb: omg sorry it’s because we always hang after work on Fridays
work husband: no you’re actually right. I have no plans.
work bb: then I’ll cook dinner for us
work husband: I know I’m already work-married to you, but I’m going to marry you one day
work husband: lol
work bb: haha silly
“Teacher Yn,” a couple students approach you while you set your phone face down on your desk.
“Hmm?” you up at them while taking off your sunhat.
“Can we send you a list of ideas we came up for our club education trip? We know we have to fulfill the requirement before the end of the semester, but we wanted to get it out of the way.”
You nod at them, “Sounds fine by me.” You pull up a website on your desktop and show it to your students, “Did you guys include the city garden? It’s pretty close by and it’s pretty this time of year.”
“Did you choose that place so Mr. Chwe can tag along? I heard he likes running there.”
You look at your students in disbelief. How did they even find out things like that?
Just then, someone knocks loudly on your open door. All eyes turn to see Vernon standing at the opening with his gaggle of students behind him, Rubiks Cubes, pizza boxes, and packs of sodas in their hands.
“I brought nerds and pizza.”
One of your students leans in and whispers to you, “Looks like your boyfriend is here.”
You don’t know if you should be happy or if you should consider this to be one of the most horribly timed entrances of all time. You decide you’re going to be happy – it’s Vernon after all.
chapter three: grocery store; dinner
People are definitely staring at the two of you while you grocery shop together. It’s not because the two of you are wearing your tie-dye outfits from earlier today, but because of the fact that Vernon is handsome. At least that’s what you believe. It’s enough to make the other shoppers stare for at least a brief second before they return to their usual routes.
You think your shoes covered in dirt are a direct juxtaposition to his pristine white sneakers. There’s a part of you that will always be insecure whenever you’re in public with your crush, but your hand in his reassures you otherwise.
“Do you think people don’t approach you at grocery stores because I’m next to you?” you ask him while the two of you are hunched over the leafy green section. A handwritten sign states the organic kale is finally on sale.
“Why would you think that?” Vernon curiously asks you. His tone is a bit upset, but he still peruses through a few bundles of kale before choosing the one he like most. He drops it in the plastic bag you opened for him.
“I don’t know,” you shrug while placing the bagged kale into the shopping cart. “You’re handsome and people stare, but nobody is making a move.”
“I don’t care about other people,” he muses. He reaches for the baby carrots on the top shelf and passes the bag to you. “You know I only have eyes for you.”
You push the shopping cart to the fruit section and he follows closely behind you, happy his comment made your ears turn red. He knows you’re embarrassed and is purposely moving onto the fruit section when the two of you still have a few more greens to buy.
But it’s true, he only has eyes on you. Only you don’t seem to realize that he does. He constantly tells you his feelings, but you never seem to take him seriously. He clings onto you and holds your hand in public because he also sees people looking at you. Was it wrong of him to be jealous? Was it wrong to want to hold your hand at all times? Maybe it’s his fault you never do, yet he can only wish for you to take him seriously.
“Hey babe,” Vernon calls to you from the mountain of potatoes in front of him. He sees your figure shoot up like a meerkat standing among pyramids of fruit, looking side-to-side to try to locate the familiar voice. “Right here,” he calls to you again, this time holding a bag of potatoes above his head. He laughs when he sees you cover your face in mortification while you cart your way over to him. You’re cute, he thinks. His little meerkat.
.
The two of you pose while he takes a picture of the two of you in the black and white monitoring screen above the self-checkout machine. He scans his loyalty card and begins to scan the items in the cart.
“Hey Vern,” you pass him a box of pasta for him to scan.
“Yes, baby?” he winks while taking the box from you.
“Why do you call yourself my work husband even when we’re off work?” you ask him while passing him a bag of bagels.
“You’re right. If we’re off work then that just means I’m your husband,” he takes the bag from your hand and scans it. “Because the adjective describes the fact that we’re at work, but we’re not at work. So just call me husband.”
“Smartass,” you grumble to yourself. He’s constantly embarrassing you, but you somehow like it.
“What is that?” he pokes at the touchscreen. He clearly heard you grumble to yourself.
Checkout. Beep. No Bags. Beep. Credit/Debit. Beep.
“Are you filing for a divorce just because we’re not at work?” he purposely makes his voice louder than usual and brings his phone to the screen to pay for the groceries. “Do I mean nothing to you?” his tone clearly implies he’s poking fun at you, but it’s enough to let the workers around you two eavesdrop.
“Vernon, oh my god,” you quickly shuffle to his left to put the items in the reusable tote bags in the cart behind the two of you. “People are staring.” You pull your hood over your head and he gently pulls it back down, quickly running his fingers through your hair to minimize the mess.
The workers point and giggle at you two before going back to work, telling those in line to move to an open self-checkout machine.
“Just like how I stare at you at work?” he takes the receipt and consecutive coupons from the mouth of the machine and folds it before putting it in his back pocket. He moves the shopping cart behind the two of you and separates the cold items from the fresh and boxed items.
“Babe, I’m going to file for divorce,” you grab the bag of baby carrots and wave it in front of his face. “And I’m taking the children with me.”
“Aww you called me babe.”
.
You wish you could be as open as Vernon when it comes to flirting, but at the same time, the jokes and the act that the two of you put on around each other often times sound and feel a little too real. Your feelings for him are real, but you struggle to understand whether or not he’s joking with you. You know you could just ask him, but there’s a ninety percent chance he would joke with you and a ten percent chance he would tell you the truth. However, because of how the two of you normalized flirting with each other, you know you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between his truth and his jokes. You’re afraid of telling him the truth, but you’re also afraid of letting go of this false reality the two of you created.
Where is the thin line between flirting romantically and flirting jokingly? How do you find it? How do you cross to the romantic side?
The two of you are currently in you apartment. His shoes are placed in the usually open spot next to yours on the shoe rack, and his car keys are in the ceramic tray next to yours. You are prepping the ingredients for dinner while he sorts the groceries he bought into their rightful places in your tiny kitchen.
“You know my student, Chan, right? The one who I swear is out to get me?” your co-worker asks you nonchalantly while reaching above your head to open your white kitchen cabinet. “Right when I was about to play a video for the class, Chan raises his hand and has the audacity to ask me if I’m ever going to teach them.”
“How did you respond?” you lean over the kitchen counter to shut the microwave door and start the timer. You’re used to his daily post-class lunchtime rants, but he somehow forgot to tell you until he saw the picture of the two at orientation stuck on your refrigerator with a magnetic turtle.
Vernon sighs while looking through the cabinet contents, “I called him lame and told him to watch the damn Crash Course video.”
He gently places his palm on top of your head to shield your head from getting hit when he swings the cabinet door close, a colander in his other hand. He places the colander in the sink behind the two of you and turns back to you. He is interested in what is in the microwave and mimics your position, bending over to stare through the translucent screen. It’s hard to make out what is spinning slowly through the glass so he leans in, accidentally brushing his shoulder against yours for a brief moment. It is brief, but it is enough to make you question what you have done in your past life to deserve this moment.
“Wait,” you turn your head to look at your co-worker beside you, curiously asking, “students actually get annoyed when we show videos in class?”
“I don’t know,” he stands upright and scratches his head, his expression clearly showing that he was dumbfounded that a student would be against watching videos. He leans against the back counter and crosses his arms. He frowns. “I mean, am I ever going to tell them that watching videos stimulates different modes of cognitive learning? Of course not,” he answers his own question. “I’m the cool teacher.”
Spoken like a mantra.
“I’m just defrosting the garlic bread so I can pop it into the oven so you can snack while I cook.” You notice he is looking around your kitchen. You think it’s because he doesn’t have space to exit with the tote bags on the floor and the lack of mobile space in your kitchen. “Did you want to exit? Let me move out of the way so you can go chill or grade in the living room.”
It’s exactly the opposite of what you think.
Vernon loves your place despite how much you hate its small size. To him, your tiny apartment feels like home. You’ve told him several times how much you want to move out. You hate how you don’t have a desk to do your work on. You hate how your bed is literally pushed in the corner of your bedroom against the wall and window. You even hate how there’s no closet in your bedroom so you have to use the hallway closet as your closet.
He wishes you know just how much he loves it when he can hear the soft hum of the in-unit washer and dryer in the background while he lounges on your plush sofa. Because of the size of your apartment, the smell of your baking sometimes lingers for hours. Because of the lack of space, you’re forced to display many of your things for your guests to see instead of tucking them away in some storage bin or cabinet. There are postcards your friends sent from around the world, pictures on the fridge, awards hung on walls, and small trinkets placed all around your apartment. The sticky notes the two of you exchanged during orientation are pinned to your corkboard. Not to mention, the sectional sofa with the chaise you bought with your first paycheck proudly lines your living room. It’s one of the most comfortable things he’s fallen asleep on. Although the apartment may seem suffocating at times, this apartment is you personified.
Of course, it wasn’t like he never offered you to move into his place multiple times in the past. You slapped his arm in response every time he suggested.
.
Earlier, the two of you decided to power through grading midterm papers for your respective classes so the two of you could freely enjoy Spring Break without any worries. It is now nearing midnight when you blindly reach into the popcorn bowl on the side table beside you only to feel nothing. You are out of movie snacks. Your legs are stretched out on your chaise and Vernon’s head is still in your lap, pointed toward the second movie the two of you are watching that night. You decide to not get up to make more popcorn just in case he is sleeping.
Next to the empty popcorn bowl, your cellphone pings and Vernon stirs.
Damn you, cellphone.
There is another notification sound, and Vernon pushes himself off your lap to sit up. You look over at your phone. It’s fucking Yoon Jeonghan.
[text from: devil’s incarnate]
devil’s incarnate: don’t fowget about ouw double date t-tomowwow (//▽//)
devil’s incarnate: the reservation is at noon at the bistro opposite of the café we went for lunch
headache personified: WHY MUST YOU RUIN EVERYTHING FOR ME
Vernon somehow manages to quietly squeeze himself behind you while you lift yourself to text Jeonghan. When you put your phone down he tugs your body closer to his, his legs stretched out and sandwiching yours. He points to the blanket at the foot of the chaise and he lets go of his arms around you so you can lean forward to grab the blanket.
You open the blanket so it covers both of you and his arms sneak around your stomach, pulling you into his chest. He puts his chin on your shoulder to see the screen in front of you. He emanates warmth like a human-sized hand warmer, like the warm summer sun on your skin the first day you met him.
About halfway into the movie your body naturally turned to lay against his. You’re not watching the movie anymore because he knows you’re tired. It’s not the first time the two of you have cuddled this closely before, but he only hopes you mistake his uncontrollable fast heartbeat as his reaction to the movie.
You’re fiddling with the strings on his clean hoodie and he takes your hand in his and puts it on his chest.
“The plot is really good,” he hopes you can feel his chest vibrate.
You do. You’re on cloud nine.
“You can stay over if you’re not comfortable driving back at this hour,” you suggest to him. Your hand goes back to playing with the aglet on his hoodie string.
“Mmm,” the thought of leaving makes him groan. “I’ll stay until the movie ends.”
In the closet toward the entrance, your dryer hums. The air smells like rose petals and warm vanilla. In his heart he knows the two of you are way past the simple “work spouse” phase. He hugs you tighter and wishes the movie never ends.
[text from: devil’s incarnate]
devil’s incarnate: btw I’m picking you up so you have no way of escaping (o¬‿¬o )
devil’s incarnate: see you soon baby <33 -xoxo
chapter four: bistro; double date
The loud knocking on your front door causes you to jolt awake and fling the blanket covering you onto the living room floor. You can recognize that impatient knock anywhere. However, what you’re afraid of is not the knocking sound, but the person currently knocking.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” you repeat while you sit up and look around the living room. You realize it’s Saturday morning. The television is turned off, and you can still see the stacked pile of midterms pushed to the side of your coffee table. Is Vernon still in your apartment?
Your phone is ringing on the side table next to you. You look over your pillow from your bedroom. I don’t remember bringing one from my bedroom. You see the Caller ID. It’s Jeonghan trying to reach you from outside your door.
Then you see it, a light blue sticky note stuck in the empty popcorn bowl next to your phone. It’s his handwriting, tiny and scrawled. He says he took your laundry out of the dryer and took out the trash on his way out. He’s sorry he couldn’t lock the door. There’s a tiny heart next to his initials. He doesn’t tell you when he left.
The note is in your hand when Jeonghan barges into your apartment and shuts the door behind him. He stands in the doorway and stares at you, his hands on his waist. He’s annoyed.
Your apartment is silent. Even leaky faucet decides to rest for a while. You swear you can hear your best friend’s heavy breathing.
“I’m sorry,” you squeak while you stand up to face him, hiding the note behind your back.
“I. Sent. You. So. Many. Texts,” he roughly kicks off his shoes and storms into your living room.
You scream when you realize he is making his way over to you. When he reaches your sofa, the two of you circle around your coffee table.
“I’ve been outside your door knocking like a man trying to win back his ex. Do you know how embarrassing that was for me?” He wants to strangle you at this point, but he can’t because he needs you to go on the double date with him. “And I couldn’t even park in your second parking spot because guess who I saw get into his car in your second parking spot in the morning?”
Does that mean Vernon slept over last night? And Jeonghan now knows about it?
He lunges. You scream again.
.
Seungkwan sits on Vernon’s barstool and faces the door, ready to read his friend to filth the moment he walks into the door. His legs are crossed and he’s counting the number of cardboard boxes stacked near Vernon’s front door. It’s Saturday morning and Vernon isn’t in his own apartment. He’s a loser who can’t even properly confess his feelings to his crush – where the hell was he last night?
Seungkwan has a double-date to attend in about an hour. For him, lecturing Vernon would take at least 15 minutes and asking for opinions for his outfits would take around 5 minutes. Driving would take at least 10 minutes if it was all green lights. However, if there is a stop light or two-
Vernon calmly unlocks his door and opens the door to see his friend sitting at his counter. It’s totally normal to have Seungkwan invite himself into his apartment – he gave him a spare key for a reason. However, when Vernon is halfway through the doorframe, he realizes he’s wearing his extra set of clothes he sometimes leaves at your place. He is also holding his work bag from yesterday. Seungkwan seems to have already noticed as his legs uncross and his eyes widen at the sight of his friend. Vernon slowly backs out and closes his front door ready to leave and never come back. Start a new life maybe.
“Get your ass back here,” he hears Seungkwan’s menacingly sweet voice from the other side of the door.
He audibly sighs. He has no choice but to open the door.
.
You’re folding your laundry in the backseat of Jeonghan’s car while he drives the two of you to the double date. You can tell he’s still angry – his sleeves are rolled up. He already undid his collar to let off some steam and pent up anger when you told him you didn’t want to go on the date. You can see the gorilla grip he has on his steering wheel. His arm veins protrude prominently, and you swear you can see them throb. Jeonghan glares at you through his rearview mirror every chance he can get, so you sulk in his backseat and quietly fold your clothes. You probably also lost your aux privileges. For the next week or month maybe.
He purposely makes a hard break at a stop sign when nobody is around, and some of your folded clothes launch themselves to his car floor. You look at your t-shirt crumple to the floor and bite your lower lip. You nod to yourself. You deserve this. You were on a winning streak last night so karma (Jeonghan) has to show up to make sure everything is set at equilibrium. There must be balance to this world.
“Did you shower last night?” Jeonghan softly asks you when he notices you’re a lot quieter than usual. He turns on his right blinker, ready to make a right.
“Of course I did,” you pouted when you realized your favorite pair of socks rolled under the front seat. “I smelled like dirt.”
“So you showered while a man was over?” he snickers. There’s a glimmer in his eye. “Naughty.”
“He was grading in my living room,” you protest while looking out the window. Your clothes are folded and placed back in the laundry basket.
You can tell Jeonghan’s anger is subsiding. He rolls his shoulder backwards and stretches his neck left and right. The gorilla grip is gone. You know he cares for you. That you are certain of.
The two of you are still relatively early when Jeonghan parks. He rolls down his windows and turns of the engine and then his car. He drops his car keys in his cupholder and turns back to look at you. He smiles.
“Spill.”
.
Seungkwan is holding onto the car handle above his seat for dear life.
“So I woke up with Yn in my arms, but their phone was going off like crazy because someone was spam texting them. I reach over to switch their phone to silent because I’m a good husband who cares about Yn getting a good sleep, but I see the same person texting them and calling them. Bro this person was using all the pet names that I use. So, already, in my mind I was like ‘oh my god am I a home wrecker?’ And then I looked at their phone again even though I shouldn’t have been looking through their notifications, but it was just right there and I saw that he said he was going to come over soon because they have a date. So I tidied up a bit and packed my bags and zoomed out of there. Because what if they’re really dating? What if he’s the same guy you saw at the café? Dude my mind was racing so much. But Yn looked so peaceful and serene. I was going to melt then and there and then reality hit me: I may have just been a homewrecker. But it all doesn’t make sense because their lock screen photo is the photo I took of us at the grocery story yesterday. Wouldn’t it make more sense if your lock screen photo was your boyfriend instead? So I was freaking out and I’m still freaking out. My non-existent love life is in shambles bro.”
“Is this car ride over?” Seungkwan’s eyes are closed and his knuckles are turning white. “Am I alive? Is the car in one piece?”
Vernon unbuckles his seatbelt and then Seungkwan’s, “Yeah dude. I parked a few minutes ago. Were you listening to me rant at all?”
“I’m going to step out and take a breather,” Seungkwan nods to himself. It was his fault for making Vernon drive. He knows how fast Vernon can drive, but he didn’t take into consideration that he would be sitting in the passenger seat. Was it worth it in the end to arrive early to a date he wasn’t even going to enjoy?
He opens the car door and stretches his legs. “Do you see that café across the street?” he points at the café he visited earlier this week. “Please stay in there and clear your head. Drink some tea. Coffee will make you even more jittery.”
Seungkwan exits the car and shuts the door. Before he starts walking towards the front entrance, he turns around and points at Vernon who looks like he is on the brink of a mental breakdown, “But stay in there in case I need an escape plan.”
.
Vernon recognizes this café as the same café printed on the tiny cake roll box you left on his desk earlier this week. The sticky note you attached to the underside of the box is tucked away in his wallet as are some of the other ones you wrote for him in the past. He keeps them all and occasionally switches them depending on his mood.
Did you miss me? the note reads. I’m sorry you had to eat lunch alone. This roll reminded me of you because it’s round like your hair when it’s flat. HA! Did you think I was going to write “sweet?” -yn ;-)
He’s been staring at the chalkboard menu for the past few minutes, his eyes squinted and his head deep in thought. The baristas think he’s having a hard time looking at the menu up above and offer him a physical menu in larger print. It takes a few tries to get his attention, but he bashfully takes the menu from them and moves to the side so the incoming customers can order their drinks and other menu items.
He regrets not asking you out sooner. He’s sulking and mentally beating himself up in a café in which his crush had a date a few days ago. How lame is that? While you’re out enjoying your date and probably having the time of your life, he’s regretting all of the chances he didn’t take in the past. But the angel on his shoulder reassures him – he was still by your side despite not taking the chances in the past. It comforts him a bit. Maybe is all just a big misunderstanding. Maybe you don’t have a boyfriend. Vernon promises himself while walking up to the counter to order his drink: if the universe sends him a sign anytime soon, he is going to take it. No questions asked.
[text from: kwan]
kwan: sos
nonie: do you think I should go for a fruit tea today?
kwan: I s2g if you don’t get your ass over here
nonie: how bad can your date be?
nonie: did the food come out already?
kwan: my coworker is meeting yn’s bf
kwan: MY COWORKER IS MEETING YN’S BF FOR OUR DOUBLE DATE
kwan: YN’S BOYFRIEND IS A CHEATER
nonie: YOU FR?
nonie: WHO TF WOULD HAVE THE AUDACITY TO DO THAT TO YN?
kwan: YOU’RE A TEACHER. COME TEACH HIM A LESSON.
nonie: I’M COMING
kwan: not the face tho. it’s a money maker
nonie: WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON?
Vernon practically sprints out of the café. Thank you universe!
.
[text from: devil’s incarnate]
devil’s incarnate: did u grab my wallet?
devil’s incarnate: save me. my date came and I was totally catfished (╬`益´)
devil’s incarnate: and your date is sending me death glares for some reason O.o
headache personified: when we go home we’re signing you up for bumble
headache personified: I’m almost at the front entrance. you want me to act like you’re my bf?
devil’s incarnate: oh we haven’t used that tactic in a long time
headache personified: wait is that you three under the umbrella at the porch?
headache personified: is my date vernon’s seungkwan?
devil’s incarnate: bro how should I know how vernon’s seungkwan looks like
devil’s incarnate: ahh fuck it I’ll just be mean and call my date out for catfishing me.
devil’s incarnate: can you record for me <3 -xoxo
You’re already outside the front entrance when you think about ways to try to avoid Seungkwan while you're inside the bistro. You think if you walk along the bistro’s perimeter instead of heading inside the bistro, you can get a better video angle of Jeonghan without having to show your face to Seungkwan. However, someone gently grabs onto your arm and tugs on it.
You turn around and you're surprised to see Vernon looking back at you. He looks frazzled and out of breath. You wonder if he really goes jogging in the city garden like what your students said.
“Hear me out. I have to tell you something,” he pleads.
Your heart is screaming Omg it’s Vernon! Vernon! but you’re worried Jeonghan might get mad at you if you don’t record him while he’s lecturing the catfish. You can probably email the bistro for a video recording tomorrow. If Jeonghan draws enough attention, you can probably have one of the bistro patrons text you a recording of the interaction.
“I had so many chances to tell you how I really feel, but I keep beating myself up for not telling you my feelings. I really like you. I really do,” he takes both of your hands in his hand. “And I don’t want you to go in and end up with someone who is on a date with another person.”
Fuck Jeonghan’s video. Vernon is actually confessing to you. Yet at the same time, something about his confession doesn’t really make sense. How did he find out about your double date?
“What do you mean you catfished me because you thought I was a catfish? Have you seen me?” you can hear Jeonghan’s shrill voice screeching from where you’re standing. You imagine he’s standing up and gesturing at his own face. “Why would I need to catfish as someone else?” You swear you can also hear Seungkwan laughing.
Vernon also seems to recognize Seungkwan’s laughter. His mouth hangs slightly agape and he looks at you and back at the patio in horror.
In that moment, everything made sense. Seungkwan probably texted Vernon that Jeonghan showed up to the date while believing you were dating Jeonghan. It’s honestly not the first time the confusion happened. You smile and pull him in a hug.
“The person I like thinks my best friend is cheating on me when in reality I was forced to go on a double date. So if anything, you just stopped me from going on a date with Seungkwan before I even went on a date with you,” you laugh into his chest. “Did you really run to try stop me from seeing my best friend cheat on me?”
He hugs you back and you can hear his heart beat slow down. He’s relieved.
“Baby,” he hums into your hair.
“Hmm?” you look up at him.
“Do you still want to call me your work husband at work even if I become your boyfriend?”
You groan in embarrassment while he laughs at you. He separates from you and starts walking backwards with his hand stretched out.
“Let’s go on a date. I heard the café across the street has really good cake rolls.”
He’s waiting for you to come hold his hand.
You can still hear Jeonghan yelling in the background. You think Seungkwan is also yelling with him. Considering the fact that they haven’t been kicked out already, the two of you know they’ll be fine without the two of you.
“The ones that look like your hair when it’s flat?” you catch up to him and interlock your hand with his.
“Exactly.”
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More Posts from Seoksoop and Others
MESSENGER; HRJ SMAU
[★]; YOU FIND A PHONE NUMBER WRITTEN ON THE MIRROR OF THE SULIM LIBRARY'S SECOND FLOOR BATHROOM. It's scrawled messily across the glass in erasable expo marker, the handwriting underneath almost closer to hieroglyphics than lettering— and what you thought it read, was 'SEND DUCK PICS FOR A GOOD TIME.'
(You suppose, in hindsight, it was a good thing this person's penmanship was so shit— because if you knew what it really said, you might have never stumbled across the oddly intriguing inbox of one Huang Renjun.)
info;
smau (with many written parts)
renjun x fem!reader
strangers to lovers
quotations means written, no quotes means text!
PART 1: DUCK DEALER
PART 2: PICS OR IT DIDN'T HAPPEN
PART 3: 2AM
PART 4: "COFFEE VS TEA"
PART 5: SPORT BALL
PART 6: "FACE TO FACE"
PART 7: STUBBORN
PART 8: "SHH!"
PART 9: ONE LAST TIME?
PART 10: QUICK THINKING
PART 11: BRIBERY ♥︎
PART 12: "SWITCH UP"
PART 13: BUNNY TAX
PART 14: WRITING ON THE WALL
PART 15: "TWO FACES"
PART 16: STUDDY BUDDY
PART 17: DAYS FLYIN' BY
[and more to come soon...!]
LAST UPDATED: APR 24, 2024
Enemy ‖ eight
Taehyung rethinks his actions while you have a hard time dealing with them.
⤑ word count: 9.2k ⤑ pairing: taehyung x reader ⤑ genre: smut, friends with benefits, non-idol!au, fuckboy!taehyung ⤑ warnings: 18+ minors dni! discussions about sexual acts ⤑ prev. chapter ‖ next chapter ‖ series masterpost ‖ updates ⤑ read on AO3
you can find the masterlist here and share your feedback with me here, if you want to. if you enjoy reading my stories, please consider supporting me using buymeacoffee. thank you! :)
Taehyung ran up the stairs and barged into the room as fast as he could, sweat washing over him as he thought about all the things that could have gone wrong in the meantime. A sigh of relief left his mouth when he realized that your clothes were still there and that no freaks had entered the room in the meantime. Well, except him, but he was the type of freak you were okay with. Maybe not anymore, but that was yet to be determined at that point.
“It’s me!” Taehyung shouted loud enough for you to hear him since it was obvious you were still in the bathroom. “I’ll watch the door.”
You didn’t say anything back, but Taehyung heard you turning on the water. As he sat on the bed and listened to you shower, he realized that Yoongi was right: he was a total asshole who was so full of himself and this idea that he was so much better than everyone out there who let themselves care about others.
“But why do I care?” Taehyung shrugged. “You don’t stay around after a hookup, right?”
Yoongi’s eyes turned into slits as he gave his friend a glare that gave off exactly what he was feeling. “You care, Taehyung, whether you like it or not. You want a deal with this girl because you don’t want her to be with other people. You’re mad at Hoseok for interfering, which is totally fine if you want her for yourself, and you’re mad at yourself for being unable to admit it,” Yoongi explained while shaking his head at Taehyung, acting like he was disgusted with what he’d just heard. “All this time, I’ve been trying to get you to realize it, but you have to fight me every step of the way.”
“I’ve never said that,” Taehyung was quick to respond, refusing to admit to something that could have easily been true. Yoongi knew him well, and there were a lot of things to unpack in what he’d just said.
“Oh, really? You didn’t tell me you two were exclusively fucking each other?”
Ah, Yoongi slipped up. Taehyung saw a chance and took it. “Fucking and dating aren’t the same thing.”
“Yeah, I get that, trust me. But when was the last time you took a girl out for breakfast after having sex with her? Never. The last time you let someone spend the night at yours? Never. You spending a night and the morning with a girl? Unheard of,” Yoongi said in a spiteful tone, stopping just to raise his eyebrows at his friend. “But here you are, breaking all your stupid rules for this super sweet girl who seems to be able to look past all the nastiness you exude and likes you for who you are. And then, to get back at me and prove me wrong, you treat her like she’s cheap and replaceable when we both know she isn’t. Otherwise, you would have already replaced her a long time ago.”
“Maybe.” Taehyung shrugged, wondering why he felt terrible all of a sudden. “She’s a nice girl. But our deal is about sex.”
“You don’t know how to treat someone you like with respect. You really think a woman who cares enough about you to let you fuck her over and over again will be okay with you doing that to her and then walking out. How are you this emotionally stunted, man? Who hurt you?” Yoongi placed his hand on Taehyung’s shoulder and patted it. “I’m telling you, if you don’t go upstairs and talk to this girl, your deal is off for good. But, I think that’s better for her unless you do something about the way you’re acting.”
Taehyung huffed at his friend. Wasn’t he already making a fool out of himself by treating you a lot better than anyone else? “I don’t know what else to do other than treat her like I’ve been treating her.”
“Really?” Yoongi leaned in, an inch away from his face, and grimaced. “You don’t know how else to treat her!? You can’t wait for her to shower, hug her, kiss her, hold her hand, take her out for burgers again, or just walk her home? You don’t know how to do that, right. All you know is how to fuck because you’re an irresistible guy, and the rest of us are losers for caring about people.”
“I never said that.”
“Well, you meant it, and it’s coming to bite you in the ass. Know why? Because now you don’t even know how to explain to yourself why you’re feeling like shit, and I can tell that you are because you haven’t had one comeback to all of this and you’ve dropped the snarky facade, which only happens once in a blue moon. Go up there and grovel, man, and tell her you actually like her...”
Not long after, right when he was in the middle of replaying the conversation with his friend, you walked out of the bathroom. You weren’t naked, as Taehyung expected. Instead, you wrapped the towel around you and walked out to get your clothes, which he had already collected and placed on the bed for you. It was the least he could do.
“Hey,” you said and grabbed the clothes, walking back into the bathroom to get dressed. You denied Taehyung the chance to see you naked again, which wasn’t something he was used to from you. Clearly, he fucked up, like Yoongi suggested. Everything about the exchange felt cold, which was crazy considering how close you were just earlier.
A while later, you walked out of the bathroom completely dressed, and Taehyung realized that most of your make up was gone. Earlier, you had eyeliner and mascara on, he was pretty certain. Now, it seemed like the liner was gone and there were some remnants of mascara, but nothing too noticeable. Why did you already remove it? Unless…
“What’s wrong?” Taehyung decided to be the first one to speak, realizing you two just had to have a conversation about your thing, whatever it was. It was either that or not speaking again—it was obvious from the way you seemed to be shying away from him. Not letting him watch you get dressed, not looking him in the eye, not talking… The signs were there. Taehyung was a lot of things, but he wasn’t stupid.
“I’m just tired,” you lied, eyes focused on the door as if you were just dying to get the hell out of there. Yet, you didn’t move from your place.
“Are you sure?” Taehyung gave you another chance to be honest with him. That was your deal, right? All you wanted was honesty.
“Yes,” you responded curtly, not even looking at him.
Taehyung didn’t know what to say to that. To him, it was very obvious you were upset and didn’t want anything to do with him. It was also obvious he wanted to talk it out, yet you didn’t want to give him a chance. He asked you, twice now, and you pretended everything was fine.
“Why are you back?” you asked, breaking the silence, and Taehyung left a sigh of relief. Finally, something.
“I shouldn’t have left in the first place.” That was honest, completely. He shouldn’t have gone out and left you here alone.
“Ok…” You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest and tonguing the inside of your cheek, looking like you’d rather be anywhere else.
“I hate this,” Taehyung grunted and sat down on the bed, shaking his head. He did hate it, all of it. That was exactly why he never got involved with people—it all got too complicated. “Can we just talk?”
“Hate what?” The spite in your voice didn’t go over Taehyung’s head. You clearly decided you weren’t going to help him out at all here, and he kind of had it coming. The night was going great until he got scared of Yoongi being fucking right.
“You looking at me like that, us being this weird…” Taehyung explained, hoping you’ll understand without him going into detail. “We’re always honest with each other, right? And you don’t seem honest now.”
“You mean honest like you were when you told me you just wanted to go home earlier?” You did it again, smacked him in the face with his words, made him feel like a fool for even bringing something up. “Because you’re still here. How was that honest, then?”
“Oh… I… I’m an idiot,” Taehyung nodded and looked at you, not even trying to come up with an excuse. He was a total jerk, yes, and he had to admit it to you if he wanted you to forget this ever happened. The room suddenly felt so small and stuffy, like it was suffocating him.
“Well, that’s a good start.” You sighed and looked away again, letting your eyes wander all over the room, but never looking directly at him. It made him feel small, Taehyung realized, you not even wanting to look him in the eye. Did he really fuck up that much? It wasn’t even that serious.
“I know, I fucked up. But I came back,” he pointed out, hoping that would get him some points at least. It was more than he would have done for anyone else, and that had to count for something.
“It doesn’t really undo anything, does it?” You spread your arms, getting visibly more frustrated with Taehyung by the second, and he wasn’t sure what to do about it. He wasn’t good at arguing with people, especially not when they were upset, maybe even hurt. That was the worst thing about it for him—seeing you almost in pain because of something so stupid and pointless he did.
“It doesn’t,” his voice almost failed him, so Taehyung swallowed the lump in his throat and decided to be as honest as he could. “All this Hoseok stuff really fucked with me.”
“Why?” You grimaced and finally decided to look at him, even if only for a second. “It’s between me and him and it’s stupid. I didn’t want you to get involved. In fact, I specifically asked you not to because it’s something I can handle. You picked a fight with him on your own.”
That was true, you were right. You never asked him to talk to Hoseok, threaten him, or stand up for you—that was all Taehyung’s doing. Why he did that was still a bit unclear to him, but he felt a need to. He couldn’t just let your ex whatever-he-was say those things about you and get away with them, it felt unfair. But, everything that happened after the fight Taehyung picked with the guy was on him. It was just because Hoseok found a way to get under his skin, and it had nothing to do with you.
He cleared his throat and spoke, “I know, but I didn’t want him to tell you these things because they’re not true and he’s just bitter.”
“You don’t have to look out for me. I know Hoseok and I know how to talk to him,” you spat the words at Taehyung, reminding him once again that you and Hoseok had a different type of connection, one that you could never have with a guy like Taehyung. It was his own fault. After all, Hoseok may have called you a slut in anger, but he’d never walk out on you like Taehyung had.
Since he didn’t say anything to that, you went on. “So Hoseok’s the reason you did that and then just left and made me feel like the dirtiest whore out there? Yeah, let’s blame Hoseok!”
“I…” What was he supposed to say? It was so much more complex than that. It wasn’t Hoseok and the things he said about you, it was all of it together—you two being close, you three fucking, Hoseok wanting you, Taehyung being unable to be a normal person, Yoongi telling him exactly that. It was all too much. Shit like that never happened to Taehyung, and you didn’t seem to understand that. None of it was like him, and it just confused him.
Taehyung quickly got up and took a step towards you, reaching out to grab hold of you. However, he quickly gave up on the idea and pulled his hands back because he realized it wasn’t what you wanted. The last thing you needed was him touching you after what he’d done. He fucked up, big time. “No. It’s all of this.” His voice came out a lot weaker than he intended it to, but he couldn’t help it. It was difficult to admit.
“What? The deal? You can’t do it?” you asked before chuckling, but it wasn’t a happy kind of chuckle. No, it was more of an I-hate-your-guts kind of chuckle, one that Taehyung was used to by now, just not from you. “If it’s that, just tell me. I won’t get hurt. I’ll get hurt if you treat me like shit, though.”
“No, no. It’s not that, I can do it. The deal works as it is,” Taehyung nodded as he spoke, hoping you’d understand that he really wasn’t tempted to fuck other women. Yeah, he could do it, but would it feel as gratifying as fucking you did? Probably not. So, why take the risk and lose a pretty good thing?
Yeah, that was exactly what you two had—a good fucking thing, even if a bit messy and fucked up and not what other people would go for. Did other people even matter? Taehyung sighed when he thought that mostly because he had let other people get inside of his head.
You scoffed and shook your head, your lips trembling—with anger or hurt, he couldn’t really tell. “Then what is it? I just don’t get you.” You looked at him like he was an asshole, and he deserved it. “Like… Why? Why all of this? You say you want it, then you don’t. You fight Hoseok, then you can’t do it.”
Taehyung gulped but couldn’t get himself to say a word. The truth was, he was having a hard time explaining it to himself, deciphering all the things he was feeling, all the things he said and heard, and putting them all into words that made some sense. He needed time to process it, he’d needed it for a while now, but it was easier to bury his head in the sand and hope for the best.
You, however, didn’t seem to have time to wait for him to make his mind up, and he couldn’t blame you—you have every right to be pissed off. “Ha, so much for being honest!”
“No, listen—” Taehyung sighed and realized it was now or never. Maybe you’d get it. “My friend has just been getting inside my head lately with all this talk about me having this deal with you because I never do this. And he’s been trying to convince me that I care about you, you know, like I want to be with you and I am jealous of Hoseok and all that, and it just got to me,” he spoke without pausing, watching your eyes widen as you listened, hearing his own voice falter, become weak. “He said I give you special treatment, that I don’t treat you like I treat everyone else, and that it’s obvious why. So I, being the asshole that I am, realized he was right and that I give you special treatment, so I treated you like everyone else.”
Then, Taehyung realized that your eyes were welling up with tears and that you decided to rub them before they fell in front of him. You were too proud to let him see you cry because of him, but that didn’t make him feel any better. Of course, he didn’t want to see you cry, but not because it would be uncomfortable—it was because Taehyung would know he was to blame for it, and that’s something that would have made him feel bad. No matter what kind of a guy he was, he really didn’t get off on making people cry, especially people who have always been nice to him like you have.
“It’s stupid, I know,” he went on, feeling the need to keep talking, unable to bear the silence and the sight of you almost crying because of something really idiotic and meaningless he did. “I really fucked up and I do feel bad about making you feel… Bad.”
“Taehyung, I don’t need or want you to care about me that way. You made it clear that you don’t and that you never will,” you said, your voice shaking. “But I do expect you to care for me as a person. Fuck buddies should be on friendly terms, right? I’m sure you wouldn’t treat a friend this way.”
He reached out to touch you, but you moved away, denying him the comfort of your touch. “Please, don’t, not now.”
“It won’t happen again,” Taehyung said, sighing. He was defeated, completely. You’d never moved away from him like that, never turned him down so easily, never spoke to him in that tone. “I promise.”
“I don’t know if I can believe that,” you said with a shrug, looking very hurt. “How can I be sure you won’t kick me out of your car the next time we fuck there? Or throw me out of your apartment when we’re done? God forbid your friend thinks you like me.”
Taehyung groaned at himself, sighing deeply before he said something he would regret. He just wanted to swear at himself and his stupidity for getting himself in this situation. Of course he fucking liked you—you two have been fucking for a while now, you got along well, and he had the best time when he was with you. What was so wrong about admitting that? Why did he even get upset over his friend insinuating that? “You know me, and I wouldn’t do that,” he tried to sound reassuring when he told you that, but the frown on your face told Taehyung you just didn’t buy it.
“Well, I thought you wouldn’t literally piss on me and then leave me naked in someone else’s bathroom, but I was fucking wrong, wasn’t I?” The tone of voice you used was enough to make him feel dumb. But, it was the way you looked at Taehyung that completely ruined him. Your eyes were narrowed into slits as you glared at him angrily, with disgust on your face, hurt written all over it.
At that moment, he felt like the worst person alive. He was a selfish, horny idiot. That was all there was to it. What you said sounded terrible because it really was terrible. There was no explanation that could make it sound acceptable, no way to make it seem better. Who the fuck did things like that, honestly? The alcohol Taehyung drank evaporated from his system in the meantime, leaving him sober and embarrassed by his earlier actions.
“I’m sorry,” Taehyung told you, unable to come up with anything that described what he was feeling any better. “It was a mistake. I just… I felt bad about seeing you like that.” That was the truth. It wasn’t his feelings, it wasn’t Hoseok or Yoongi—it was Taehyung and him doing this to you that made him walk away and pretend it never happened. He didn’t walk away because he regretted being with you, having the deal with you, or anything like that. He just couldn’t handle what he’d done.
His statement confused you. You frowned and asked, “Like what?”
“I mean, I shouldn’t have tried to treat you like I treat other girls I don’t even remember,” he explained with a sigh. That was it. Seeing you like that made him feel bad because you meant more than just stupid fun at the end of a night, more than a person he can try out a kink with and move on like he didn’t know them. You didn’t deserve to be with a guy like him, who’d do that to you. “It’s a shitty thing to do, even for me, but I hope you’ll be able to… Forgive this.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” you said and tried to walk past him, but Taehyung placed his hand in front of you, making you run into it and stopping you from leaving. His hand slid down your side and wrapped around your waist, pulling your side into his stomach, but you still stared right ahead, refusing to look to the side and face him. You were too proud to give him a chance, as you should have been. Taehyung knew he fucked up.
“Let’s not do this,” you muttered the words under your breath, jaw clenched, eyes watering. Even though you seemed to be pissed off with him, you weren’t trying to break free from his touch, and that gave Taehyung some hope.
“Please don’t leave yet,” Taehyung leaned in and rested his forehead against the side of your head, taking a deep breath. You smelled divine, as always. Familiar, even. He was used to you. “Let’s talk this out.”
“Taehyung,” you said with a sigh, still refusing to look at him. “I want to leave because I don’t know what else to tell you. I feel terrible, I really want to get home, take a long shower in my own bathroom so I stop feeling so fucking dirty and gross, and I want to forget this ever happened. I don’t know if I can trust you anymore.”
With a gentle squeeze to your side, Taehyung exhaled softly. “You can trust me.” His words sounded so cheap now, after everything he’d done to you.
“How do I know that? I feel scared of the next thing you’re going to try to convince yourself we’re just strangers who fuck,” you admitted, voice practically cracking by the end of the sentence, and your doubt upset him.
He wasn’t angry, just disappointed with himself. Because of the way he had acted, you no longer trusted him, and that was the one thing that was great about you two. Honesty, trust, having fun… It was possible because you could be real with each other, and Taehyung and his dick ruined that.
“I won’t,” was all he could tell you, but he meant it. He’d never do something as stupid as that again if you gave him a chance.
“Again, how do I know that?” you spat the words at him before grabbing his hand, prying it away from your body, and pushing it away from your waist in anger. Taehyung felt like you were about to really walk away for good and that he’d never get to even talk to you again, which was something he would hate to see happen. When would he ever meet someone that made him want to give this a go? He’d never met someone like that before you.
So, instead of completely ruining the whole thing, Taehyung wrapped both arms around you and pulled you in for a hug. Surprisingly, you didn’t struggle, but you definitely weren’t about to hug him back. Despite your initial protest, you relaxed in his arms and let him hug you, sighing deeply. Not knowing what else to do, Taehyung leaned in, resting his chin on your head. “Because I do fucking care for you, somehow. I don’t know what to do about it.”
It was a huge thing for someone like Taehyung to admit, especially since it was the first time he’d ever said something so personal to someone. It was like he’d just given you leverage, something you could use against him when you wanted to hurt him, and that wasn’t something Taehyung ever wanted.
The words were hard to even think of, let alone say, but they were honest and real, and that was what he promised you. He knew that was why he hated seeing you like that, hated thinking of you as someone he could use for sex—you’d stopped being just that a long time ago. People used him for sex, too, there was nothing bad in that if both people agree on it, but with you, things just didn’t work that way, not anymore.
Taehyung wasn’t sure what he was expecting you to say to his sudden confession, but it definitely wasn’t what you mumbled, “If this is how you treat people you care about, I don’t know what to tell you.”
“I don’t know how to do it, that’s the problem, and I get it,” he admitted through a whisper, feeling even more vulnerable than before. How do other people do it? How do they talk about these things, how are they okay with them? “What would make this better? Do you want to do the same to me?”
Taehyung felt you sigh before he heard you grunt, and then your body went all stiff in his arms. “Do you really think treating you like shit would make me feel better? Come on, Tae… Why would I want that?”
“We’d be even,” he suggested, even though it was a stupid think to even think.
You moved away from his touch, and he was scared you were going to walk out. But, you only took a step backwards and looked straight into his eyes. “Fuck, Taehyung, I don’t want to be even. We’re not kids, I don't think I need to hurt you back to feel better, and I won’t. I just want to know that I can trust you not to let me down like that anymore. It’s not about the golden shower, believe me. I want to try things with someone I can trust, which is why I said yes to you in the first place. But now, I feel like the trust is gone, and I don’t know what else to do.”
That made a lot of sense. Taehyung would have a hard time trusting you if you did something similar. And then, it would all stop. Realizing how you were feeling only made his stomach drop and his throat dried up at the idea of you never trusting him again.
So, he said the first thing he could come up with, something that sounded reasonable, something that would convince you to stay. “We don’t have to fuck until you trust me.”
“Okay, so you’ll wait for me to call you for months?” you countered with a cocked up eyebrow. Usually, when you’d give him that look, it was a sign of you being in the mood. That night, it was a sign of you thinking he was an idiot.
Taehyung gulped, feeling dread wash over him—not because he couldn’t hold on without sex for that long, but because he didn’t want to go on without talking to you or seeing you for months. Months sounded like a long time. “We can, uh, talk and hang out without having sex. Right?”
“Since when do you want that?” You crossed your arms over your chest, waiting for him to come up with something.
“I’ve just told you that I do,” Taehyung explained with a sigh, realizing he’d have to work harder on convincing you. “Like I’ve said, all this with Hoseok got me thinking.”
Your eyes widened and you nodded. “Is this about the beef you have with Hoseok and you wanting to prove you’re better?”
“No, it’s not that. I just realized that you could really just change your mind and start hooking up with Hoseok or anyone else for that matter, and the thought really bugged me. Not because it’s him, but because it’s you. I have fun with you, I do see you as a friend, and it would really suck if we stopped seeing each other.” There, he said it.
“Okay, listen… The next time you start thinking about stuff that worries you and has something to do with us, just let me fucking know,” you muttered the words out and gave him a knowing look. “I don’t expect you to care or change your behavior towards me. I’m fine with getting to fuck you when we’re both in the mood, but I’m not fine with you treating me like I’m someone you can just walk out on.”
“It will never happen again, I promise,” Taehyung crossed his heart with a couple of nods. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get in my head like that again, but I will let you know.”
You hummed and looked to the side, eyes wandering around while you thought about something. “Is it… Was it because I told you that you have a soft spot for me?”
Oh, you did say that, and it did make Taehyung feel like Yoongi was right. It felt like everyone could see it except him. When he’d heard you say it, it just convinced him that he was the only one who doesn’t know himself at all. “It was that and all the other things I’ve mentioned. It all happened within an hour and it’s a lot to process.”
“That’s exactly how I feel,” you admitted, gulping loudly, showing some kind of nervousness Taehyung wasn’t used to seeing from you. “Maybe we should go home.”
Home? Taehyung didn’t want to say goodbye for the night, not after everything. He needed to be around you for a while longer, just until he felt like everything was okay, like he hadn’t ruined everything. “Can I… Come with you?” he dared ask, knowing you could turn him down.
Without batting an eye, you did exactly that. “I’d rather if you don’t. Not now.”
“Are you sure?”
You scoffed and looked at him again, your expression softening a bit. “Yes. I want to be alone and think about everything.”
Taehyung’s heart sank to his stomach when he realized you were determined not to spend more time with him. It could have been just a temporary thing—you didn’t want to talk to him that night. But, Taehyung was scared. What if it turned into something permanent?
So, desperately, he suggested, “Can I walk you home?”
“I’m tired, I’ll get a cab.” Once again, you turned him down easily, showing him you really didn’t want to be around him, which was upsetting, and not in the angry type of way. No, Taehyung just felt his chest shrink down until it felt like he couldn’t take a breath.
But, he had to let you have your way. It was your right not to want to be around him, especially after the way he treated you. If he kept pushing and trying to force you to talk to him, Taehyung would just ruin everything, and he was already on thin ice with you.
Finally, he came up with something that sounded appropriate, something that would buy him a little more time with you. “Let’s share an Uber, at least.”
You said yes to that, even though unwillingly, and the wait for the Uber was really weird. You both stood out there in the cold, and Taehyung just really wanted to hug you, but it was out of the question. Your usual thing was kissing, groping, having your hands on each other when you were somewhere together. That night, you were standing feet apart, bodies not even brushing against one another, let alone touching. Taehyung could forget all about kissing and hugging. They were privileges he’d lost by being a fucking moron.
The last thing he wanted was for you to go home and think about what a piece of shit he was and decide to break things off with him. But, he couldn’t prevent that from happening. You had every right to decide you were over this thing with him, and Taehyung couldn’t do anything about it. Still, it didn’t feel like he made things right.
The drive to your place was quiet, but Taehyung used the opportunity to place his hand over yours. Surprisingly, you didn’t move it away, so that felt comforting. You may have been pissed off at him, but you at least appreciated him holding his hand over yours, and that was something. It wasn’t something he usually did, but he was desperate to keep you close then, dying to have you treat him the way you usually do.
When the driver pulled up at your place, Taehyung got out of the car with you, not even thinking about his decision twice. What was he supposed to do, drive off without getting to talk to you in private for a minute or two, without saying goodbye? He definitely wasn’t going to do it in a fucking Uber, not after the fuck up he’d made earlier.
You, on the other hand, weren’t so keen on the idea, judging by the glare you gave him when he stepped onto the sidewalk and stood right next to you. “Where are you going?”
“I want to walk you to your door,” he told you while you just stood there and glared at him, making him feel like an even bigger idiot than he already was.
“Taehyung… Please go back inside,” you hissed the words at him like you were angry, even though he thought you were on somewhat good terms again. Wasn’t that what your conversation back in the room was all about? “You can’t stay over.”
“I know…” Taehyung nodded, hoping you saw that wasn’t his goal, “I just want to… Hug you, at least.”
It was an embarrassing thing to admit, but it would definitely make him feel better. Well, it would at least make Taehyung feel like you didn’t hate him, and that was something.
The way you scoffed made his head snap up in your direction. “You want a hug? You, Kim Taehyung? Kim I’ve-never-had-a-feeling-in-my-life Taehyung? Please.” The tone told him you were done with him for the night.
“That was mean,” he pointed out, even if he couldn’t blame you for saying all those things. You had every right to be mean to him and not take his words seriously, especially not after he walked out on you in that position at someone else’s place. Besides, you were right—Taehyung wasn’t the type of guy who cared or asked for hugs, yet there he was, needing one from you.
“It was. You’re right. I’m sorry,” you whispered, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down. “I’m just mad now, and that’s why I think it’s best if you go home.”
“I think we should spend more time together and…” he gulped, “talk about it. I don’t want to go home knowing you’re mad at me.” It was the truth—Taehyung would hate going to bed knowing you’re in your bed thinking about how much you hate him or, even worse, crying over the way he treated you.
“You can’t fuck your way out of everything, Taehyung.”
Well, touché. You had a comeback for everything he said, which usually amused him. Tonight, it only served as a reminder of what kind of an asshole Taehyung was to you and how good he’d had it all that time when he was on your good side, when you treated him well, when you were gentle with him.
He admitted, “I’m starting to realize that.”
“Okay. Good.”
“Maybe I’ve misspoken. I meant, I don’t want to go home knowing you’re hurt because of me,” Taehyung began, hoping he’d manage to get the words out in a way that made sense. “When I walked out on you, I didn’t think that I wanted to humiliate or hurt you. I thought I should treat this girl like I treat every other one because I just don’t care and I don’t want people to get any ideas.”
You tried to fight the urge to roll your eyes at him, but you failed and did it with a snort. “Wow, every girl’s dream.”
“But it’s not true, clearly,” he added quickly. It wasn’t, it really wasn’t. Fucking Yoongi was right. He did care about you and wanted things to stay the same. At the same time, Hoseok was wrong.
“I kind of doubt that, Tae,” you told him softly, eyes sparkling in the dark.
This time, he couldn’t help but groan. “Why in the fuck would I be here? I got to fuck you. I got to play out a dumb fantasy. I could have just left like I said I would. I’d find someone else to fuck. I like us!”
“Who’s ‘us’, Taehyung? We don’t exist,” you pointed out slowly, your voice almost cracking again. You were right—you two as a thing didn’t really exist—but weren’t you friends with benefits? Wasn’t he the only guy who got to kiss you and touch you and fuck you whenever you both wanted it? That had to count for something. As if you noticed the disappointed look on his face despite not even looking at him, you sighed and quickly added, “Let’s call it a night, hm? It’s been too eventful for my liking, and I just really want to be alone.”
And then, you leaned in for a hug, which he gladly accepted. The hug you gave Taehyung was a weak attempt to try to make it seem that things were alright. You did it for him, to get him to go home and leave you alone, which he did. He let you out of his embrace when he felt you pushing away, and wished you a good night, hoping you’d ask him to stay. You promised to text him when you had time to think about the whole thing some more, but Taehyung felt that was just your way of letting him down gently.
So, he wallowed in self-pity for a while, hoping that you’d call him or that he’d forget about it. Since he didn’t want to compromise your deal, Taehyung couldn’t exactly go out and fuck someone, which meant he didn’t have that many options other than just try to forget. He didn’t talk about the whole thing with Yoongi, deciding not to let other people mess with his head anymore. He knew what he felt, and he was just waiting for your decision. Whatever happened was going to happen between you two, and the opinions of his friends or fucking Hoseok didn’t matter.
Despite feeling like crap, Taehyung went out the next week after his friends insisted he came. He’d been spending time on his own all week, and they were wondering if everything was okay. Since the last thing he wanted was to discuss anything related to you, which would definitely happen if Yoongi had a say in it, Taehyung just decided to go out with them and pretend he was feeling just fine.
He may have gone out, but he wasn’t really drinking—just a drink or two to stay awake and have enough patience to deal with drunk assholes. Were all drunk people usually that annoying or was it just because Taehyung was finally sober for a change? Whatever it was, it made him feel antsy. He avoided large crowds and stuck with the couple of people he knew who weren’t obnoxiously drunk—not just yet.
And then, he noticed you walking in with a couple of friends, tipsy and happy. Taehyung could tell by the way you were giggling and holding onto your friend’s arm, not even looking around the room to see who was there. Definitely drunk. The sound of your giggling filled his ears, and he wished he could just walk over to you and kiss you, maybe even grab your ass, ask you to come upstairs with him, like he’d done so many times before. But, even a hug would have been nice. He just needed a sign that it was all okay, that it would go back to normal, that he hasn’t ruined the whole thing by thinking with his stupid fucking dick.
Your eyes meet for a second or two, but definitely long enough for you to realize it was him you were looking at. You froze for an instant but quickly recovered and looked away, continuing to talk to your friends, making your way out of the room and into the next one, away from Taehyung’s questioning gaze. He had no right to follow you or walk up to you to see how you were doing. You asked him for time to think. If your idea of thinking about you two was going out and drinking with friends, he definitely wasn’t going to blame you. Taehyung just hoped you’d let him know what you’d decided and not just string him along.
An hour later, he started feeling restless, wondering where you were, who you were with, and whether you were even thinking about him. You were all he could think about, and it felt annoying, to say the least. Taehyung had another drink in the meantime, but it was nowhere near enough to stop thinking about you. Against his better judgment, he pretended to be looking for the bathroom and walked around the place, hoping to see you. But, he was praying he wasn’t going to run into you with someone else. For some reason, that thought would really upset him, Taehyung was aware.
Thankfully, you were with your friends, dancing and laughing, looking as gorgeous and carefree as ever. You were drunk, that much was clear, but not too drunk to be out of it. He watched you dance for a while, letting his eyes wander all over your body, the body he’d had so close so many times, the body he missed having under him. Taehyung shook himself out of his thoughts about you and everything he wanted to do to you and left the room.
Still, he couldn’t stop thinking about you, so he texted you a while later.
Taehyung: so pretty when you smile like that :)
After he pressed ‘send,’ Taehyung realized that sounded kind of creepy, but he couldn’t unsend it, so he just went with it. You’d already told him to fuck off, so this text couldn’t really ruin anything. He wasn’t expecting you to answer, especially not within ten minutes, but you did.
You: pretty? not a compliment i expected from you
Were you angry? Upset? Teasing? Taehyung couldn’t tell. He wished you’d told it to him in person so he could have seen your face and heard your tone. Since you hadn’t, Taehyung could only guess, so he went with teasing—it suited him the most out of all the possible options.
Taehyung: i mean, do i think you’re hot and do i want to fuck you stupid? yes. this just sounds nicer
Taehyung: and is just as true
He wasn’t sure if the texts were too much, but they were honest, and that was the most he could do—other than walking over to you and kissing you, which could probably end the whole thing. So, he stuck to texts. You didn’t respond that time, which made him realize he fucked it up. Maybe you were upset with him for not putting in any effort, for following your instructions to leave you alone, for even texting you a compliment. Maybe the other texts he sent just annoyed you even more. It was all possible, and the game wasn’t something Taehyung was used to playing, so it left him confused.
Despite feeling like crap, he didn’t have any more drinks. Instead, he hung around in the quieter rooms and tried to stay awake, even though the thought of just going home was attractive. Thankfully, Taehyung didn’t leave because he would have missed you when you came out to look for him. That was what you had to be doing when you walked inside the room and looked around until you looked straight into his eyes. His head snapped up in your direction, and you were next to him before he could blink.
“Let’s go upstairs,” you suggested, grabbing his hand. Nothing about it was gentle or sweet, but Taehyung let you hold his hand and lead the way.
You walked up the stairs and into a random bedroom without a word, locked the door behind you in complete silence, pushed Taehyung onto the bed, and took off your underwear, sliding it down your legs while staying covered with your dress. The whole scene was confusing him, but it was so hot at the same time—you, just taking what you want, which just so happened to be him.
The next second, you were straddling his thighs, fingers fumbling with his zipper. At that point, Taehyung stopped you by covering your hands with his and sighing. “Hey, hey… You good there?”
“Mhm,” you hummed, pouting at the zipper. “Just want to get these off.”
“Sure you can do this?” he asked, even though he was risking you getting up and walking away. “Not too drunk?”
“I’m not that drunk, Tae. Four drinks, maybe,” you explained as you finally pulled the zipper down. The next second, your hand was under the waistband of his boxers, palming to find his cock. You hissed when you did, finding it hard for you already. “I can do this. Can you?”
“Three drinks,” Taehyung told you, mesmerized by the way you were stroking him as if you were just trying to get him hard enough to fuck. He already was. “No longer angry with me?”
“Tae, let’s just… do this,” you suggested, a hint of annoyance in your voice. It made Taehyung realize he wasn’t there because you were trying to make up with him—if that even existed in a friends-with-benefits situation. No, you were just there to get off, and he was just familiar.
“If that’s what you want,” he responded with a shrug and lifted his hips off the bed so you could slide his jeans and boxers down his thighs, just enough to let his cock spring free, thick and hard for you.
Taehyung watched you stroke him slowly, eyes focused solely on his cock, hissing when you saw him leak precum for you. “No condom, right?” You finally looked up at his eyes as if you were trying to check if he’d lie. He hadn’t had sex with anyone else since you two argued, and he hoped this meant you hadn’t either. That would mean the deal was still on, even if things weren’t exactly peachy right then. There was hope, after all.
“No condom,” he confirmed, propping himself up on his elbows and getting a good look at you. “Once again, you’re sure about this?”
“Tae, I need to come,” you said firmly, nodding at him right after as if he was slow. “Do you want to come too?”
“Y-yeah,” he gulped, “I do.”
“Okay, then let’s just think about coming,” you suggested, moving your knees towards his hips until you were kneeling right above his crotch and guiding his dick towards your entrance. You started to ease yourself down onto his cockhead, but Taehyung’s grip around your waist stopped you in place, and you looked up at him. “What?”
“No prep?” Taehyung questioned, wondering if you were really as sober as you claimed. None of it was like you, yet you didn’t seem to be slurring your words. You just seemed out of it, and that was somehow worse, at least in his eyes.
Your huff gave off your annoyance with him. “I just want you to fuck me.”
“Just that?” Taehyung asked, hoping he’d hear a different answer.
“Isn’t that what you’re here for?” you retorted with a half-smirk. “Not like you to talk this much when someone’s offering a quick fuck.”
Your words stung a bit, Taehyung couldn’t lie, but he had to grit his teeth and move on. You had a bit to drink, you were still angry with him, and just needed release. At least you came to him and not some other guy, choosing to end your agreement.
“Then you’ll get fuck like you want,” he told you as he wrapped his arms around you and got up.
Quickly, he discarded his shoes, jeans, and boxers so he could give you what you clearly wanted. Just a quick fuck, nothing more, just someone to fuck you. He could be just that, if it was all you wanted. With that in mind, Taehyung walked around you, standing right behind you before he pushed his hips into your from behind, mouth attaching to your neck.
“Shit,” you muttered when his teeth grazed your skin, his arms sliding up your clothed body, giving your tits a squeeze before moving down to rest on your hips.
“On the bed, on your knees,” he ordered with a slap to your ass, so you listened instantly, getting in the position he asked of you, legs spread, ass up in the air.
It was not how Taehyung wanted to fuck you, but if you wanted him to just fuck you stupid, he could do that too. So, he grabbed the hem of your dress and pulled it over your hips, letting it pool around your ribs, which were pressed into the mattress. “Fucking needy tonight,” he told you, mesmerized by the wetness between your folds, a clear sign of your arousal.
He stroked his cock with one hand while he leaned in and spat on your hole, enjoying the way his saliva glistened on your folds. You hissed when he touched you, thumb spreading the spit all around your hole. The next second, he slid a finger in, fingering you for a couple of seconds before adding another. It didn’t take him long to finger you open and have you moaning for him.
Then, Taehyung pulled his fingers out, spat on his cock, and shoved it inside of you, grunting loudly as he did. Since you two hadn’t had sex in a while and he was so desperate to feel you, it felt better than he remembered, tighter, more welcoming. Your moans sounded even better now that he finally had you again, his hips starting to snap into yours, slowly at first.
With every groan of his name, he went harder, his stomach clenching with each thrust. It was all about you and getting you to come, and Taehyung wanted nothing more than to feel you come around him while you moaned his name. That’s what happened not long after. Instead of getting to come inside of you, you let Taehyung come inside of your throat before you swallowed and put on your underwear. Not long after, you were gone, leaving him to sit there and think how he managed to fuck things up that much.
After your little encounter at the party, you went radio silent on Taehyung again. Not a call, not a text, not a peep. He felt a bit cheap, even though he was used to fucking people and never really talking to them again. But, you weren’t just a person to him, and he was hoping he wasn’t that to you. A good fuck, and you were gone again, back to ignoring him.
Taehyung worried about that whenever he wasn’t keeping busy, so he did stuff all the time, even deciding to go to a school game just to avoid being alone. Of course, he ran into Hoseok there, and they both had more than a couple of drinks in them by that point. In Taehyung’s mind, Hoseok was the fucking cause of everything.
If he hadn’t meddled, none of it would have happened. Did he have to walk in on you two having sex? Taehyung was getting the feeling that the guy followed you around like a puppy. Hoseok spoke about you with such annoyance in his voice, even though he was the one who was dating someone else. That could only mean he still had some kind of feelings for you and that those feelings were hurt.
Is that why he chose to join that threesome? Taehyung couldn’t see how that would help Hoseok. Watching someone you care about getting fucked stupid by a guy you can’t stand wouldn’t be on his top ways of getting back together with someone, but what did he know? Taehyung definitely wasn’t a fuck-buddy expert. Still, he could never watch a guy fuck you, not after that time. It was off limits now, anyway.
After all that, did Hoseok really have to tell you those things, call you a slut for fucking them? He was the slut in the situation, and Taehyung didn’t mean it as an insult. Hoseok was dating someone else and decided to join you two. He had no business telling you those things or implying Taehyung or you were just good for sex. Hoseok was the one who fucked everything up, probably in the hopes of getting on your good side again, getting to fuck you the way you’ve only let Taehyung fuck you for weeks now.
So, when the guy threw a simple insult his way, Taehyung practically exploded. It was on their way out of the uni building. He couldn’t even remember what Hoseok said, but it involved you and him, and it was said sarcastically, in a way that implied you two were done. And that was something Taehyung couldn’t stand.
How the fuck would Hoseok know that if he wasn’t talking to you? Wasn’t that the goal all along? Were you two now in cahoots, fucking again, making fun of Taehyung behind his back for being an idiot and falling for you? It didn’t sound right, but Hoseok’s snicker told him otherwise.
That was why Taehyung ended up grabbing Hoseok by his shirt and slamming him against the wall, not even caring about all their friends being around, about random strangers being there. Fuck them and fuck anyone who’d stand up for the dude who was trying to rile him up.
“Shut the fuck up already!” he hissed at your ex-fuck buddy, who just laughed loudly and shook his head at Taehyung. “Don’t want to fucking hear you mention her again!”
“Pussy whipped!” Hoseok grunted and pushed Taehyung’s hands away. Soon enough, people started gathering around them, telling them to chill, so they both left, each in a different direction.
The encounter left a bitter taste in Taehyung’s mouth, mostly because he acted like a moron just because he heard your name being mentioned. What was even more embarrassing than his little emotional outburst was that you found out about it.
No word from you for a week, and then you texted the second he got into it with Hoseok, as if you were in constant contact with the jerk, as if you wanted to be with him. Did you? Maybe Taehyung was the one who got in between two people who had a thing and he was now paying for it.
You: this behavior is really childish and i HOPE it has nothing to do with us
Wow. It kind of hurt to see your text, especially since you’ve been silent for a long while. The only reason you stopped ignoring him was to tell him that, to stand up for your former (or maybe current) fuck-buddy? Great. Things were just peachy.
Taehyung: there’s no us, right!?
You: grow up!!
you can find the masterlist here and share your feedback with me here, if you want to. if you enjoy reading my stories, please consider supporting me using buymeacoffee. thank you! :)
boyfriend-jungkook things.
pairing: jeon jungkook x reader genre: fluff rating: g word count: - tags/warnings: a list compiled of all the fluffy things i’ve made up about jk and forced upon my bestie while she was out here visiting me (and more…)
a/n: for @btsroyalwilds, thanks for spending the last three weeks with me. i’m going to pretend i’m not sad about you leaving. can’t wait ‘til we can sing our lungs out at a bts concert together one day~
- he would have a folder on his phone named, ‘pics my baby took,’ & they would be candid pics you’ve taken of jungkook when he was either sleeping or not paying attention that you sent to him later
- make a highlights reel on ig just for you and it would have a ♥︎ for its title
- he would pull you by the strings of your hoodie to bring you to him just so he can kiss you or hug you (giggling while he was doing it)
Keep reading
bangtan search:tropes (a-m)
ksj // myg // jhs // knj // pjm // kth // jjk
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» inspired by a song
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find the (n-z) directory here…
[updated 16.06.22]
the hardest part [ZCL] (M) fic teaser
Description: You, Chenle, and Jay have been best friends since before you could even remember. After moving away to pursue your dreams, you don't talk to them as often as you should. One day, you get a call notifying you of Jay's passing. When you go back to your hometown, you find everything is different except for one person--Chenle.
Genre: Smut/Fluff/Angst (please see content warnings)
Content Warnings: death of a close friend, survivor's guilt, lots of what-if scenarios, navigating life without someone you've always had around, mental break downs, panic attacks (not vividly described AS panic attacks), two people coming together to heal from grief, explicit sexual content (unprotected sex, oral sex, mentions of sex, etc. although it's not super crazy so do with that what you will)
Release Date: 6.5.2024
Expected Word Count: 15-20k (maybe less?)
Teaser Word Count: 796
Taglist: Open!! Please let me know if you'd like to be added.
Permanent Taglist: @sunnybutcloudy @neozon3nha @waffleuvs
Pairing: Zhong Chenle x fem!reader (featuring OC by the name of Jay)
Juliet's Masterlist | Tell me what you think? :)
![The Hardest Part [ZCL] (M) Fic Teaser](https://64.media.tumblr.com/57d454ff40dcb5eb98a6f52356feab40/b60ba16920e5834b-18/s500x750/c0ca6c32798f674f36780dcdb12880e40ecfb8ce.png)
When nightfall comes, you and Chenle go to your separate rooms. He bids you goodnight, and you close your door. You sit on the edge of the bed and take in the room around you. Everything has changed immensely since the last time you were in your hometown. Your best friend bought a house, and you’d barely even thought or heard about it. Pride in him surges through you, but for a moment, you think it may be misplaced.
You don’t deserve to be proud of someone you’ve failed to talk to as often as you should have. Losing Jay has torn your world apart, and you still don’t truly believe it. You change into your tank top and shorts, and then grab your toothbrush and toothpaste from your bag.
You’re on your way to the bathroom when you find Chenle in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and bringing a glass of water up to his lips. He gives you a tired nod.
“You’re still up?”
“Sleep on a day like this?” He lets out a sarcastic laugh. “I’ll probably have some crazy ass dream or something.”
You forget your adventure to his bathroom and approach the kitchen island. Without a word between the two of you, he goes into the cupboard to get you a cup as well. He fills it with water and slides it across the countertop.
“Thanks,” you say.
He nods once and crosses his arms over his chest. “How’s life going, though? Current events aside.”
“Life is a constant revolving door of work,” you tell him. “Working my way up the corporate ladder and all that bullshit they spew.”
“You look good. As long as you’re getting all the things you wanted, I’m good, too.” He closes his eyes and tilts his head back.
“Kind of debating if it was worth it at this point.” You sigh. “I’m proud of you, by the way. Buying a house on your own is a big deal.”
“Family business money.”
“You work. You earned it.”
“I guess that’s true. Thanks.” He pauses. “I’m glad you’re here. I don’t think I’d be okay if you weren’t.”
“Like I’d ever leave you to deal with something like this alone.” You tap your fingers against the granite, admiring the swirls of color deep in the design.
“Regardless, I needed you.” Chenle gulps, glancing at his feet. “I still do. Now more than ever with Jay gone.”
“Did you think I wouldn’t come?” you ask.
He wets his lips and takes the bottom one between his teeth. “It’s not that I thought that, necessarily, but I did wonder if you were. I didn’t hear from you, so I kind of just hoped.”
Guilt takes another stab at your heart. “Chenle, I—”
“Don’t apologize again,” he replies sternly. “Life is life. There’s no way any of us could’ve predicted this, okay? Sometimes, shit happens. Not being around a lot isn’t the end of the world.”
“It was for Jay.”
“You were not the end of the world. You didn’t kill him, for fuck’s sake. There’s nothing any of us could’ve done. And reminiscing on it like this and placing unplaceable blame on ourselves is going to make things harder.” He sets his cup in the sink.
“I know. I know that, but for some reason, my head keeps—”
“Let’s watch a movie,” he offers. “Maybe it’ll distract you a little bit.”
You agree, and go into the bathroom to brush your teeth before you follow him into his room. It’s so innately Chenle in there, you immediately feel relaxed. Some things never change, and you’re glad he’s one of those things.
“Sorry, I don’t have a TV in the living room,” he says as he pulls his covers back.
“Just roll me off if I fall asleep,” you reply, climbing onto the untouched side.
Eventually, he’s next to you, and you rest your head on his chest while he finds something to watch. He selects some random comedy movie and then shuffles to put his arm around you.
His scent is familiar, too. The world calms around you when you’re with Chenle. One out of two of your safe places has left the Earth, but luckily for you, Chenle is more than ready to play both roles.
The movie does, indeed, successfully distract you from the impending doom of everything outside. You’re able to forget, even if it’s just for a couple hours, and sink into the familiarity of your best friend.
His chest rumbles when he laughs at the screen, and the feeling has you drifting faster than you’d care to admit.
Until finally, your eyes flutter shut and stay that way, and just like that, you have the best night of sleep you’ve had all week.
I need a fic of reader going to bruno mars concert with woozi 😳
SEVENTEEN Trade PC
Have: Hoshi attacca Op.3 pc 83
Want: DK, Dino, Jun, OR Woozi attacca any
room(hate) | L.JN (M) — PREVIEW
SYNOPSIS: All you needed was sleep after your long shifts at the hospital, but even that was considered a luxury in these trying times. A luxury blatantly stolen by your recently acquired roommate, Jeno Lee, who seemed to have an endless line of bodies to fuck, preventing you from getting at least an hour shut eye. It was annoying. It was disrupting and you seriously hoped to whatever higher being was out there that Jeno's dick falls off one day.
GENRE: roommate au, non-idol au, unrequited hate, roommates with benefits, fluff, comedy, crack treated seriously, pwp, smut (MDNI!)
WARNINGS: fem!reader, crude language and humor, sexually suggestive themes.
WORD COUNT: estimated 15K-20K (preview is 1.2K)
RELEASE DATE: February or early March
TAGLIST: send an ask if you want to be notified when the full fic is posted!
NOTE: uh this was sort of an excuse to write a specific Jeno in mind (see banner) the dark blue hair and undercut changed the trajectory of my life (REAL).
“Huh,” he breathed out, “didn’t know Jeno got bitches that often.”
“Mark.”
Mark immediately backtracked at the edge to your voice. “Uh, I mean—“ he cleared his throat, “fuck Jeno. I hope his dick, like, falls off.”
The beseeching shine in his eyes for your approval would have been something to laugh at if it weren’t for the anger taking full reign of the receptors responsible for regulating your emotions, not letting it process anything but the bottled up frustration from weeks of enduring the extra noises accompanying most of your nights.
So much for creating a harmonious home life with a Taurus man.
“You’re kinda more pissed off than usual.”
“Yeah? Hadn’t noticed,” you said dryly.
“Dude, c’mon. Y’know what I mean,” Mark giggled, reaching out to pinch your cheek. You swat his hand away with a whine when he tried to go for the other. “Sorry, sorry—just—I feel like he did more if you—“ he made a vague gesture to the air in front of you, “—are this upset.”
“I think keeping me up with horrendously loud sex takes the cake.”
“M’dunno. You lost your fuckin’ marbles when I ate your food that one time.” He shuddered, knowing fully well how touchy you were with the prepped meals you slaved for hours every Saturday.
Being this far into your career, cooking was almost like a chore since you barely had any down time to cook actual meals that required significant amounts of time and patience. You could even say that it was more appropriate to call it luxury almost as most of your time was dedicated to the hospital—to your patients whose lives were also in your hands, and pre-made food was the only solution to fit three-meals-a-day into your demanding schedule.
The long-lasting effects of when he, out of sheer desperation, snatched your jar of banana chia pudding still lingered when he always made it a point to ask if he could have one bite, or a quick sip after the rather traumatizing verbal lashing you’ve subjected him to.
You shook your head. “No. Jeno knows not to do that at least.”
It’s the one thing you had stressed right when you had Jeno settle in. Not that he minded, sans the obligatory head tilt when he didn’t quite get it until your further explanation; he even offered to help with the meal-prep which kind of—for a short moment—made you feel a little guilty thinking back to the conversation (puppy eyes, full lips jutted out into a thoughtful pout. More puppy eyes and Jeno’s weird, trademarked noises of confusion) until you were violently reminded of his fuckery.
Perhaps the whole golden retriever-like temperament and attentiveness balanced out his newly discovered predilection for whoring himself out.
Mark heaved a sigh as if he was the one with a 24/7 sex noise problem. “Then what could be worse than Jeno boning some random chick?”
You gave him a grim smile.
The thing was, it wasn’t always like this.
You were no stranger to peace as you did get a generous taste of it with Jeno thrown into the mix. A peaceful coexistence between a surgical nurse and some tech guy.
A routine had been built around having different work hours where you were mostly gone from morning to evening when you weren’t on-call, while Jeno was more often than not stationary since he had the choice to either work from home on his elaborate PC set-up, or in the office he’d drive to when needed.
It was relatively normal. Jeno was neat and kept to himself most of the time, did his set of chores listed on the mini whiteboard stuck to the fridge and generally acted what one would expect from a proper roommate who was here to make a home with you.
It had been normal. It had been peaceful, until it wasn’t and what made this whole thing exponentially worse was that the last girl Jeno had brought home wasn't just some random chick that had fallen victim to Jeno’s charms.
It was Jimin Yu, your work best friend and the only other person who knew of your sleeping problem that was caused by the root of said problem who might as well have been sent to you as a divine punishment of some kind. Which was kind of funny to think about knowing Mark, his faith and him technically being the catalyst of it all, but you digressed.
Jimin Yu. Another capable woman lost to some fucking loser (see: Jeno). Again. This was literally a slow burn epidemic happening in real life, and yet no one else seemed to be alarmed by it.
How you came to find out that it was your best friend getting her back blown out six ways to fucking Sunday right before a full day of two operations waiting for you to scrub and assist in was from pure, accidental intuition alone.
And anger.
Especially anger.
It was a rule you strictly followed: do not leave your room until you were sure the chosen girl from Jeno’s seemingly never-ending roster was gone. Saving both you and the poor girl from the embarrassment was the least you could do when you yourself would rather avoid any risks of running into anyone in someone else’s home right after a hook-up.
And, well, there was a reason why the saying ‘rules are meant to be broken’ was popularized, because you broke that one simple rule that kept your insanity intact.
Two hours left before your shift starts and you were more husk than person from the lack of sleep, all rationale completely consumed by anger that seemed to be the only thing that kept you going—and consequently what led you to shoot out of bed once the telltale sounds of Jeno’s door clicking open, followed by the hurried footsteps reached your ears.
“You motherfucker.”
This was the ultimate act of betrayal.
“It’s—It’s not what it looks like!” Was Jimin’s immediate defense right when the thunderous expression twisting your face grew more and more clear the closer you got to them with what were essentially stomps of your feet, but her words didn’t exactly help her case when:
There were obvious splashes of reds, blues and purples marking her slender neck.
Her hair was a downright mess, and you knew Jimin to harbor some sort of complex for her long luscious locks, so this was new—her not bothering to comb it out, obviously in a rush to leave.
There was a slight limp in her step which just said everything.
And lastly, the damning fact that you caught Jeno sneaking Jimin out of the fucking apartment, clearly expecting to not run into you.
“Ah-ah. No,” you interrupted before she could even start groveling. “I’ll deal with you later. Get out.”
Jimin’s shoulders sagged, big wet eyes staring into your very soul and it took you a Herculean amount of strength to keep your gaze ahead and not break under her stare; to keep your gaze set on Jeno who, unlike Jimin, appeared rather contrary to her obvious distress as he stood underneath the awning in only—goodness—only a pair of athletic shorts where you could definitely make out a hefty looking dick-print, completely at ease and infuriatingly handsome despite the disheveled state he was in; matching bruises smattering the milky skin of his neck and down his chest, scratches on his arms, shoulders and back and his hair an artful mess atop his head.
You wanted to scream.
TAGLIST: @jaylaxies @hoondrop @sliceofajayke @justalildumpling @dammit-jjk @learnthisfeeling @90s-belladonna
ඞ JOIN GAME?
PAIRING. streamer!anton + fem!reader
SYNOPSIS. not everyone is good at playing obby’s on roblox, and you’re no exception to this rule: after a particularly nasty encounter with another player on roblox’s altitorture, you log into twitter only to find out that the very same player who publicly dunked on your gaming skills turns out to be anton lee, a well-known streamer who also happens to be a friend of a friend. fed up with his fans bombarding your dms with teasing remarks or jealous musings, you decide to end it once and for all by appearing on his next stream with a promise to get through an obby successfully. however, you realize that the only thing you’ll be successful at is falling for anton lee instead.
GENRES. non-idol au, streamer!anton au, crack, strangers to friends to lovers, rivals to lovers(?)
WARNINGS. profanity, violent jokes, sexual jokes, y/n is horribly bad at games so that deserves a warning of its own, mentions of GOJO 🤢
STATUS. on-going
PLAYLIST. electronic lover by breathe electric; there is a light that never goes out by the smiths; she won't go away by faye webster; she's got you high by mumm-ra; accidentally in love by counting crows; 青のすみか by tatsuya kitani
MAIN MASTERLIST here
CHARACTER PROFILES
the better dsmp
robloxians
CHAPTERS
one. coolprettycutegirl
two. 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔦𝔰 𝔩𝔦𝔣𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥.
three. no lube, no protection
four. ganyu says…
five. facebook stalker
six. 𝕝𝕖𝕥’𝕤 𝕙𝕠𝕠𝕜 𝕦𝕡 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕘𝕖𝕥 🔥𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂🔥 ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓰𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓸𝓫𝓫𝔂😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔💔
seven. HATE the player not the game
eight. gobble gobble 💔
nine. LALALA
ten. 50k words slow burn streamer x weaboo romance slight angst happy ending
eleven. y/ntonchansoul server
twelve. 3 dollars and a crunchyroll subscription
thirteen. kaomojinese
fourteen. modern day michelangelo
fifteen. who else feel Baka rn 😭
sixteen. pixelated haiku
seventeen. my little skibidi toilet
eighteen. organ failure 💔
nineteen. satosugu but straight
twenty. #STONERLAND_SUCKS
twenty-one. elon musk plz ban anton’s mortal enemy
twenty-two. galvanized steel and eco-friendly wood veneers
twenty-three. sungchan boy kisser confirmed
twenty-four. choose ur poison (simp edition)
twenty-five. user gojoxdino’s last straw
. . . & more to come !
story by hangup119. do not steal.
☁︎ — CLOUD 9
dictionary — (uncountable) (idiomatic) often in the phrase on cloud nine: a state of bliss, elation or happiness.
summary !! after years of constant pining after his best friend’s sister, yn finally takes notice of sohee and sohee swears he’s on cloud 9. or in other words, loser sohee finally gets the girl.
pairing !! sohee x f!reader
genre !! fluff, humor, angst, smau
warnings !! swearing, suggestive jokes, dying jokes + sohee is referred to as a ‘loser’ like a lot 😭
updating schedule !! wednesdays AND fridays
TAGLIST IS CLOSED
જ⁀➴ PROFILES 1 | PROFILES 2
ᡣ𐭩 CHAPTER 1 — HAPPY MONDAY
ᡣ𐭩 CHAPTER 2 — SO NONCHALANT
ᡣ𐭩 CHAPTER 3 — STUDY BREAK
ᡣ𐭩 CHAPTER 4 — NO GAME
ᡣ𐭩 CHAPTER 5 — YN’S FUTURE BF
ᡣ𐭩 CHAPTER 6 — CHOCOLATE BAR ✎
ᡣ𐭩 CHAPTER 7 — ME OR HER.
ᡣ𐭩 CHAPTER 8 — MY SNICKERS
ᡣ𐭩 CHAPTER 9 — BEST MAN
ᡣ𐭩 CHAPTER 10 — BEANIES <333
ᡣ𐭩 CHAPTER 11 — CRAZY EYES
ᡣ𐭩 CHAPTER 12 — ANGEL
ᡣ𐭩 CHAPTER 13 — WELCOME YN
ᡣ𐭩 CHAPTER 14 — SOHEE’S BEST FRIEND ✎
ᡣ𐭩 CHAPTER 15 — TEXT ME BACK
ᡣ𐭩 CHAPTER 16 — I’M AN EMPATH
ᡣ𐭩 CHAPTER 17 — GASLIGHTING
ᡣ𐭩 CHAPTER 18 — PRETTY BOY
ᡣ𐭩 CHAPTER 19 — COFFEE SHOP ✎
ᡣ𐭩 CHAPTER 20 — FUCK SEUNGHAN
ᡣ𐭩 CHAPTER 21 — PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE ✎
ᡣ𐭩 CHAPTER 22 — YN + SOHEE = NO.
ᡣ𐭩 CHAPTER 23 — HOT TAMALES
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