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euphorajeon · 2 months

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trippin' over, gettin' lost on you | jjk (m)

— pairing: jk x f. reader

— genre: fluff, smut | college au, slight coffee shop au (?)

— word count: 12.4k

— warnings: pov change after the first part (its kinda obvious.. i hope), sleeveless jk, jealous jk, like really jealous, side character yoongi, cameo jimin and hoseok, they work tgt in a coffee shop, boxer!jk is back to his nature (he's boxing again, at last), cocky jk (but he's hot so its ok), usual banter between jk and oc, also banter between oc and jimin, mentions of cuts and bruises from boxing, references to the movie Real Steel, uhh what else i dont rmb anything else this thing is GIANT for me, smut in the form of: kissing, marking (hickeys), making out, an attempt at dirty talk, dry humping, cumming in pants, hint at unprotected penetrative sex at the end (don't do this!). [pls lmk if i missed smth]

— summary: a visit to the coffee shop you work at rewards jeongguk not only with a cup of coffee and a plate of brownie, but also with something else simmering deep in his veins. a challenge is issued, and all hell breaks loose.

— author's note: okay first of all full disclosure i started this in sept 2022 and just finished it today ^_^ i tried to edit it as best as i could, so if you see any mistakes, pls kindly... ignore... thank you... ^_^ that aside, i also feel the need to disclose that this is only my second time attempting to write smut so pls.. be kind.. hehe. okay! i hope you enjoy this absolute giant baby of mine!!

masterlist | boxer!gguk masterlist

There’s an advantage to knowing someone for years. Jeon Jeongguk can attest to this fact from first-hand experiences he’d had with you throughout the many years you both have known each other. He’s seen you cry after you almost drowned when you were ten and you’ve seen him throw up his breakfast after drinking skimmed milk when he was twelve, where both life-threatening experiences had been deemed not serious by young-you and young-Jeongguk who used both experiences as means to roast each other. (Though growing up, your hands automatically grabbed the whole milk carton when grocery shopping with him and he’s never let you go within a five-meter radius of a swimming pool without his supervision.)

Years of friendship with you has also given him the advantage of being familiar with your likes and dislikes, from trivial ones like how you don’t drink coffee because it upsets your stomach to more serious ones like the type of boys you would date in your teen years. He’s never had a problem with the former, instead using it as another mean to annoy you (“You can’t drink coffee? What are you? A child?”), but the latter had always bugged him for reasons unknown prior to his big epiphany a little over a year ago. (Spoiler alert: it was the first time he came home with piercings on his eyebrow and lower lip, when he tempted you into kissing him stupid.)

Now he’s confident that the type of a boy you’d date would be someone who is handsome, tall, has a great smile and tattooed bulging biceps on the side. Add a lip piercing (and a fake tongue one!) as well and he’s sure you’re never going to look at other boys ever again. If you do, well, he’d just make the piercing on his tongue a permanent one, even though that means he wouldn’t be able to kiss you for weeks after. But as said earlier, he’s confident that you only have eyes for him alone.

With that same confidence, Jeongguk struts through the glass door of the coffee shop you’re working at for the summer, going up to the counter with a grin painted on his features. Said grin goes unnoticed by you, though, as you’re busy taking the order of the person in front of him. His lips stay tilted upwards as he watches you work, writing the customer’s name on the cup with your big, round, cute handwriting. Only when you’re done taking the order and the customer’s cup has been given to your coworker do you notice his presence, eyes lighting up at the sight of him.

“Hi, what can I get you today?” you greet him in your customer-service voice and smile like you do any other customer that has come before him. Jeongguk gives you an amused smile, making you chuckle as you key in his order even before he says it himself. He eyes the small screen in front of him that displays his usual choice of beverage, making a sound to stop you from ringing him up.

“Actually,” he says when you hum in question, “could you add milk to that? Make it a latte?”

“You want a latte?” you emphasize the last word, making sure you didn’t hear him wrong. “Like, with milk and foam on top?”

“Uh-huh,” Jeongguk confirms, leaning his elbows on the counter to stare at you as you change his order from an americano to a latte. “Can I also order you on the side? Look too good not to be devoured,” he adds, a sleazy smirk on his lips.

You scrunch up your face at his innuendo, his words hard to believe when you’re wearing a murky brown apron and a matching cap on your head. “I’m adding a brownie,” you deadpan. “That would be seven dollars.”

“You don’t want anything?” Jeongguk asks as he straightens up, hand reaching for his wallet to take out his credit card. “No coffee though, babe.”

“Nope, I’m good,” you answer as you accept the card Jeongguk hands you, swiping it through the card reader. “Yoongi said I can try the new menu in large for free! I’m saving calories for that so no sugar allowed for now.”

His forehead creases upon hearing the new name. “Yoongi? Who’s Yoongi?”

“Him,” you tilt your head towards a mint-haired guy who’s busy making all the drinks, hands skillfully moving from one cup to another. It’s a wonder how he doesn’t spill even a drop of liquid. “I’ll introduce you later but now you have to move, there’s a line. Shoo.”

Jeongguk gives you a playful pout as a protest but complies with your request to move, sliding down to the pick up counter as you greet the next customer in line. There are two people lined up after him, barely a line like you made it sound like, but he figures because it’s an hour before closing that you consider any amount above one person a line. He also notices that you and the mint guy (Yoongi, was it?) are the only ones manning the counter, so it’s not like you have any spare time to deal with him given the amount of work that has to be done.

“An iced latte and brownie for Jeongguk!” Mint guy shouts as he slides the drink and dessert on the counter, lingering for a second when he sees Jeongguk’s hands reaching for his order. Mint guy’s gaze trails up his arms to his face, eyes meeting Jeongguk’s confused ones. Recognition bleeds into his cat-like eyes as his mouth forms into an O shape.

“Kiddo’s boyfriend?”

The low baritone of his voice is unexpected, though that’s not the only thing throwing Jeongguk for a loop. ‘Kiddo’? He has a nickname for you??

Mint guy—Yoongi!—doesn’t take his lack of response personally, instead opting to turn around and talk to you who have just finished taking orders from the customers. Jeongguk can’t hear what words you and Yoongi are throwing around, but from the way you glance at him, it looks like the mint-haired guy is just trying to confirm the answer to his two-worded question directed at Jeongguk earlier.

Your response to Yoongi’s inquiry makes the guy give you double pats on your cap-covered head, triggering a laugh to come out of both of you. While Yoongi’s laugh looks like he’s teasing you good-naturedly, yours looks like a shy one if the pink dusting your cheeks are any indication. It prompts a scowl to appear on Jeongguk’s handsome visage, furrowed brows and clenched jaw. It is not in your nature to get shy.

As much as he wants to stay rooted to the pick-up counter to keep you and Yoongi in his close watch, he has to move his ass somewhere less crowded to avoid getting eye-fucked by the girl next to him who has been staring at his tattoos for the past five minutes. Prior to dating you, anyone who displays interest in his tattoos would make pride swell in his chest, an ego-booster guaranteed to make his day a thousand times better. He used to subtly flex whenever he caught someone looking at his sleeve tattoos, an equally subtle wink on the side if that someone is a girl he found attractive. But after dating you, he realizes that the only attention he wants (and matters) is yours. Now anyone staring at his tattoos with the intention of flirting or getting in his pants just makes him shiver in disgust.

Though, in this particular instance, Jeongguk admits it’s his own fault by showing up to the coffee shop in a sleeveless shirt. It wasn’t intentional, he just grabbed anything within reach when he packed for the gym earlier in the day, but the way he left his hoodie in the car is definitely intentional. He thought he would give you a distraction surprise by baring his sleeve when you’re working, but you seemed unaffected even when he leaned on the counter to flex his muscles. Which is weird, considering you never missed any chance to ogle his inked bicep whenever he’s boxing.

As Jeongguk plops a small piece of brownie into his mouth, he just realizes that your roles are reversed now, with you doing your thing and him doing the staring. His eyes never leave your figure as you ring up three more customers since he sat down, transferring plastic cups onto Yoongi’s never-ending queue of orders. He watches as you take the last two cups by yourself, re-reading the order before moving to grab the ingredients needed for the drink. Your hands don’t work as fast as Yoongi’s, the muscle memory not yet settling in, but Jeongguk can tell that your help is appreciated by the way the mint guy smiles at you while patting your shoulder.

When the orders are all done, you go up to the glass door to flip the sign so it shows the Sorry, we’re closed! side. A glance at the clock tells him that it is thirty minutes until closing time, meaning thirty minutes until you can get out from behind the cashier and into his waiting arms. He hasn’t seen you all day today and all he wants to do is kiss you breathless the second you get rid of that horrendous apron and cap. Jeongguk starts counting down from the thirty-minute mark, hoping time would tick by faster.

Behind the counter, Yoongi is still busy making one more drink while refusing your offer to help. It’s weird seeing your kindness being offered to someone that isn’t him, but Jeongguk supposes this time it’s strictly work-related as he knows Yoongi has been making all the drinks (except the last two that you did) ever since he sat down with his order. Though, it seems like the drink in his hand is not an order at all, because he gives the plastic cup to you instead of putting it on the counter for a customer to take. There’s an almost childish grin on your face as you sip on the drink, eyes lighting up as you shoot Yoongi a thumbs up. After you exchange some more words with Yoongi, Jeongguk watches as you skip happily to his table with your drink in hand.

You place said drink next to his cup of latte on the table before your hand reaches for his drink to steal a sip. “I just have to clean up and wait for everyone to leave, then we’re good to go.” You steal two more sips of the latte just because you can.

“Okay, babe, but I still want my latte, you can put it down now,” Jeongguk chuckles, watching you do as he says with a guilty smile on your face. But then your hand takes the little spoon that came with the brownie to cut a sizable chunk from his half-eaten treat, quickly plopping it into your mouth. “Finish your brownie so I can take the plate away to wash it.”

“Are you just here to steal all of my food?” Jeongguk jokes, no menace behind his words as he reaches up to thumb away a stray piece of brownie from the corner of your lips. “And you said you didn’t want anything when I offered earlier.”

“I didn’t,” you confirm, “stealing from you is just too hard to resist.”

Jeongguk would’ve continued the banter if not for Yoongi calling your nickname from behind the counter, signalling for you to get back to your job.

“Boss calls,” you say, sneakily stuffing some more brownie into your mouth. “Should get back. Bye!”

“He’s your boss?” Jeongguk asks incredulously, glancing at the mint-haired guy who’s still busy moving around behind the counter. “That young guy is your boss??”

“Yeah, I’ll explain later,” you wave your hand dismissively, turning to leave. “Don’t steal my drink!”

In true Jeongguk fashion, of course he steals a sip from your drink. He does it just to be petty that you won’t explain anything about Yoongi, but he’s also curious what the new menu tastes like. He doesn’t remember seeing any banner for a new menu when he entered the shop earlier, so he’s guessing it hasn’t gone on sale yet.

He scrunches up his face the moment the drink touches his taste buds, tasting the bitterness of coffee among the layers of other flavors. It’s not as strong as the americano he usually has, but he can still feel it linger even after he swallowed the drink. Definitely not the type of drink you’d order on your own, though, so why were you so excited to try this new menu?

Looking around the shop, Jeongguk’s gaze falls on Yoongi. You did say he was your boss, didn’t you? Could it be that this free drink is just a plot to use you as a guinea pig for his experimental weird recipes, knowing that you can’t refuse your boss? Was that why he refused your help earlier? So he could make the drink taste as bizarre as it is right now?

His eyes continue following your and Yoongi’s figures behind the counter, squinting them in distaste whenever he sees you laughing at something the mint-haired guy said. Your smile, your lowered gaze, your shy demeanor, all remind him of a feeling he thought he had buried a long time ago—the same feeling he got whenever you got a boyfriend in your adolescent years. Suddenly, Jeongguk feels fifteen all over again—a clueless doe-eyed boy who donned t-shirts in every color of the rainbow every day of the week and strutted like he owned the school just so you can see that he was cool, only for you to deny him of a Sunday together.

Those years have become a core memory for him that it inspired him to get one of his tattoos: Rather be dead than cool, because he realized the way to your attention was not by being cool, it was by just being himself. (Yes, the ‘him’ who showed up unannounced at your doorstep after two years and ended the day with you on his lap stealing all the breath straight from his lungs.)

Anyways, all of that doesn’t matter because currently, your eyes are not on him but on your mint-haired boss who’s busy grinning while washing some equipment. Why are you both smiling so much around each other? Do you have some kind of inside joke that’s so funny you can’t stop laughing? What is so pleasing about Yoongi’s presence that you keep beaming at him?

Jeongguk chews the straw of your drink in anger, not realizing that he has inhaled almost half of the cup’s content despite claiming that he hates the taste. Sipping on your drink has become an afterthought as he was busy analyzing how wide your smiles are while working with Yoongi and how friendly the shoulder and head pats you give each other are. It’s sickening.

Eventually, everyone else in the coffee shop left and you’re in front of him once again to get rid of the brownie plate from his table, whining when you see the half-empty cup in Jeongguk’s hand even as you’re chewing the rest of his brownie in your mouth. Fair trade, he says as you walk away with the plate and spoon in hand.

Not even five minutes has passed since you left his table, yet Jeongguk feels tired of being patient, taking your and his coffee cups in each hand before coming up to the counter. It seems like Yoongi senses his presence, because he looks up from the calculator app on the tablet in front of him to give Jeongguk a curious glance. Their eyes meet for a split second before Jeongguk moves his gaze past Yoongi’s shoulder to you, who’s still busy wiping down the counter. A knowing smile curves on Yoongi’s lips.

“Hey, Kiddo,” Yoongi turns towards you, the nickname still irritating to Jeongguk’s ears. “I’ll finish closing up, you can go. Great work today.”

“No it’s okay, I can help you mop the floor after I’m finished with the counter.” You don’t even look up as you wave him off, oblivious to Jeongguk’s presence and his increasing impatience in front of your boss. He clears his throat comically loud, making you turn around to see a frown etched on your boyfriend’s face and Yoongi tilting his head towards him with a small, almost teasing smile on his face.

“Oh.” You pull your lips into a thin line. “Okay then. Sorry about him, Yoongi.”

“No worries, Kiddo.”

Yoongi’s nonchalant response is laced with a chuckle, which for some reason, upsets Jeongguk even more than the nickname he keeps calling you by. Is Yoongi not scared of him? Of his tattoos, of his muscles? Is he not intimidating? Can’t he feel the piercing stare Jeongguk keeps giving him ever since he walked into the coffee shop?

“You.” Your stern voice tears his hot gaze away from the mint-haired guy, whose focus is back on the calculator on his tablet to count the sales they made today. “I’ll clock out first then we can go. Please don’t do anything weird in the five minutes that I don’t have my eyes on you.”

Jeongguk follows your figure with his eyes until you disappear into the backroom, leaving him alone with Yoongi. Yoongi, the guy with the mint hair, whose surname he doesn’t even know, who is your boss that strangely have an endearing nickname for you. Things that stream steady questions into his head, about your initial meeting with Yoongi to the extent of your relationship with him. It’s the nickname he can’t seem to shake off of his mind, the way it rolls easily off Yoongi’s tongue, as if he’s been calling you that for years. Has he known you for years like Jeongguk has? Been through near-death experiences with you like Jeongguk has? Has he deserved the right to call you by a nickname like Jeongguk has?

“You can stop shooting daggers at my head, you know,” Yoongi’s low drawl almost makes Jeongguk think that he’s talking to himself, but the sentence is clearly directed at him. The older guy finally looks up from his tablet to look at Jeongguk in the eyes for longer than a second, no coffee orders to complete to interrupt their interaction this time. “Kiddo’s boyfriend, Jeongguk, right?”

As Jeongguk gives a nod to confirm Yoongi’s question, a hand is extended towards him to complete the introduction. “I’m Yoongi, Kiddo’s coworker-slash-boss.”

Jeongguk grips Yoongi’s hand with more strength than necessary, unintentionally flexing his muscles too. He thought that would be enough to tell Yoongi that Jeongguk is your boyfriend and he has no business being so friendly with you, but Yoongi only glances at his tattooed arm before letting go of his hand with a comment about how strong his grip is.

“Thanks, I do boxing,” Jeongguk mutters curtly, upset at the degree of nonchalance Yoongi is showing. He starts glancing at the door to the backroom where you currently are, wishing you would emerge right this second so he can go and doesn’t need to face Yoongi’s mint hair ever again.

“Yeah, Kiddo might have mentioned that a few times, just like she won’t shut up about your sleeve tattoos,” Yoongi says, going back to his tablet. “I used to box too, by the way.”

If you asked Jeongguk what Yoongi used to do, he wouldn’t be able to answer at all as he chooses to focus on the part where Yoongi said you won’t shut up about his sleeve tattoos and tune out the rest of his sentence. “My tattoos? What about them?”

“She said you have tons. Shoulder to fingertips. That’s how I recognized you when giving your order,” Yoongi answers lightly, which piqued Jeongguk’s interest even further. Wouldn’t it be fun to use this coworker-slash-boss of yours to get information about what you’ve been saying about him at work? What else does Yoongi know about him other than he does boxing and has a sleeve tattoo?

“Really? Does she gush about how hot they are to you, too?”

It’s not a question meant to be answered, its sole purpose to show off that you indeed gush to him about how hot his tattoos are. Though, if one thinks about it, why would Jeongguk need to boast to Yoongi about the compliments you give him about the strokes of ink on his arm? What business does Yoongi have knowing about it?

Yoongi seems to be unaware of Jeongguk’s inner dilemma as his face breaks out into a grin. “I think she’d be mad at me if I told you half the things she gushes to me about you.”

So you do gush about how hot his tattoos are to Yoongi. Interesting.

The fact that Yoongi insinuates there’s more to that is both endearing and terrifying to Jeongguk, because while he’s giddy that you talk about him with other people with so much enthusiasm, too much of it could end up in you sharing something about him that you should not have. Not to mention you’re sharing it with your boss, someone you should keep at an arm’s length when it comes to sharing about your significant others. One wrong move and he could use it against you.

Jeongguk is just about to ask Yoongi to elaborate further on his statement when you step out of the backroom, now out of the murky brown cap and apron and in a white t-shirt that looks like it belongs to Jeongguk. All thoughts of Yoongi knowing all sort of things about him evaporates right away, his mind focusing on how cute you look instead. If only Jeongguk doesn’t know basic human decency, he’d pull you by the waist to taste the mouth he’s been deprived of for the whole day, not giving an ounce of care about your boss watching the whole thing.

No, he’s a good boyfriend so he opts to pull you by the shoulders instead, letting your arms go around his waist before squeezing you in his arms. The kiss he drops on your cheek is chaste yet lingering, like he wants to let you know just how much he missed you. You tighten your arms around him in return, wordlessly saying the same thing back.

“Ready to go?” Jeongguk mumbles into your hair, not yet letting go of the hug.

“Ye—oh, wait!” You pull your face away from its initial position on Jeongguk’s chest. “You haven’t met Yoongi yet.”

“We did, Kiddo,” Yoongi waves you off. “You’re free to go. Your boyfriend here has been waiting long enough.”

“No,” you say, pulling away from Jeongguk’s hold. “I mean I haven’t introduced you two properly.” You gesture to the both of them back and forth as you say their names. “Yoongi, meet my boyfriend, Jeon Jeongguk. Jeongguk, meet my boss, Min Yoongi. His family owns this coffee shop.”

“That’s what you mean by proper?” Jeongguk says to you as he takes Yoongi’s hand for the second time that day, regular grip this time because you’re watching his every move like a hawk. “I didn’t know you own the shop. Nice place,” he nods to the older guy, releasing his hand.

“Thanks. It’s my dad’s, though. I just help from time to time,” Yoongi shrugs.

“You ‘just help from time to time’ but willing to dye your hair mint in honor of the new menu.” You nudge his elbow playfully. “Speaking of the new menu, did you finish the whole cup, Jeongguk? I’ve only had a few sips.” You frown as you bring the cup to your eye level, examining just how much of it is left. It’s an exaggeration, obviously, as the cup in your hand is still half-filled. But Jeongguk plays along, saying the reason why he inhaled your drink is because he’s tired from having just gone back from boxing.

“You have your own latte,” you point out, finally taking a much-deserved sip from your free drink. It still tastes okay, so you stop grilling Jeongguk about stealing your drink (even though you kinda stole his too, in the middle of your shift nonetheless.) “Oh, and did you know Yoongi also—”

Yoongi clears his throat loudly before you can finish your sentence. You look up from your drink, alarmed, afraid you might have said something wrong. Your eyes meet Yoongi’s and he gives you a tiny shake of his head, one Jeongguk doesn’t notice because he’s busy taking sips from his own cup of latte. (And because he’s more focused on you than Yoongi.)

“He knows, I told him I used to box too,” Yoongi says.

“You did? I didn’t catch it,” Jeongguk averts his eyes from you, turning to look at Yoongi. “Wanna have a match? I could use an opponent for my session tomorrow.”

“I said I used to, Kid,” Yoongi re-emphasizes on the two words. “I have a shoulder injury. It’s healing, but I still shouldn’t do too much to it.”

“Oh come on, I’ll go easy on you.”

“Jeongguk!” A slap lands on his bicep courtesy of you.

“What? He said it’s healing!”

It’s only now that Jeongguk witnesses the exchange between you and Yoongi using only your eyes, yours looking frantic while Yoongi’s looking as cool as a cucumber. Maybe he should dye his hair a shade of green resembling a cucumber rather than a mint.

After watching you and Yoongi have a silent conversation for a minute, Jeongguk lets out a sigh as he takes the final sip from his latte. “It’s okay, babe, I was just kidding. It’s fine if Yoongi doesn’t want to have a match with me.” He throws the empty cup into a trashcan nearby. “It just means that he backs down easily from a challenge.”

You physically face-palm at his sentence, missing the way Jeongguk throws a challenging smirk Yoongi’s way. The older doesn’t seem fazed at all, instead letting a small smirk take over his features as well. “That’s not a really nice thing to say to someone you’ve just met,” he drawls.

Jeongguk shrugs. “Just stating the truth.”

“Jeongguk, please stop,” you whine from behind your hands, still facepalming because you don’t want to become a witness in case this coffee shop becomes a crime scene.

“Alright, I’ll have a match with you,” Yoongi says finally, tone resolute. You peek out from the cocoon of your hands, glancing back and forth between your coworker-slash-boss and your boyfriend who are having a staring contest, both refusing to back down. “Tomorrow after my shift works? Kiddo here can take the same shift so she can watch us too.”

“Sure,” Jeongguk agrees without a pause. “It ends at three, right?”

“Yep.”

“Cool. See you then.”

Then Jeongguk puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you away from the counter to finally go take you home as it’s the reason he came here in the first place. You hastily give your coworker a wave goodbye over your shoulder, getting a wave back accompanied with a laugh. Jeongguk uses the opportunity to steal yet another sip from your drink.

“Stop it! You’re gonna finish it all!”

“What even is it? It tastes really weird.” Jeongguk scrunches up his face.

“It’s mint mochaccino, you ass.” You pull the cup away from him, who chases the straw with his mouth while grinning wide. “Stop or I won’t kiss you until tomorrow morning.”

“Always withdrawing kisses when I need them the most,” he pouts, retreating from your drink to let you finally finish the cup yourself. “Can I kiss you in the car or should I wait until we get home?”

(Does not matter what you answer is, because he grips the back of your neck in the car to make out with you for five minutes, and then finish what he started in the safety of his room, under the blankets.)

“Are you sure you want to fight with Yoongi later?”

You and Jeongguk are back in his car, on the way to the coffee shop for you to start your shift and for Jeongguk to get his americano to kick off the day. His nod to your question is firm.

“Yeah. My coach said it’s good to train with an opponent sometimes.”

“You could’ve fought with your coach instead, then,” you point out.

“True, but—” Jeongguk tilts his head, sucking in a breath. “He’s the one who trained me, so he knows my fighting style and pattern. It’s good indeed, but it’s missing that element of fun.” He drums his fingers against the steering wheel. “Besides, I want to know what your Yoongi is made of.” He casts a glance at you to see your reaction.

“What ‘my’ Yoongi, what are you talking about …” You heave a sigh, massaging your temple. It’s not even 9 AM yet but you can already feel a headache coming. Sometimes you wonder why you’re willing to date this childhood friend of yours, knowing all of his flaws and bad habits like this. Though it’s given you the advantage of being able to read between the lines of his actions, often you wish he’d just say things outright without you having to dig it out of him.

“You know, the Yoongi you work with? The Yoongi who gives you head pats? The Yoongi who has a nickname for you?” Jeongguk’s tone gets more annoying near the end of his sentence, almost as if he’s trying to get a certain reaction out of you.

“The Yoongi who owns the cafe I work at, which is the sole source of income I have?” you reply instead, refusing to give in to Jeongguk’s silent provocation. “Also, the Yoongi who used to box. I think you should keep that in mind when you fight him later.”

“Yeah, yeah. Bet he wasn’t even that good.”

You manage to arrive at the cafe unscathed, only losing a tiny piece of sanity because your boyfriend couldn’t keep his mouth shut about Yoongi and his non-existent boxing skills (Jeongguk’s words, not yours.) It doesn’t help that the Yoongi in question is already standing behind the register, greeting you with a smile and throwing a lopsided smirk your boyfriend’s way. You don’t like the thick tension between them at all so you quickly slip into the backroom to let Jeongguk be a big boy for once and order his own americano for the day.

Stepping out of the backroom in your mandatory work apron and cap, you’re kind of relieved when you see the shop is still intact, not thrown upside down courtesy of your boyfriend and his inability to control his strength (and emotion) in the face of a threat (read: Yoongi.) Upon seeing you, Jeongguk pushes himself off the counter he’s leaning against before reaching for your waist despite your boss standing just a few feet away. The cup of americano on the counter tells you that you took too long in the breakroom, which if anyone asks, you’d justify with adjusting your work attire. In reality, you just don’t want to face your boyfriend and the sour look he has whenever he so much as glances at your boss.

“You can always cancel the fight with Yoongi, you know,” you murmur, biting your bottom lip in worry. “You could hurt him, he could hurt you … it’s not ideal.”

“Hmm.” Jeongguk purses his lips. “What’s not ideal is your boss having a nickname for you.” There he goes again, always having something to say about Yoongi. “Aside from it being highly unprofessional, it’s also inappropriate since you have a boyfriend and that is me. Jeon Jeongguk. I am your boyfriend.”

“Jeongguk, he knows,” you groan, fed up with the back-and-forth about this whole Yoongi thing. You don’t even know why your boyfriend is so threatened by the older guy when he’s a whole lifetime ahead of him. “It’s not even a nickname. You’re just seeing what you want to see.”

Jeongguk’s reply never makes it out of his mouth as he’s interrupted by Yoongi clearing his throat, making you both look at him tapping on his wrist to signal the time. It’s a reminder that you’re here to work, not to continue the argument that sparked in the car. Your boyfriend rolls his eyes at your boss, sharing a hard stare with him before deciding to do something one should not do in front of their boss: dip down to kiss you, using your surprised gasp as a way to slide his tongue inside your mouth. In the five seconds he manages to tangle his tongue with yours, you completely missed the sound of the glass doors opening and the low whistle that came after, along with Yoongi’s chuckle and greeting to the person who just came in.

Shoving Jeongguk away by your hand on his chest, you try to cover your burning face with your other hand as an attempt to save your dignity in front of Yoongi, though you doubt it’s working at all. Jeongguk licks his lips then winks at you, squeezing your waist in his grip before stepping back to grab his cup of americano, now full of condensation sliding off the plastic cup. He takes a sip to taste test before scrunching up his nose.

“Could’ve been better,” he sneers, making you glare. “Alright, I’ll let you get to work. See you later, babe.” Then, after a second, turns to Yoongi to add: “you too.”

When Jeongguk disappears into his car, you put your head in your hands and let out the loudest groan known to man. “I’m sorry, Yoongi.”

The mint-haired guy only gives you a gummy laugh, eyes turning into crescents as he shakes his head. “Your boyfriend is really something, Kiddo,” he muses. “A really … fun early morning entertainment, you could say.”

“Entertaining it was!” You hear the voice first before you see the person, the one who must’ve come in when you were rather preoccupied with your boyfriend. Park Jimin, your other coworker, slides behind the counter in a brown apron identical to yours and Yoongi’s, just minus the cap. Good, that means he doesn’t have a bad hair day today and can take the position at the register instead of you. You could use some more time to learn to make the drinks, anyway.

“Didn’t know you and your boyfriend were such exhibitionists, Kim,” Jimin taunts you, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively. “Although, if my boyfriend were that hot, I would have wanted to exhibit him too…” He purses his lips in an exaggerated manner of faux thinking, obviously trying to rile you up. “Lucky you, Kim.”

“Shut up, Park,” you seethe through your teeth, slapping him with a dish rag while he cackles happily. “We’re not exhibitionists. You just have terrible timing.”

“Oh, it was perfect I’d say, just in time to catch sight of his tongue going into your mouth—”

“JIMIN!”

When Jimin continues making fun of you by making gross kissing sounds, you turn to Yoongi for help. As the oldest amongst you three, he must have a sound solution to get Jimin to stop making those awful sounds and put you out of your misery. Although, your trust in him is probably misplaced as Yoongi just chuckles and tells you something your own mom would tell you whenever you’re telling on Jeongguk: “Just ignore him, Kiddo.” The sacred word of ignore. “Go prepare the breakfast pastries now.”

So much for sound solution.

You go about your shift as usual, with Jimin manning the register like you planned to. Time goes by quickly when you’re busy working (and when your coworker is Park Jimin) that you didn’t realize it’s almost time for your shift to end. You glance at the line in front of Jimin and see that there are still three more people he needs to serve, while you and Yoongi still have about five tickets to finish before you can clock out and leave. Scratch that, might be eight tickets to go considering the workers who have their shift after you aren’t here yet. It’s gonna be a while before you can see your boyfriend and be a witness to an unnecessary fight between him and Yoongi.

“Hey, Kim, where’s your boyfriend? Didn’t you say he was gonna pick you up from work?” Jimin nudges your elbow when he finishes taking one customer’s order, sliding a plastic cup into the queue in front of you. “I want to see just how hot he really is,” he continues while wiggling his eyebrows.

Before you can slap the guy with your dish rag again—it’s looking more like your weapon rather than a cleaning tool at this point—Yoongi pipes up from his position in front of the sink. “Just look for someone with a tattoo sleeve. He loves brandishing it.”

“Ooh, a hot guy with tattoos,” Jimin whistles. “Add some piercings and I might steal him away from you.”

“Jimin, quit drooling over my boyfriend,” you sigh, taking the next cup in line as your coworker turns back to the register. He’s already starting to greet the next customer when you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine, sliding next to him to brew the espresso needed for the order you’re making. “He has one on his lip, but he’s mine. Note that, Park,” you whisper to him while he’s keying in an order, earning a light chuckle from the man.

“He’s just messing with you, Kiddo, don’t mind him,” Yoongi chuckles from beside you, eyeing Jimin whose focus is currently on the cup he’s scribbling a customer’s name on. “He has his eyes set on someone else already.”

“Gossiping, aren’t we?” Jimin turns to you and Yoongi with a sleazy smile. “Careful now, unless you want Hoseok to know about your hot boyfriend too, Kim.” He gestures to the glass doors, where Hoseok from the next shift just walked through. He’s a great guy, but you’ve only shared a couple shifts with him, so you think you haven’t got to the point of sharing about significant others.

With the mention of Hoseok, you and Yoongi move to finish the orders you have left before handing over the shift to the aforementioned man. When all your orders are done and you’re ready to head to the backroom, you turn to ask Jimin to go with you only to find him still rooted in front of the register. “Jimin, you’re not going?”

“Oh, I’m actually covering for Eunbi.” Jimin shrugs, sliding a cup into Hoseok’s line of orders. “Go, Kim. Have fun with your boyfriend,” he grins, sending you a teasing wink.

Hoseok, a clueless witness, looks at the both of you with a scandalous stare. “What, what, what did I miss? Why are you winking like that, Park Jimin?” he says, urging Jimin to elaborate while pouring drinks into a plastic cup.

“You should ask her, Hobi,” Jimin snickers into his hand as he turns to greet a customer. Hoseok turns to you, his expression hopeful that you will shed light on the reason behind Jimin’s wink.

“My boyfriend is about to fight with our boss and I don’t know how to talk him out of it,” you say through your teeth, giving an overly-sweet smile to a confused Hoseok. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to meet him and make sure he’s not gonna bite Yoongi’s head off.”

“Bye, Kim,” Jimin sing-songs, waving his hand to you. “Say hi to your boyfriend for me!”

You’re already walking away, turning to tell Jimin off when you bump into Yoongi who’s just came out of the backroom, void of his work apron and ready to go. He grabs your shoulders to turn you around, pushing you into the backroom to prevent anymore banter between you and Jimin. “Let it go, Kiddo.”

In the backroom, you catch a text from Jeongguk saying that he’s already in the coffee shop, ready to go when you are. You emerge from the room after clocking out, moving your feet to the dining area of the cafe while waving to Jimin and Hoseok behind the counter. Scanning the room, you search for a familiar mop of black hair that belongs to your boyfriend.

It’s easy to spot Yoongi’s mint hair amongst the sea of other natural-colored hairs. What’s not easy is believing your eyes when you see the person sitting in front of Yoongi waving wildly at you, grinning like a mad man. It’s your boyfriend, the person you’re supposed to see after work, the person you’re supposed to supervise when he fights your boss later, alright, that part you know. The part that you don’t know and have a hard time believing is:

Jeongguk’s hair is mint.

Not black, not brown, not the experimental half-half he tried in high school. Mint.

The exact same shade as Yoongi’s.

It feels like you’re on autopilot when your feet carry you to their table, jaw on the floor while your eyes are stuck on Jeongguk’s freshly-dyed strands.

“Hi, babe,” your boyfriend has the audacity to say, lips stretching impossibly wider. He reaches up to run his fingers through his mint hair, an act so deliberate even Yoongi sighs at the sight of it, but it makes your heart skip a bit nonetheless. “Do you like my new hair?”

The light green strands previously tangled with his fingers fall back to cover his forehead and frame his face perfectly, the light hue somehow blending well with Jeongguk’s skin tone. It also accentuates his jaw more, making it appear sharper when the grin on his lips morphs into a smirk once he notices that you can’t stop staring. Oh, that smirk. Usually hot with his previously black hair, it is now lethal with his mint hair, toeing the line of playful and dangerous at the same time.

You want to scream at the obvious and cheesy question.

Yoongi, the third person who’s been watching the entire interaction unfold before his eyes, clears his throat. “If you’re done eye-fucking your boyfriend, can we go now? I have somewhere else to be after this.”

“Yoongi!” you whisper-shout, half scandalized, half disbelieving that your boss can say something so crude in the middle of his own buzzing coffee shop. Maybe he’s been hanging out with Park Jimin too much. (Or maybe he’s just sick of you drooling over your boyfriend time and time again … yeah, maybe that.)

“Can’t wait to lose to me, Min?” Jeongguk snickers, taking your hand in his as he follows Yoongi—who pointedly ignores his taunting question—towards the glass door of the coffee shop.

You catch Jimin’s eyes as you’re stepping out, his eyes rounding in surprise before a sly smile takes over his features. Have fun! he mouths, giving you a wink. Ugh, you’re gonna face a lot more questions the next time you have a shift together with him.

After another futile attempt at talking Jeongguk out of fighting with Yoongi, you’re seated where you usually are, on the sidelines of Jeongguk’s gym, this time with heightened anxiety out of fear that your boyfriend and your boss could hurt each other. You’re worried less about the physical part—boxing is a very physical sport, after all—and more about the mental part.

Boys are full of pride, full of ego. They pride themselves on their ability to box, delivering punch after punch until their knuckles bruise. They pride themselves on their muscles, bulging biceps that took years to build and maintain. They pride themselves on their strength, how they are able to hold you up against the wall when you’re busy sucking air off each other’s lungs.

Oh, and in case it’s not clear, by boys you mean Jeongguk.

You have a lot of faith in your boyfriend, of course, but knowing Yoongi’s boxing skills, no matter how long ago it was, the outcome of the fight today could just be the one that would hurt Jeongguk’s pride. The possibility of it happening is so high that you’re already preparing yourself for when Jeongguk comes back to you with his ego bruised. God, you can only hope Yoongi won’t hit too hard.

You’re too busy thinking of the many possible outcomes of this fight that you don’t realize when Jeongguk is back from putting his gloves on and warming up, now standing in front of you. “Wish me luck?” he says, along with a toothy grin your way.

“Yeah, good luck, Ggukie,” you reply, lacking your usual sarcastic bite. Jeongguk seems to pay no mind to it, though, ducking down to peck your lips before turning around to face his opponent for the day.

You catch Yoongi’s eyes when Jeongguk has his back to you, quickly mouthing don’t hurt him! to your boss, which he only responds with a smirk. All the blood drains from your face. Looks like your worries about someone getting his ego bruised won’t be just worries after all.

When the fight has started (Jeongguk’s coach started it—you’re grateful he’s there because then you don’t have to worry too much about Jeongguk and Yoongi beating each other to a pulp), you can’t help but watch. You just realize, in the years you’ve known Jeongguk and watched him box, you’ve never actually seen him fight anyone else other than his coach. He’s said before that he only took boxing as a way to work out, not to actually fight, so you guess that makes sense.

You don’t watch boxing matches a lot (actually, you don’t watch them at all), your only knowledge of boxing you get from watching Real Steel, a movie about boxing matches for robots, set in the far future when human boxing is not interesting anymore due to the limited brutality. You’re not sure how much information you retained from the movie, and how accurate they are, but you’re pretty sure you don’t need much boxing knowledge to know that right now, Yoongi is playing defensive while Jeongguk is playing offensive.

Alright, you admit, you have no idea if the terms you’re using are right, but it’s the simplest ones you can use to describe the sight in front of you. Since the start of the fight, Jeongguk has been throwing punches continuously, while Yoongi has had his gloved hands covering his face the entire time. Okay, not the entire time, but he’s only thrown one punch compared to Jeongguk’s one hundred ones.

As the fight goes on, Yoongi starts throwing punches here and there while still dodging Jeongguk’s aggressive fists. You’ve never seen Yoongi move this much in the entire time you’ve known him, and it surprises you how agile he is. The way he ducks under Jeongguk’s arm and throws him off balance is admirable, sometimes a little bit funny (just a bit, you promise) because it shows just how calm he is compared to Jeongguk’s aggressive, almost-angry boxing style.

When Jeongguk’s coach declares a break, your boyfriend walks back to you with his brows furrowed, tearing off one of his gloves so he can remove his mouth guard and grab his water bottle. After chugging down half of its content, Jeongguk heaves a frustrated sigh.

“I can’t grasp his fighting style,” he grumbles to himself. His eyes are set on Yoongi, who’s on the other side of the room, drinking from his own water bottle. “Who the fuck ducks all the time while boxing?”

“Maybe it’s because you keep throwing angry punches at him, babe,” you say, initially to keep his frustration at bay, but instead it makes him raise his eyebrow at you in a duh way. You backtrack immediately. “Okay, okay. But it’s just your first time fighting him, isn’t it? Be patient, Jeongguk, and maybe let up your punches a little bit?”

“Baby, it’s boxing,” he says exasperatedly. “Someone has to throw some punches.”

“I know, but you just seem so … angry. Yoongi’s only ducking to dodge that. I’m saying maybe you can tone it down so he could stop dodging, so then you can see his fighting style better.” You’re saying this while gripping his biceps, hoping your words can go through his seemingly-clouded mind. “When you see his fighting style, won’t it be easier to figure out a way you can beat him? Isn’t that what you taunted him with at the cafe?”

You know it’s not even remotely possible to learn one’s boxing style just from a single fight, let alone “figure out a way to beat him”. Somewhere in his fogged mind, you believe Jeongguk stores this fact as well, he’s just currently too deep in frustration to place it in the front of his mind. You’re not even sure your suggestion to learn Yoongi’s fighting style is registered well in his head, considering your boyfriend is now back to eyeing your boss with fire in his gaze.

“Jeongguk?” You give his shoulder a firm grip as he puts his mouth guard back on. “Tone it down. Yoongi could just be waiting to punch back. You don’t want that.”

Jeongguk parts ways with you with an absent-minded nod and two pats to your head with his heavy gloved-hand. On the other side of the room, Yoongi looks ready to go back into his fighting stance. You sigh internally. Jeongguk is so going to punch him aggressively, again.

The next thirty minutes of the fight goes like a blur in front of your eyes. Jeongguk throws a hook that Yoongi dodges, Yoongi retaliates with a jab to Jeongguk’s side which makes you wince, rinse and repeat. Maybe you’re wrong about your boyfriend for once, you think, seeing his calmer fighting style now. With the way he left your conversation minutes prior, you really thought he was gonna continue raining punches on any part of Yoongi’s body he could reach. You’re relieved that that’s not the case.

Although, perhaps your relief came too soon because a boxing match isn’t over until it’s over.

Watching Jeongguk fight with Yoongi is like watching a cartoon character with an energy meter atop his head, except for Jeongguk, it measures his patience instead. As the minutes went on, you feel like you could see the patience meter above his head depleting until it’s all gone, and that’s the moment he went back to his initial fighting style: aggressive and angry. You almost pull your hair out in frustration because you just know that this is what Yoongi has been waiting for ever since the fight started.

The next thing that happens reminds you a lot of one fighting scene in Real Steel, where Atom was waiting for his opponent to run out of energy so he can fight back. In the movie, Atom knocked the other robot down with a final uppercut, gaining him a win and advancing him to the next round. Well, uh, in this case, just replace Atom with Yoongi and the other robot with Jeongguk.

Yoongi’s clean uppercut wiped your boyfriend out, who’s now lying on the ground clutching his face—which you’re sure is beginning to swell right now. Despite already knocking Jeongguk down, Yoongi is still in his fighting stance, never lowering his guard even as Jeongguk’s coach counts to ten. Your boyfriend remains immobile, though, and the second the count is up you’re running towards Jeongguk’s limp body.

“Gguk, are you okay? Baby, look at me,” you say hurriedly as you try to pry his arms away from his face. He doesn’t budge, and for a second, you’re scared that Yoongi has maimed your boyfriend for life. “At least let me know you’re alive,” you continue when his silence becomes concerning.

“Hmmph,” Jeongguk grunts. You heave a huge sigh of relief.

“Okay, good.” You run your fingers through his sweaty hair, trying to offer some comfort even though you know he had this coming. Gigantic ego, big talk, cocky as shit? Yeah, you understand that Yoongi would want to knock him down a few pegs. But now is not the time to launch into an ‘I told you so’ spiel, not when Jeongguk is still freshly bruised—both his body and his ego.

So instead, you lash out at your boss.

“I told you not to hurt him, Yoongi,” you snap-slash-whine, a frown on your lips. You thought, as the oldest among all of you, Yoongi could be trusted to knock some sense into Jeongguk’s mind without physically hurting him like this. As it turns out, all boys are the same.

The older guy just shrugs. “Probably wouldn’t get my point across if he weren’t knocked down.” He shakes the sweat out of his hair as he starts taking off his boxing gloves. When he sees you’re not impressed, he chuckles. “Relax, Kiddo, I didn’t even hit him that hard. He’ll be okay.”

“Really, Yoongi?” You roll your eyes. “You gave my boyfriend an uppercut just to prove a point!”

Yoongi just continues laughing as he chugs from his water bottle. His nonchalance about this is starting to piss you off. Maybe it’s your turn to put on the boxing gloves and sock him in the face, give him a taste of his own medicine. You scoff to yourself, picturing your own body lying next to Jeongguk if you really did that.

“Just tell your boyfriend here that there’s no need to be jealous of me, Kiddo,” Yoongi says, picking up his bag. Just then, Jeongguk’s coach appears with an ice pack in his hand, offering it to you so you can place it against Jeongguk’s swollen jaw. Despite your attempt to coax him out of his arm cocoon, he still refuses to move.

“Yoongi, look at him, you really broke him.” You’re flat-out whining now, kicking your feet like a child. It doesn’t even occur to your mind that you’re all still in the middle of a public boxing gym, with other people around you, being witness to this ridiculous scene.

“Oh my God,” Yoongi laughs before crouching down at Jeongguk’s legs. “Hey, Jeongguk, you hear that? Your girlfriend is worried about you,” he says, nudging Jeongguk’s leg lightly. “She only has eyes for you and your tattoos, too, you don’t need to be jealous at all.” You smack him on the shoulder for that.

Jeongguk finally removes his arms from his face at Yoongi’s words, his doe eyes menacing. “Go away,” he grits out at the older male, his scratchy voice making him sound less threatening than he intended. Despite that, Yoongi still holds his hands up in surrender.

“I’m going, I’m going,” Yoongi relents, standing up while adjusting the hold he has on his bag. “Was gonna go anyway, I have a date to get ready for,” he throws a grin your way. “Alright, I’ll be going first. Take care of your boyfriend, Kiddo.”

Yoongi retreats with a wave towards you both.

Jeongguk lets out a groan, shifting your attention away from your boss who’s already backing his car out of the parking lot. “Quit your job tomorrow,” he says. “I hate your boss.”

“Stop moving around!”

“It hurts!”

You’re both back at Jeongguk’s house now, with you sitting atop his outstretched legs on the bed, attempting to take care of his battle wounds courtesy of his fight with Yoongi. Aside from the swollen jaw, Jeongguk has a cut on his eyebrow and a split bottom lip. For a boxing match, you’d say these are minor injuries—proving Yoongi’s words right, he didn’t hit Jeongguk that hard—but your boyfriend is acting like a baby. He keeps jerking his head away every time the alcohol swab comes in contact with either of his cuts, it irritates you to no end.

“You have a goddamn full sleeve of tattoo and a lip piercing, quit acting like this hurts more,” you hiss, pressing the cotton in your hand to the cut on his lip as Jeongguk hiss back in response.

“At least when I got my tattoos and piercing, the artist didn’t do it while yapping my ear off,” he lisps through the cotton. “What happened to the caring girlfriend at the gym? Did she go away too, alongside Yoongi?”

“Oh, shut up, if I yapped back there Yoongi would’ve stomped on your ego more than he already did, do you want that, Jeongguk? Huh?” Your words are harsh, but you try hard for your hands to be the opposite, gentle as they cover the cut on his eyebrow with a band-aid. Jeongguk’s forehead is still damp from his quick shower earlier, beads of mint clinging to his skin. He might look smoking hot with his newly dyed hair, but the way the color rubs off on anything is starting to get onto your nerves. You wipe lightly at the color to make sure the band-aid sticks to his skin and does not come off the second he jumps around again.

“My ego is fine, you don’t need to protect it like this,” Jeongguk grumbles, adjusting the ice pack he’s holding to his jaw as you press a new cotton ball on his lip, discarding the one stained crimson red to his bedside table. “Maybe if you care about me as much as you care about my ego, everything would’ve been better.”

The way he’s rambling like he got his sense knocked out of his head as well makes you roll your eyes to the back of your head. “Don’t test me, Jeon. If I didn’t care about you I wouldn’t be here sitting on your thighs patching your minuscule injuries like they’re fucking wounds from a war.”

“Maybe,” Jeongguk half-agrees, a pout on his lips. “But you haven’t kissed me even once ever since the fight ended. Do I not deserve a kiss because I lost? Do you not want to kiss me ever again because I can’t beat Yoongi in boxing? Do you think Yoongi is way better than me now? Do you want him to be your boyfriend instead of me?”

With every nonsensical question, his pout deepens, and his eyes droop to stare blankly at nothing.

“Hah, ‘my ego is fine’ my ass,” you mumble, mostly to yourself as you turn the gears in your head on how to stop the bleeding on Jeongguk’s lip. It keeps gushing out blood, and you can’t exactly stick a band-aid to it like you did his eyebrow. At last, you just hold a cotton ball against it and hope it stops bleeding soon.

“Yoongi was right, you know,” you say clearly now, the tumble of Yoongi’s name out of your lips making Jeongguk glance up and focus his sight on your face. “You don’t need to be jealous of him at all. Heck, you don’t need to be jealous of anyone, Jeongguk. I’m your girlfriend and will always stay your girlfriend, no matter what. You don’t need to beat anyone in boxing or dye your hair the exact same shade as anyone for me to stay. You, Jeon Jeongguk, are enough.”

Jeongguk’s eyes, gazing into yours, are glassy with unshed tears. You don’t know if they are there because he’s touched by your words or are leftovers from crying over his bruised ego from the fight with Yoongi. Either way, it throws you off balance. Next thing you know, you’re being tugged down by the nape for a kiss.

Jeongguk’s lips are warm, like usual, but the tinge of metal you taste on your tongue is making you worry. Before you lose yourself in his kiss, you pull away to thumb at his lip lightly, seeing streaks of red on your skin. You’re about to continue pressing the cotton ball in your hand to his lips and stop all forms of kissing immediately, but your boyfriend has a mind of his own as he instead sucks your thumb into his mouth, wrapping his lips around the digit delicately as he holds eye contact with you.

Gone is the trace of any tears from his eyes, now replaced by something you can only identify as lust. As flattered as you are that Jeongguk finds you desirable in your current situation, it also makes you confused. He’s hurt and the only thing in his mind is getting his dick wet? Unbelievable.

The ice-cold feeling on your waist tears your attention away from Jeongguk’s dark eyes as you yelp, hand instinctively prying the cold thing away. The ‘thing’ turns out to be his hand, which was previously holding the ice pack to his swollen jaw. He’s sneaked his fucking cold hand under your shirt to hold your waist when he should’ve kept holding the ice pack to his jaw—his swollen jaw!

Your boyfriend has a swollen jaw, a busted lip and a cut eyebrow. This is not the time to be screwing around.

Pulling away your thumb out of Jeongguk’s mouth at the speed of light, you attempt to climb off his lap, but he’s read your mind even before they are conjured up in your own brain. His hands are back on your waist—yes, the cold one too—and they hold you firm in place. The side of Jeongguk’s lips turn up into a sickeningly sweet smile, before he tugs your body towards his, making your hips come in contact with his crotch. He’s hard. Oh, fuck.

“You know, I never really understood why you’re so bratty whenever you’re horny and I can’t tend to you right away, but I think I get it now,” he says right by your ear, making a shiver run down your spine. “I’ve been trying to will away my boner ever since you sat on my lap, but your weight on it is so damn distracting, it’s hard.”

“So,” he punctuates the word with a kiss on your neck, “I started saying anything to get my mind off it, but the way you care for me just … turns me on even more, if that was even possible.” He noses his way down your throat, coming to a stop at your collarbone. “And then all that talk about how I am enough … holy shit, I lost it. All I could think about was how I want to kiss you and fuck you into next week on this very bed.”

You can barely hear the last few words Jeongguk is saying, because he’s mumbling them into your skin as he peppers kisses and nips there. His fingers are now pressing into your back, pulling you closer and closer to him until there is no space left between you. You crane your neck so he can have more room to splash reds and purples onto your skin, sighing to the top of his mint head.

“You know, for someone claiming to be horny, you’re doing a terrible job at dirty talk,” you jab at your boyfriend, earning you a bite on your neck and a tightened grip on your body, making you close your eyes with stuttered breath.

“Easy, babe,” Jeongguk chuckles. “You talk as if you won’t be a moaning mess by the end of this,” he continues with much confidence. “But also, my lip is still kinda bleeding and my sides are still throbbing from the bruises. Kinda debating should we continue or just go to sleep.”

“Jeon Jeongguk I swear to God if you leave me high and dry—”

“Maybe you should kiss them better,” he cuts you off with a suggestion, his lips still trailing butterfly kisses on your neck and collarbone. The hands still on your back sneakily climb up and up until they’re reaching for the clasp of your bra, easily opening it to free your breasts from its confines. Your sound of protest gets stuck in your throat as a strangled moan comes out instead when Jeongguk massages your breasts tenderly with his fingers.

“Maybe I would—fuck—if you get rid of your shirt,” you say, tugging on the offending piece of fabric still covering your boyfriend’s gorgeous body. It’s not fair that he’s got you half naked already and he’s still fully clothed.

Jeongguk parts himself from your body long enough to tug his t-shirt off from the back of his neck in one smooth motion, exposing the golden expanse of his skin to your hungry eyes. If you thought his mint hair was smoking hot with his shirt on, it’s literally burning a flame of desire deep in your belly with his shirt off. You’re tongue-tied as you marvel at the sight in front of you, you almost jump when your own shirt and bra are taken off your body.

Now both bare from the waist up, Jeongguk wastes no time leaning back in for a kiss on the mouth, this time open-mouthed so he can slide his tongue inside. You keen happily, slipping a sigh in between as he slowly lowers you to the bed. Jeongguk anchors his hands on your hips, teasing at the waistband of your sweatpants as he keeps your mouth busy with his own. In contrast, your hands are everywhere, from his broad shoulder to his firm back, from his bulging biceps to his rock-hard abs. You even tease your fingers past his waistband, grabbing onto his ass and squeezing, making him groan hotly into your mouth. It’s only when your fingers brush against his sides that he winces, reminding you of his earlier request.

“Flip around,” you whisper against his lips, “so I can kiss your bruises better.”

“Hmm?” Jeongguk hums, your words a murmur in his head. “But I like having you like this. Under me, naked, panting, wet,” he says, slipping his hand beyond your sweatpants to prove his words right—you’ve soaked through your panties. He drags a finger slowly up your center. You shudder.

“Yeah? I can be naked, panting, and wet on top of you as well.”

“Ooh, tempting.” Jeongguk licks his lips. He flicks your clit with a cheeky smile dancing on his lips, before settling his hands back on your waist. “Alright, I’ll flip over.”

The next second, you’re staring at him from up top, admiring how his mint hair looks against his dark grey bed sheets. Although, his hair is the least of your concern right now, as you’re tugged back down for another bruising kiss. Now that you’re on top, Jeongguk takes the opportunity to return the favor that is slipping his hand into your pants to squeeze your ass, but his version involves pulling your hips down while his thrusts up, creating a delicious friction between your body that makes you exhale a moan into his mouth.

You move away from his lips, down to his jaw where you take care to land a kiss light as a feather, before moving to his neck and collarbone where you have your own share of bites and licks. Aside from your infatuation with his tattoos and biceps, you actually have another one with his collarbone, this one you keep secret from him lest he goes around the house shirtless more often just to brandish his clavicle. But maybe he’s already noticed from the way you always make sure to cover that body part of his in blooms of red and purple, taking care to trace each and every bite mark slowly with the tip of your tongue.

While you’re busy with his collarbone, Jeongguk keeps dragging your crotch steadily over his, like he can’t get enough of the feeling and wants to keep chasing it. The delicious pressure on your center is a bit distracting, so you smooth your palm across his chest to pinch at his nipple in warning. Jeongguk lets out a broken whine from his throat.

“Stop humping into me, do you want to cream your pants?” you chide, fingers still giving tiny pinches to his nipple to keep him on his toes.

“Was trying to get you to cream your pants,” Jeongguk grins guiltily, his hips snapping up yet again to collide with yours. Even if you roll your eyes at his antics, you still continue your journey of kissing down his body, making sure to suck and lick on his sensitive nipples. You love the moans and groans that slip out of his throat every time you do things to his nipples. He likes it so much that his hips keep chanting up, searching for friction, that you have to pin them down so you can slide down to pepper kisses on his abs and waist.

Jeongguk works really hard to maintain the body he has, clearly evident in the eight pack he’s sporting on his stomach and the tiny, minuscule waist that’s way too slutty for a man to have. Sometimes you’re jealous of how nice his body looks, how firm it is to touch. You told him this one time, along with your regret that you couldn’t give him a similar experience, but he’d only laughed and said that admiring and appreciating him was enough, before proceeding to show you how he admires and appreciates your soft body (he kept biting into your inner thigh as he was eating you out, coaxing you into four orgasms back to back that day.)

And so, you admire his body by kissing the taut muscle one by one, tracing the lines outlining them with your hot tongue, caressing his bruised waist with the pillow of your lips and the feather of your touch. You know he’s hurt, but you can’t hold yourself from nipping on his slutty waist, gifting him another bruise that’s not a result of a punch. From the choked sob that rips out of his throat and the jump of his dick somewhere on your stomach, you take it he likes the bite.

“So,” you say as you mouth at the seam of his waistband, hand massaging his hard cock through his pants. “Do you want to cum in your pants, in my hand, in my mouth, or—?”

“Fuck, in you, please,” Jeongguk begs, eyes glassy from your ministrations. “But can we go back to dry humping for a while? Kinda like the friction on my sweatpants,” he breathes.

“Like this?” You move your hand up and down his cock, dragging the material of his sweatpants with it, paying special attention to the head. With every rub of the sweatpants against his head, a bead of precum comes out, with Jeongguk throwing his head back in silent pleasure. “Yeah, fuuck, that feels good.”

“But babe, want you, on top,” he demands, making grabby hands at you. “Was serious when I said I wanted you to cum first,” he continues, sighs in content when you oblige, resuming your position on top of him and lining your clothed crotch with his. He starts dragging your hips against his, building the pleasure up the faster he goes. “Want to fuck your swollen pussy, dripping with cum. Oh, I’ll slide right in, no problem, so wet, warm … fuuuck.”

The grip Jeongguk has on your hips is bruising, you have no choice but to let your body be manhandled by him. Slowly but surely, the band inside your stomach begins to tighten as your hold on his shoulders does as well. You’re so close, just one more move to tip you over the edge. When Jeongguk sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, the band inside you snaps and you come with a jerk of your hips and a whine from your throat.

Jeongguk slows down his move, taking care not to cum before being inside you, before stopping altogether and wrapping his arms around you to bring the both of you into a sitting position. Your limbs feel like jelly, still trying to come down from your high, when Jeongguk pecks your cheek before carefully lying you back down on the bed with your face down. He then maneuvers himself behind you, lifting your hips off the bed. You’re starting to have an idea what position he wants you in when he spreads your knees and slowly peels back your pants and panties to reveal your bare ass and pussy.

He takes his time caressing the globe of your ass, inching his fingers towards your pussy lips before spreading them apart, tearing a low whine from your chest. You guess he’s admiring the way cum still drips out of your cunt, because he’s silent, immobile for almost a minute.

“Gguk…” you whisper out. “You gonna fuck me or not?”

Jeongguk scrambles to get his pants off. “Fuck, yes, of course, baby, you just look so beautiful like this, I want to stare all day long,” he breathes, lining up his dick with your entrance.

God, I’m so thankful you’re mine, is his last warning before he slides home in one thrust.

Later, when you’re both freshly showered and cuddling on Jeongguk’s bed—with blue bed sheets this time, because you forced him to change the sheets as the grey ones smelled gross after your activities—you ask him a question.

“Are you still jealous of Yoongi?”

There’s a three second pause before Jeongguk’s answer comes. “Maybe a tiny bit,” he says, nearly connecting his thumb and forefinger together in a ‘tiny’ motion. “Of his boxing skills only. Amazing how he could still move like that with an injured shoulder. I want to be like that too.”

“You want to injure your shoulder?”

He gives you a flat look. You giggle.

“His shoulder is actually healed, you know, so he’s still actively boxing until now. He trains the boxing club at my campus whenever our coach can't, that’s where I know him from and how I’d gotten the job at his cafe.”

Jeongguk purses his lips. “So he lied to me.”

“Hmm,” you agree. “I figured it was to ‘teach you a lesson’, that’s why I asked him not to hurt you before your fight. Did you, though? Learn your lesson?”

“What? To not be jealous of him?”

You pinch his waist. “To knock your ego down a peg and stop feeling insecure whenever I interact with other men?”

“Baby, the guy had a nickname for you. My insecurities were valid!”

“You mean the ‘Kiddo’ one?” you ask. Jeongguk nods. “He calls Jimin Kiddo. He calls Eunbi Kiddo. He calls you Kiddo. He calls everyone younger than him, Kiddo.”

More silence ensues.

“So … my jealousy was for nothing?”

“Yes! What I’ve been saying!”

Jeongguk giggles. Then he kisses you. Then he giggles again, while still kissing you.

“How about an apology?” he offers.

“In what form?” you challenge.

“Round three?”

“No.”

Well, at least he’s not jealous anymore.

a/n: thank you for reading!! please let me know what you think of this, i literally almost cried in the process of writing it and when i finally finished it :') and yes this started because of that one mint jeongguk in memories 2020/2021, i think? the one with him in a black sleeveless and a pair of sunglasses, hahah. wish he'd dye his hair mint again (he looks rly good in it ugh)

→ request is open for my 1k folls celebration!

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radmista · 1 year

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Feeling so fatigued and achey and tired that ive been in bed most afternoon. my adhd brain however is clawing at my skull for stimulation bc laying in bed isn't exciting enough. but the startup energy cost to do anything is too much. Even tried watching a show but it wasn't what my brain wanted

#im like maybe I could crochet #but then I start thinking of all the microtasks I have to do to even get started on a small simple project and its too overwhelming #not to sound depressed brain or lazy brain but even the whole process of getting up to turn on the light is too much atm #I'll need smth i cannot feasibly not do to make me get up and then catch the momentum from there. but its now also late so why bother ????#but i have to take the dog out to pee #she's been such a good girl cuddling with me and not demanding we do anything. its like she knows im not feeling great #so contemplating if when I have to get up to let her out and feed her if i should start crocheting bc I'll have the energy to #or if i should call it quits for the night and just go to sleep despite not doing anything today #this is a sucky ass feeling and then I end up feeling more guilty about not being able to do anything :/#my gf could have come over but I was an idiot and kept falling asleep. but i also dk if I would have had the energy for her.#and lowkey dont want people seeing me be so unable to get up. i don't even like feel sad or anything. just unable to do anything

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tim-shii · 1 month

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a/n: my beau, the love of my life 🫂 little smth before i go to war (finals is in two days) ,, AAAAAA i love aven so much hes so precious hes so dear to me MY BELOVED !! hes canonically a messy sleeper 😋 hes so silly bf oml

aventurine looks so ethereal right now. well, he’s always been beautiful. but in this light? with how the beams from the sun highlights his features, aventurine looks gorgeous.

he’s sleeping soundly, too. pajama shirt nearly unbuttoned because of how much he twist and turn in his sleep. blonde locks messily sprawled over the pillow and his forehead. he’s so endearing. it takes everything in you just to not wake him with a shower of aggressive kisses all over his pretty face.

usually, you’ll let him sleep in. however, today’s itinerary is quite full and busy so a few more minutes of sleep will indeed hurt.

“wake up, sleeping beauty.” you sit on the edge of the bed hovering over him, your pointer finger repeatedly poking his cheek. when he doesn’t move an inch, you gently blow air in his ear. grinning widely once he shudders. slowly after that, aventurine flutters open his eyes. squinting at the morning light, blindly patting around for your hand.

“g’morning.” he murmurs, arms snaking around your waist, pulling you close. aventurine nuzzles in your neck, his lips leaving short kisses on your skin. an attempt to coax you back to bed.

“good morni— no, no. you need to get up.” you hold his face and pull him away from your personal bubble. his cheeks are squished against your palms, you have the urge to sink your teeth into them. “it’s robin’s concert today and we promised to come over for her album release lunch party.”

“you promised her.”

“and you are my official plus one to everything.” you bite one of his cheeks and aventurine lets you. he loves you too much to deny you of anything. he also really loves affection from you so this situation is more beneficial for him than for you.

“so i’m just a pretty thing for you to flaunt around?” he turns his head in your hold in order to land a kiss on your inner wrist, his gaze affectionate and soft as they bore into you.

“my pretty lover whose presence i always want around? yes, you are.” finally, you lean down to kiss him. aventurine sighs at the feeling of your lips on his. he can taste the coffee you must’ve had before you went to wake him up.

“okay, enough.” you pull away. instantly, he frowns like a child whose candy got stolen. he tries to chase after you but a hard bite on his nose is enough to make him back down (he sends you a glare though). “get up. we still have to pick up veritas on the way.”

“he’s a grown man. he can drive himself there.”

“apparently, he was grading papers until 4am. he is in no condition to drive, baby.” you walk away from him after a last kiss on his lips. aventurine groans, annoyed that his sleep got interrupted and he felt like your kisses weren’t enough. he needs more than five kisses to fully function in a day. he pats around the bed for his phone, arm lazily hitting the pillows scattered around the bed.

as he clicks on the power button, his jaw drops in disbelief. you.. how could you….

“it’s five in the morning! why— it’s still too early!”

“you kicked me off the bed! it’s payback!”

“you’re such a menace, oh my god.”

“love you, baby! come down! breakfast is waiting.”

likes and reblogs are appreciated! masterlist

#tim writes.#honkai star rail #hsr x reader #hsr imagines #hsr #hsr aventurine #honkai star rail aventurine #aventurine headcanons #aventurine x reader #aventurine #aventurine honkai star rail #star rail aventurine #hsr aventurine x reader

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starlightxsvt · 1 year

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Bloodily Safe | j.ww

pairing ➳ psychopath!wonwoo x fem!reader

genre ➳ psychological thriller? camgirl au(read note below), college au, smut

word count ➳ 18.5k

warnings ➳ toxic relationship, blackmailing, drinking, descriptive domestic abuse, death, manipulation, threatening, fingering, slapping, choking, marking, cum eating, degradation, virgin sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, humiliation kink, pain kink, psychopathic behaviours, very descriptive violence, blood, rape attempt, arson, murder (lmk if I forgot smth)

synopsis ➳ you have a little secret. one you are desperately hiding. yet the boy you have a crush on has figured it out. now a game of cat and mouse has begun. how do you make it out alive?

disclaimer:❗ I am, by no means an expert in behavioural abnormalities so please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction. I tweaked the story and their characteristics to my needs so please don't take this seriously. Also, this fic contains some highly sensitive topics so please read the warnings carefully. Do not interact if you are sensitive to these things ❗

note: reader isn't a camgirl in the typical sense, she basically reads erotica on live.

loosely based on the kdrama shadow beauty

The glaring red light of the camera lens blinks at you as pause for a moment between your reading. Your tablet sits on your lap, glowing brightly in the lowly lit room as 8 thousand viewers watch you live through the lens.

With a sigh, you continue reading in your best teasing voice.

Your mouth hangs open in a silent scream as you feel him release inside you, making you clench. You’re not surprised when he doesn’t stop but continues thrusting inside you, far from being done with you and you feel another orgasm impending. Your pussy hurts in the best ways possible and just thinking about coming once again have your toes curling.

Surprising you, one of his hands move onto your neck, gripping it firmly and applying just enough pressure to make your body curl up and see stars. It triggers your orgasm, multiplying it by hundreds and seeing the godlike man on top of you, reaching his high, his dark, predatory eyes trained on you makes you go off like a rocket. You swear you see God himself as your body completely lets go and you feel like you’re floating in a place of pure bliss. The feeling of him releasing inside you makes you shudder before he slips out and shuffles on the bed, probably cleaning you up but you’re too gone to care.

With a blissful smile and a hazy mind, you let sleep take you.

"That will be all for today guys. Thank you so much for tuning in. I'll be back on Thursday night!" You wave at the camera as soon as you finish and do your signature pose— making half hearts on your cheeks with your hands as the viewers leave comments asking you to stay a bit longer. Sending a flying kiss towards the camera you turn off your live and watch as the screen loads to show you how much you've earned for the two-hour live. Once the number pops up, you sigh with satisfaction and finally, take off the mask that you wear to conceal your identity.

After all, you wouldn't want people, especially your classmates or professors to find out you read erotica live in skimpy underwear and flirt with people to earn some extra bucks.

Well, a girl's gotta do what she gotta do.

Quickly changing out of the uncomfortable lingerie, you put on a comfortable t-shirt and crawl to bed with your laptop to check if the money has been transferred to your account. The camming website takes 20% of whatever you earn from each live yet the amount left is enough for you to make your work worthwhile.

Camming was never in your mind at all, even in your wildest dreams. Yet when your mother fell sick last year and the medical bills started piling up, you knew you had to find some easy way to earn good money. Then, one day, you overheard a couple of girls in class talking about camming and how good the money is.

Simply curious, you visited the website only to be unlocked to a whole new world. Thousands of people did a variety of adult content there but you were not brave enough to get naked from the start. So you opted for a safer option, reading erotica on live while wearing lingerie and flirting with the camera.

The first time you did it was only to test the waters using whatever equipment you had at hand but surprisingly, the response you got shocked you. So it started, you doing lives two days a week and earning enough money to pay for your mother's treatment and your college bills.

nerdycatboy wants to chat with you

The notification appears on your screen, telling you someone wants to talk to you privately on the camming website. You generally block these messages as most of them ask for nudes or send dick picks. Still, you click on it and watch as three dots appear, your fingers hovering over the block option, ready to press it as soon as the sender sends something inappropriate.

Surprising you, the message reads:

[nerdycatboy]: Hello, cherrybaby!

Today was the second time I watched your live.

You have a really beautiful voice.

I don't frequent these sites but I opened an account just to send you tips. Hope you received them.

Somewhat flattered, you type out a reply.

[you]: Thank you so much. I'm flattered to hear that. And yes, I received them.

[nerdycatboy]: You're welcome.

Also, I wanted to tell you something.

[you]: Sure.

[nerdycatboy]: I know who you are.

[you]: Excuse me?

[nerdycatboy]: ______. ______ of the Psychology department, Seoul University.

You're studying on scholarship.

Wanna know something funny?

I am your classmate ;D

Your throat feels something akin to a desert as you blink at the screen, praying for it to be a hallucination. The words, however, don't change and the daunting realization hits you.

Someone has figured out your identity.

Someone knows it's you.

But who?

Shit, who? Who could it possibly be?

You share your classes with almost eighty other people and it's impossible to guess this... stalker.

You're absolutely fucked.

It has only been a month since college started and you are doomed. What if whoever this is, exposes your identity and you are expelled?

Dear almighty, please let this be a dream.

A sudden ping! alerts you about another message, making you jump. Carefully, you open the chat to see what your stalker has to say.

[nerdycatboy]: Come on now, don't leave me on read.

You wouldn't want me to get angry now, would you?

A squeak of despair leaves your lips as your fingers nervously hover over the keyboard.

[you]: What do you want?

[nerdycatboy]: To play a game.

This really isn't looking good.

[you]: Please, just leave me alone.

[nerdycatboy]: Ey, where's the fun in that? Come on now, we'll just play silly little games.

You stare at the screen, your world coming down crashing on you as you wonder in the back of your mind, whether you should stop camming for good. Even if you wanted to, it's not possible.

Who's gonna pay for your mom's bills?

[nerdycatboy]: You there?

[you]: Yes.

[nerdycatboy]: Good. I'll come again before your next live. We're gonna play a little game then, okay?

You stare at the screen in silence.

[you]: Okay.

[nerdycatboy]: That's a good girl. In the meantime, have fun trying to figure out who I am. We see each other every day after all. It's just that you wouldn't know who I am.

You grind your teeth, holding back the urge to type all sorts of curse words you can think of.

[nerdycatboy]: Bye bye, now. Sleep tight.

[you]: Fuck you, loser.

You slam your laptop shut and lie in silence, curled up in your bed. The only way out seems to be to permanently delete your account but that is not an option for you. It is also quite literally impossible for you to figure out who it is. You don't even know if it's a guy or a girl or a goddamn fucking alien.

As the night grows deeper you only start to get more anxious and only when the sun starts to rise in the sky, do you fall asleep, your dreams plagued by the haunting messages from earlier.

II.

"_____? _____!"

The deep voice jolts you awake as you blink around, taking time to realize that you've fallen asleep on your desk during the lecture which now seems to have ended as you see everyone around you packing their bags and leaving.

A man stands next to your desk, holding a few sheets of paper towards you and you blink at them, confused.

"The professor gave us the answer sheet for last week's quiz. You seem to have fallen asleep during class." He says.

Your brain finally starts functioning just enough to realize it's Wonwoo talking to you.

Jeon Wonwoo.

The famous nerd, the genius, the pro gamer, the campus crush, the it boy and...

The man of your dreams.

"Right! Right, thank you," you croak, reaching for the sheets with one hand while trying to wipe the corners of your mouth for any drool.

"It's alright." He replies, as impassive as ever. His expression remains somber as always as he regards you through his glasses. Sometimes you wonder if he's a robot. Even though you have known him since high school, you've yet to see the man smile or shout or show any vivid emotion. He has always been the quiet type, keeping to himself, always studying or doing whatever intelligent people does.

He was the most popular guy in high school, loved by all, even the teachers, because of his perfect and polite demeanor and extraordinary results that got him many awards at the national level. The fame followed him to college too as you have seen in the last two months; with women and even some men flocking around him. You are not ashamed to admit you are one of them too, but not like it matters.

Jeon Wonwoo seems to be living in a completely different world.

"No, thanks, really." You reply, slightly awkward, not knowing what else to say exactly. He nods and slings his backpack over his shoulder and turns around to walk away. He seems to have a thought as he turns his head and asks, "Rough night? I haven't seen you doze off in class ever. You are always on top of your game."

Holy shit, that is the most amount of words he has spoken to you. Scratch that, that's the most you've ever heard him speak at a time.

And more importantly, he has been paying attention to you?? He notices you enough to know that you don't doze off?

Swallowing, you try not to let your face break out into a grin. "Yeah kind of," you mumble. He nods and spares you a glance before walking out of the classroom as you watch his lean, athletic frame from behind, a soft sigh escaping from your lips.

After he's gone, you pack up your stuff, mentally face-palming yourself for falling asleep during class. Not only did you fail to keep an eye out for your stalker but you also made a fool of yourself in front of Wonwoo.

What a great day!

III.

The next Thursday, a delivery from an anonymous person comes to you just a couple of hours before your live. A handwritten note sits on top as you open the package and your gut sinks once you realize who it's from.

Hello there, little cherry!

Please accept my lovely gift. Wear it in your live today unless you want your secret to be out ;)

Also, wear something black with it.

Love, your new best friend!

You crumple the note in your hand as you eye the package nervously, dread filling your veins as your mind tries to conjure what the item might be. Hands shaky, you reach for it to rip it open and then stand in silence as you gaze at it for a while.

The asshole sent you a cat costume.

A sexy cat costume.

More specifically a pair of black cat ears, a cat mask, a pair of paws and a... fucking tail.

Absolutely mortified at the idea of wearing these provocative items on live, you sink onto the floor, an utter sense of despair settling over you.

Sweet lord, this has to be a joke.

Quickly logging in to the camming website you type your new best friend a message.

[you]: You're kidding me, right? Please tell me this is a joke.

The asshole is very quick to reply.

[nerdycatboy]: I see you have received my gift. No, little cherry, I am not kidding.

You grind your teeth, eyes burning holes in the screen.

[you]: I can't wear that on live!

[nerdycatboy]: Why not? You'll look absolutely lovely. The black really goes with your skin tone.

Oh for fucks sake.

[you]: Are you a fucking furry?

There are several minutes of silence.

[nerdycatboy]: You are fucking cute you know that? I don't remember the last time I laughed this hard.

[nerdycatboy]: No, cherry, I am not a furry. I just like cats and you remind me of one. I bet if I touched you, you'd purr real good.

You would never admit how that text sent a jolt of shiver down your spine and made your toes curl.

[you]: Please, can you not do this?

[nerdycatboy]: Come on now, don't whine. It won't get you anywhere.

[nerdycatboy]: I'll tune in later. If you do not do as you're told you know what will happen...

[nerdycatboy]: Ah, I forgot. You don't have to wear the tail during your live. It will be uncomfortable to sit with. Just send me a picture later, hmm?

[nerdycatboy]: Bye now.

Fucking mother of all fucks.

You toss your phone on the bed, groaning out loud in frustration. The cat ears and mask sit next to you on the floor, mocking you in silence.

IV.

"Hello, my darlings! This is your favorite cherrybaby, back with you. Today I'll be reading the second chapter of Sugar & Spice!"

The comments, as you expected, go nuts over your outfit— the black cat ears with the mask, covering the better half of the top of your face, the furry paws paired with a lace black lingerie. Despite your initial thoughts of ignoring them, you decide to address them with their never ending onslaught.

"Everyone is talking about my little props today." You pause for an awkward chuckle. "Well, I thought I would spice things up. Aren't these cute?"

You can hear the stiffness in your own voice. Shaking it off, you read a few comments while waiting for the live to reach your minimum number of tips, which only takes a few minutes today before you start reading the erotica.

Throughout the live, u have no idea if the asshole has joined in and you almost start to think that maybe he has left you for good, that maybe it was a one time prank. However during the last ten minutes of your live, as you proceed to wrap it up you see the notification that bring your eyes to your forehead.

nerdycatboy gifted you 500$.

Holy shit.

Holy fucking shit.

As soon as your live is finished you shoot him a private message.

[you]: Didn't think you'd be that pleased to see me dressed up as a cat.

[nerdycatboy]: Oh cherry, I was pleased alright. You were an absolute sight for sore eyes.

[you]: Thank you I guess?

[nerdycatboy]: Welcome. Now send me some pictures. Wearing the tail.

[you]: Can you answer a question first?

[nerdycatboy]: No promises.

You sigh. Here goes.

[you]: Are you a guy or a girl?

[nerdycatboy]: Why? Wouldn't send me the pictures if I was a girl?

You roll your eyes.

[you]: Just trying to narrow down my suspect list.

[nerdycatboy]: Cute. Keep trying. I am a guy. The man straight out of your nightmares, as you will start to find out.

Okay...

There are many many guys in your class, literally half of the total students. It's impossible to figure him out among them.

[nerdycatboy]: Now the pictures, cherry. Don't keep me waiting.

His message breaks your train of thought as you sigh, defeated. Telling him to wait while you fetch the stupid cat tail and clip it on your underwear. You're too humiliated to look in the mirror so instead you place your tripod on the bed with your phone and pose a couple of times or so, one from the front and one from the back.

As you scroll through them, you cannot bring yourself to believe you just took these pictures and let alone you're about to send them to someone. Each of them is equally provocating and humiliating. Before you start to think too much you bite your lip hard and send, watching as he views your message.

[you]: There you go, asshole.

[nerdycatboy]: Only three?

[you]: Take it or leave it. I'm tired.

You reply, not caring to be polite. The frustration and humiliation get to you as you rip the stupid things off your body and toss them away before falling on your bed and lying face down in silence.

[nerdycatboy]: Getting feisty. It's okay, I'm feeling kind today so I'll let you go.

[nerdycatboy]: Until next time, little cherry. xoxo

You watch his messages, a numbing feeling of defeat settling over you as you turn off your phone and push it away.

Even though you desperately want to think of nothing a thought continues to nag you. A shameful, despicable thought that you just can't seem to ignore.

You might be really enjoying being humiliated by an unknown man on the internet. How truly absurd, no? You let out a scream of frustration into the pillow. A faceless, seemingly rich man who has a kink of humiliating you is keeping your mind awake and body restless at night.

How did it ever get to this?

[nerdycatboy]: I've been thinking about your task for tomorrow and finally made a decision.

[you]: Okay...

[nerdycatboy]: Wear a white shirt. Nothing more, nothing less.

[you]: Excuse me?

[nerdycatboy]: You heard me all right, little cherry.

You keep staring at the message as if looking at it long enough will make it disappear. It definitely doesn't. In fact, it gets worse.

[nerdycatboy]: And keep the top two buttons undone. Showing a little cleavage won't hurt. And wear red lipstick.

You keep staring at your screen, wondering in the back of your mind for the nth time just how your life came to be this.

God sure loves to test you.

[you]: I'm not a harlot you know.

[nerdycatboy]: Never said you were one. Besides what's wrong with being a one?

Him and his way with words. You roll your eyes, your fingers pressing the keys on the keyboard angrily.

[you]: If I wear white my tits will show.

[nerdycatboy]: That's exactly the point.

A seething rage envelopes your entire being as you clench both of your fists, inhaling a few deep breaths to stop yourself from smashing something. Ever since you came across this asshole you're realizing you've unlimited anger that you never thought you had in you.

[you]: Whatever, dick.

You reply and shut off your computer in an unsuccessful attempt to block him out.

However, the next day, you do end up doing your live in a plain thin white shirt which of course, makes the chatbox go up in flames.

Within a minute of starting your live, comments about your outfit start flooding in.

Fuck, you look so hot!

The red lips suit you so much!!

Yo, I can see her nipples.

You're getting bolder these days. Love to see it!!!

I'll pay anything for you to take the shirt off.

Swallowing, you ignore the crude comments and start with your usual greeting. "As you can see, everyone, my outfit is a bit risky today. Just thought I'd venture into something new." You force a laugh.

Did she lose a bet or something?

Yes, we need more risky outfits. How about being topless next time?

It's a downpour of all types of comments but you can't let them get to you. So you start reading the erotica instead, reading one or two decent comments every now and then for the next two hours. The view count is insane, the highest you've ever had and the number of tips are also sky high.

A tiny, tiny part of you is thankful to your crazy stalker, whom, you haven't seen in the comments section. You could have missed him, sure, but he was silent during the last live too so you can't rest easy knowing he is watching. You're ninety-nine percent sure he's gonna DM you as soon as the live is over.

Which turns out to be accurate.

Just as you are done taking off your mask and stretching your sore muscles after the live, his message pops up on the screen.

[nerdycatboy]: you looked absolutely devouring, little cherry.

You don't know why those words make you flush. Just a little bit, you tell yourself.

[you]: thanks, pervert.

[nerdycatboy]: this pervert would like some pictures today too.

Oh god. You rub your temples.

[you]: definitely not nudes.

[nerdycatboy]: no? :(

[nerdycatboy]: I don't want nudes, ____. Let us build up to it ;) Just snap some of you sitting on your bed with those pouty red lips. And undo another button of your shirt.

It's humiliating how his orders make you curl your toes and feel giddy all over. Like an obedient pet, you do as you're told, a bit too enthusiastically. You take your time and make sure to appear sexy and get the best angles. Once satisfied, you send them to the anonymous and wait eagerly.

[nerdycatboy]: you're a sight for sore eyes.

[you]: Prof Luther's assignment getting to you?

[nerdycatboy]: Mhmm. These will definitely help me power through.

[you]: glad I could be of help 🙄

[nerdycatboy]: you sure are. until your next live, little cherry. don't miss me too much.

You snort.

[you]: yeah, whatever, sicko.

[nerdycatboy]: Also, I'll be sending you a gift. You'll love it. I already do.

Oh god. Worry begins to bloom as your brain tries to think of the gift. What will he be sending you now? What is he gonna make you do on your next live? More importantly, are you seriously looking forward to it?

Yes, you are. This tiny, fucked up part inside you is excited and all too eager to please and obey a random stranger on the internet.

[you]: Please don't.

You type instead.

[nerdycatboy]: You should receive it within the next three days. We'll talk then.

[nerdycatboy]: Bye, little cherry. Sweet dreams.

And he's offline, leaving you hanging once again.

VI.

True to his words and from your worst nightmares, a package arrives three days later. Once again, you're too scared to open it, just standing there in silence while chewing on your lower lip. Your gut is telling you that it won't be something good which means it can only be something humiliating and freaky.

Taking a deep, calming breath, you start to open the outer packaging to find a baby pink cardboard box. There's a note taped on top of the lid.

I can't wait to see you use this on camera, little cherry.

It's only a line but it has you sweating buckets as you take off the lid with shaky hands.

Your world comes to an absolute halt. For long moments, you just stand rooted to your spot with your mouth agape, convinced that this can't be real.

It is, unfortunately.

The asshole sent you a vibrator.

A fucking vibrator.

It's a huge Hitachi wand and just looking at it gives you shivers.

There is absolutely no way...

You're immediately reaching for your phone to fire a text to the asshole.

[you]: Wtf? Is this a joke?

You type and snap a picture of the device to send it to him.

It seems that he has been expecting you to text as he immediately replies.

[nerdycatboy]: It absolutely is not. I am very much looking forward to seeing you use it.

[you]: Fuck you, dickhead. I won't. There's a limit to everything.

[nerdycatboy]: There's no limit to the games we play, little cherry. In fact, this doesn't even begin to cover it. I have more plans for you.

You can't think of a way this could get any worse.

Holding your breath, you wait for him to elaborate.

[nerdycatboy]: Little cherry, do you want to hear my voice?

What?

Your breath catches in your lungs as you stare wide eyed at the text for a long time.

[you]: Yes but not at the cost of this.

[nerdycatboy]: Hmm, as stubborn as ever. What if I told you I'd reveal myself if you use the vibrator on yourself in live?

It's the second time your breath stutters, a small gasp emitting from you as you cup your open mouth.

Immediately, the gears in your brain start turning. You'd finally get to know who he is and end this misery. Maybe you can come up with some sort of dirt on him and blackmail him in return. The possibilities are endless, truly.

However, more than anything else you're excited to finally see who it is and no matter how much you keep telling yourself no, a teeny tiny part of you is eager to pleasure yourself on camera.

God, what have you become, _____.

With a defeated sigh, you start typing.

[you]: You drive a hard bargain.

[you]: Alright. You have a deal but make sure to keep your promise.

[nerdycatboy]: I vow on my degree, little cherry. You will know who I am within the next forty-eight hours.

The thought sends an exciting chill down your spine.

[nerdycatboy]: Exciting, isn't it?

You roll your eyes.

[you]: Shut up and tell me what I need to do in the live.

[nerdycatboy]: Ah, yes. Nothing that tough really, wear that white shirt you wore last time and play with yourself. According to my instructions, of course.

[you]: Your instructions?

[nerdycatboy]: Yes.

I'll be on call with you throughout the live, giving you instructions.

Your curl your toes and bite your lip, a new wave of excitement rising within you as heat pools in your belly. This is unlike anything you've ever done before and way out of your comfort zone but surprisingly, you're all too ready to comply.

Your hands are shaky as you type.

[you]: Okay.

[nerdycatboy]: You are so obedient, my cherry. It really is great fun to play with you.

I'll call you tomorrow just before your live, then.

You swallow.

[you]: Alright.

He doesn't reply anymore and you think he has gone offline. Just as you are about to log out too, another text comes.

[nerdycatboy]: And remember ______, you follow every instruction of mine. That means you follow how I tell you to please yourself and you come when I tell you to. If you do a single thing without my permission, you're absolutely done for.

Your earlier feelings are replaced with an overwhelming feeling of trepidation and doom in the blink of an eye.

Quick realization dawns on you that you are a mere puppet being controlled by an evil puppeteer and your fate is hanging by a thread.

VII.

The next day, you receive an incoming voice call from nerdycatboy just two minutes before your live.

You are ready with your full setup; you just need to start the live when it's time. The AirPods are also set in your ears for him to guide you through.

At first, your entire body freezes up as your phone starts ringing and anxiety envelopes you as and you fall into a spiral. But when you remember how your entire life is on the line, you pick up the phone just as it's about to stop ringing.

Inhaling deeply, you speak.

"Hello?"

There's a beat of silence on the other side.

And another.

"Start the live, _____. It's time."

The voice is deep, gravelly, familiar yet unfamiliar but you don't get to think long about it because your finger presses the start button and just like that you're on live.

You see yourself on the screen, dressed in a white shirt amidst the neon pink lighting in your room. Today, you've put on a wig— a baby pink wig with two high ponytails and wore a basic black face mask instead of your usual stylish mask that covers the upper half or more of your face. It's obvious you're trying to cover as much of yourself as possible to counter the part that you're going to show.

Oh, sweet lord, you're doing this.

Your greeting and interaction are a lot stiffer compared to other days as there is a sadistic man in your ears. You've also restricted the comment box because you feel it's necessary for today, hence they move slowly as you go through them.

The man in your ears has been quiet but you know he's there, waiting with you, for the view count to reach the minimum. As soon as it does, he speaks.

"Why don't we get started, _____. Introduce your toy to everyone."

You swallow as your panicky gaze lands on the intimidating piece of device right out of the camera frame. You are full of nerves and anxiety and to de-stress yourself just a bit, you take a sip of the wine that you've hidden in your coffee cup.

Then, with a deep breath, you start.

"So guys... I've already said that I'm not gonna be reading today. Instead, I'm trying something new and different. Very, very different." You force a smile at the camera as you pick up the device and grip it tightly in your hand.

"I'm in the mood for...playing tonight and guess what I'm playing with?" You inhale deeply before lifting the device to show it to the camera, moving it around in a teasing manner.

As expected, the people in the comments go insane.

"That's right. I'll be using this pretty toy on me." You give a seductive smile, despite wearing the mask, hoping your eyes coney the expression.

"Good job, little cherry. Let's not waste time now. Turn it on." The man commands quietly and once again you're body acts like it's on autopilot, obeying him immediately.

There's something about his voice, so dangerous, so attractive. Something so powerful you don't dare disobey.

It's insane, really.

As ordered, you plug in the device and turn it on, watching warily as it starts vibrating, your throat going dry.

"Go ahead. Open your legs and put it on your pussy. Don't hold it anywhere too long, though. Tease yourself."

Oh fuck.

The sensible, conscious part of you starts freezing up with fear while the other part lets you only think about how hot all of this is and how eager you are to comply.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you lean back on your seat and part your legs. Trembling hands reach between them to pull your pink lacy panties to one side, revealing yourself to the camera.

There, you've done it.

Something inside you goes numb as you feel the chilly air on your bare core and from then on, you start feeling like a complete puppet, only here to dance as her puppeteer pleases.

Now there's no going back.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the comments fly by as the view count increases significantly.

Your puppeteer has been silent and you're somewhat grateful for his patience as you slowly adjust to your actions.

With another huge breath, you bring the thrumming device to your pussy and gingerly touch yourself while interacting with the camera, careful to follow the given instructions.

You're so wound up you don't feel any pleasure at the first touch on your pussy.

"You're so tense, _____. Don't make it look like someone is holding you at gunpoint. Relax your body, little cherry."

It proves to be harder said than done.

Still, you try to get yourself to relax and interact with the camera as you once again bring the device to your lips, playing with yourself.

"Good girl, _____. You look absolutely ravishing right now. Just keep following my voice and I promise you'll have the best orgasm you've ever had."

His tone is gentle yet ordering and oh so deep that you close your eyes and just let his words wash over you. The vibrator touches your clit right then making you jolt in your seat, a sigh of pleasure falling from your lips.

"Fuck, you're soaking, little cherry. You can try to act unwilling but deep down you are loving this. This is what you want, what you need, _____." His voice is gravelly as he breathes in your ears and you chew on your lower lip, knowing there is some truth to his words.

"Hold your pussy lips open, cherry. Run the toy up and down your folds."

You do as you are told, holding yourself open to the camera as the vibration goes through your soaking folds, making you whine in need.

"Turn the vibrations up. Just one bit."

The toy thrums stronger against your core and your legs start shaking just the tiniest bit. They have fallen wide open, resting against the armrest of your chair as you play with yourself.

"So obedient, little cherry. And so filthy. You're a real sight." He whispers. Your brain is starting to feel hazy as all your attention hones down to get yourself to release but as you expected, it doesn't prove to be so easy.

"Turn it off. Now."

Despite the serious urge to disobey him, you turn off the vibrator, teeth gritting, your pussy twitching in protest.

"We're you close, little cherry? Too bad, we can't have you cumming so easily. Turn it on again. Stroke yourself with it. Slowly."

And once again, you are eagerly following his words.

"Push it inside your pussy lips, little cherry. Just a bit. Not all the way, though."

Swallowing, you release a shaky breath and slip the vibrating head inside you, just a little bit— not even half of the head and the pleasure significantly increases as you let out a loud moan.

"Feels good doesn't it? Don't you dare slip it all the way in. There's no way I am letting a toy get inside you before myself."

His words make a shiver roll down your spine as you think of his cock and him whispering filthy words in your ear as he takes you. The little, sane part of your brain shakes her head at your deprived thoughts about a faceless man who has been blackmailing you.

"Turn it off."

Just like before, the man seems to know when your orgasm starts to rise. He tells you to shut off the device and much to your reluctance you do so, not knowing how long you can continue this without losing your mind.

"Turn it on to the highest setting this time. Hold it right on your clit. Don't you dare cum, cherry. I wanna see you writhe."

Oh fuck.

It's a really tough challenge, one you're sure you're gonna fail, yet you're helpless. You do as you're told, holding the throbbing device on your most sensitive part as you start to feel like you're gonna lose your mind. Your head falls back as your eyes roll to the back of your head, heavy pants falling from your lips as your legs shake.

"P-please, let me...come."

"You look so fucking hot right now cherry. I want to see you like this, begging for my cock. Tell me, do you want it?"

"Y-yes. Please..." You are so close you can taste the release.

"Turn it off, cherry. Right now."

With a cry of protest, you turn off the vibrator and let it fall from your hands as you slump back in your chair and catch your breath.

This is the sweetest torture.

The comments go wild, some wanting to see you come and some telling you to keep edging yourself. As you watch the number of tips only increase, your toes curl at the indecency of all of this.

"Let's continue, baby. Turn it on, play with yourself."

Hands shaky, you reach for the device again.

This game of cat and mouse continues until you're a crying and begging mess. He finally grants you your release and then rewards you with a short break before continuing. In the next couple of hours, you come three more times and your bones turn to jelly by the end of it. The live reaches its end when he finally hangs up the call and you're all too quick to wrap things up.

When your computer screen goes black and you can see your disheveled state in the reflection, your mind blanks out as you sit in complete silence, the happenings of the evening slowly replaying in your mind.

The money you've earned tonight is more than you could ever imagine and yet there is no happiness or relief bubbling in you. Rather, you feel empty and absolutely numb, the past hours feeling like a fever dream but the ache between your legs tell you they are very painfully real.

The screen of your phone lights up with two notifications, interrupting your trance.

nerdycatboy has sent you 1000$

[nerdycatboy]: a little gift for your hard work

You stare at the screen in silence until it goes black and then some more. It takes a while for you to realize tears are rolling down your cheeks. And then you are full-on sobbing as you hide your face in your hands and weep at the overwhelmingly miserable situation of yours.

When you finally get some sleep it is late into the night and tears are staining your cheeks and your pillowcase.

VIII.

Despite the rough night, you attend your classes the next day, somewhat glad that they are in the evening. You doze through all of it though, tired and way too distracted to pay attention to the lecture.

The tips of your fingers drum continuously against your desk as you wait for the class to be over. Your mind is spiraling; going haywire thinking about the fact that you will be meeting nerdycatboy today.

That is if he keeps his promise.

He hasn't contacted you since last night and given his stalker-ish tendencies, you're sure he knows your schedule. So why hasn't he messaged you yet?

Probably because he played you, silly girl.

You let out a loud sigh, frustrated, exhausted and enraged. How much longer will this match of cat and mouse go on? You have seriously started to consider shutting off your page temporarily because playing this stupid game with the anonymous asshole is proving to be way too much for you to bear.

The lecture finishes at some point while you're stuck inside your head and as you start packing your bags, you receive a text.

It's him.

I'll meet you at the library building in half an hour.

Your head immediately snaps up as your eyes scan the crowd leaving the classroom, a failed attempt to pinpoint him.

Okay, I'll be waiting.

You grab a coffee while waiting for him, your foot tapping the ground incessantly as you come to terms with the fact that you will be seeing him soon. Your misery will finally be over.

Hopefully.

What do you do when you see him? Curse at his face? Hit him? Or say it was nice playing stupid games with you now please leave me alone?

You've no idea. Your nerves leave you feeling jittery and tense as you see the clock hit seven in the evening. Half an hour is almost up so you start walking towards the library building, goosebumps arising on your skin as shivers roll down your spine.

You don't know if it's the chilly evening air or your nerves.

The library closes at six thirty so there is no one around the building now. The sun has long set and the sky is dark now, save for the little bits of orange and pink here and there.

It could be your brain projecting things but the atmosphere feels eerie and you wonder why he chose such an empty place. What does he plan to do with you? He wouldn't have chosen a quiet place unless he had some bad intentions, right?

Stop overthinking, _____. Your brain hisses.

The watch on your hand reads 7:10 now and there's no sign of anybody. Anxious, you shoot him a text, asking where he is and as expected you don't get a reply.

Tired of looking around the area with wide and restless eyes you decide to step inside the building. The ground floor is still unlocked as there are a few storage units here and you make yourself comfortable in the dimly lit hallway, leaning by a small window and focusing on the garden outside to distract yourself.

Seconds pass by with your feet tapping on the tile floor in matching beats. You grow more impatient, repeatedly checking the time and your message to see if it has been read.

Until you hear footsteps.

They echo down the hall as someone enters the building.

You hold your breath and watch the silhouette, your eyes taking a few seconds to adjust to the lighting.

And your entire world crashes and burns.

It's Jeon Wonwoo, walking towards you.

IX.

The first thing you tell yourself is that this is a coincidence, that he's here to get something from the supply closet. But the idea seems less and less plausible as he keeps walking towards you, his strides determined and only stops a few feet away from you.

You gulp, your entire body frozen as you gape at him with wide eyes, waiting for him to say something.

Judging from the upturned corners of his lips, your reaction seems to amuse him plenty. He stands there, his hands in his pockets as he watches you with a twinkle in his eyes and says the words you were still praying he wouldn't.

"Hello, little cherry."

Despite expecting those words, the shock that overcomes your system is enough to make you lose your footing as you stumble on your feet, hands reaching for the wall behind you to support yourself.

Your breath comes out in the form of short pants as small beads of sweat gather on your forehead.

You knew, you knew, you knew.

You knew it!

The second you heard his voice yesterday, your subconscious told you it was Wonwoo. You, however, chose to be ignorant, dismissing the idea just as quickly as it appeared.

There was no way it could be Wonwoo. Except it is.

You should be glad it is him, no? After all the man you had imagined in the place of the faceless man was always Wonwoo. He had been the man of your fantasies for the longest time yet the feeling of betrayal and hurt is overwhelming.

Funny, considering that he didn't actually betray you. If anything, you have been betraying yourself.

Wonwoo stands in front of you, still as a statue, hands in his pockets, his stance calmer than a winter evening. His face is blank but there is a glint in his eyes, something between sadistic amusement and cocky satisfaction as he watches you crumble in front of him.

Where is the plain old nerdy Wonwoo?

"Wo-Wonwoo..." You don't know what you are trying to say as you lose your train of thought, dropping abruptly onto the ground. Accidentally, you scrape your index finger by the windowsill but your brain registers no pain due to the overwhelming shock as you simply sit in silence and stare as little drops of blood ooze out of the cut.

God, this is straight out of your worst nightmares.

Or, your darkest, filthiest fantasies?

Wonwoo, however, seems to spot the drops of red beading on your fingertips which you ignore. He takes slow but determined steps toward you, his footsteps echoing eerily through the empty hallway. When he is right in front of you, he stops before kneeling on one knee as one of his hands reaches for your injured finger.

He watches the little drops of blood ooze through the cut with rapt attention, his dark eyes somehow appearing darker in the dim lights. Then, surprising you, he takes your hand and brings the bleeding finger to his lips, his eyes intently focused on yours as he sucks the little cut. Your breath hitches, half of yourself wanting to yank your hand away from disgust and rage while the majority of you remain paralyzed as the hauntingly mesmerizing scene plays in front of you.

"Be careful now, can't have you getting hurt now, can we, little cherry?" He takes the finger out of his mouth and observes while the corners of his lips lift into an eerie smile that finally manages to bring some heat into your blood as you seize your hand out of his grip.

"Fuck you, asshole! You're fucking sick!" You hiss out the words you never thought you would say to Wonwoo.

Your attack brings an even bigger smile to his lips as he reaches out and gently tucks a strand of stray hair behind your ear. "Oh little cherry, tell me something I don't know."

You swallow and try to scoot away from him despite the limited space. "Did you have fun bullying me, you sicko?"

"Come on now, _____. Let's not twist the truth. I was not bullying you. We were just playing a game. Besides, I should be the one to ask that." He coos at you, his voice so innocent it makes your brain trip. Tilting his head to a side he keeps stroking your cheek with his fingertips and whispers, "Did you have fun being ordered around by me? By being humiliated? Hm, pretty girl?"

Your eyes widen and you swallow nervously, clenching your hands in tight fists to stop yourself from hitting him.

He chuckles. "It's alright. You don't have to answer that." He stands up, puts his hands in his pockets and stares down at you, tilting his head once more as if you're one fascinating creature. "Because we both know you loved it."

"I didn't!" Your protest is immediate as you muster every bit of strength to stand up and get into his face. "I didn't, you asshole. Don't kid yourself!"

Another pleased smile graces his lips. "Really? You didn't like it every time I called you a good girl? You didn't get more wet every time I told you I'd reward you with my cock?" He inches his face closer to yours, leaving just an inch of a gap.

"Do not kid yourself, _____." His voice drops a pitch as you feel the shift in him, goosebumps breaking on your skin. "You call me names but deep down you know you are a filthy slut and you loved being treated that way."

No. No, you didn't.

Or did you?

"Shut up!" You yell, pushing him with all your might as he stumbles a few steps back. There's a little pause in the air before his eyes meet yours as he pushes his glasses over the bridge of his nose.

"You want me to shut up because you know that it's the truth, _____-"

"Stop psychoanalyzing me!" You hiss, a fresh coat of tears blurring your vision. "Look at yourself, you twisted fucking jerk!"

You push past him as you try to stomp away but his hand catches your arm at the last second, tugging your body close to him. He leans down, his breath hovering on your ear as he whispers. "You better watch your mouth, cherry or I'll show you just how twisted I am. And you might not live to even see through it."

A bucket of ice-cold water seems to wash over you as you realize the gravity of the situation. For the first time since meeting Wonwoo, you're actually scared for your life, especially when you gaze into his pitch black pupils and the little flash of teeth peeking between his lips. Even though his grip on your arm is ironclad, you yank your arm away with all your strength and start running away from him, your heart thudding loudly in your ribcage.

You dash straight out of the library and you only stop until you're in front of a convenience store far enough. Falling on your knees, you catch your breath as you pant heavily, eyes scanning around to make sure he didn't follow you.

A new sense of fear and doom settles over you as you start to realize you might have walked into a situation that may not allow you to get out.

Alive, at least.

What's worse is that a part of you is actually excited.

XI.

Sorry guys, I cannot be doing today's and next week's livestream due to some personal problems. Please understand. Thank you!

You post the notice on your camming page and lean back in your chair, exhaling a loud sigh. The past night has been tiring with the constant struggle of being alert and a dreadful paranoia that won't leave you alone. Jeon the twisted Wonwoo keeps reappearing in your thoughts, haunting you whatever you do.

Within minutes after your post, you get a notification of an inbox and you don't have to see it to know it's the one and only, Jeon psycho Wonwoo.

[nerdycatboy]: Must have really scared you, eh?

You stare at it for a while, thinking of something snarky to reply but nothing comes up so you just decided to ignore it.

He doesn't give up.

[nerdycatboy]: Don't be scared, cherry. We've had so much fun until now. You know it deep down.

Why ignore the obvious?

You sigh, rubbing your temples.

You really need a break from all this. From him.

[you]: Can you leave me alone for one day? Please?

He doesn't text back for a while.

[nerdycatboy]: Since I'm feeling kind, sure. I won't bother you for the next twenty-four hours. We'll talk after you've regained some of your composure and hopefully your senses.

[nerdycatboy]: Because deep down you know what you really want and you know that I'm the only one that can provide it.

[nerdycatboy]: Sweet dreams, little cherry.

His message radiates a type of threat the longer you stare at it and your mind starts to go haywire. So you shut your laptop off and lie in your bed in silence, his words repeating over and over in your head like a mantra.

Deep down you know what you really want and you know that I'm the only one that can provide it.

Yes, yes you do know that. And you feel absolutely horrible for it. Who in their sane mind would allow an unhinged, deadly man to humiliate and low-key blackmail them online for some twisted form of entertainment?

You, for sure.

Your issues run deep, girl.

You mentally shake your head at the situation. If you're attracted to a man like that there has to be something wrong with you, no? But what is worse is deep down, you don't want to stop. You want to push and push and take it to the very end, extremely curious to see what is in store for you with Wonwoo.

Nothing dull, for sure.

And as if you needed more proof; you end up seeing the man even in your dreams, where he does unspeakably filthy things to you and you only beg for more.

XII.

Sunday afternoon, when you're done soaking in the tub for a good hour while enjoying a much needed glass of wine, you sit on your robe and do your skincare when your doorbell rings.

You're confused because you aren't expecting anyone. However, when you peer into the peephole your confusion flips into terror and panic as you see Wonwoo standing.

You must be seeing things, right?

No, you realize, once you double check.

What do you do now? Pretend you're not at home? Tell him to fuck off? Call the police?

You're being too dramatic, your subconscious rolls her eyes.

But your emotions are valid because you have been ignoring texts from the man. True to his words he gave you just twenty four hours before starting to send you messages again that you were too overwhelmed and cowardly to open. Now you're realizing what a horrible decision that was.

Shaking off the thoughts you straighten up and square your shoulders, taking a deep breath as you open the door.

Wonwoo stands there, looking unfairly good, dressed in a plain loose white tee and dark blue jeans, his black hair falling messily on his forehead, a few strands lying on top of his steel-framed glasses.

You briefly wonder if you have a glasses kink, if there is even such a thing.

He stands there looking so boyfriend material, it devastates you, making you wonder if this is an alternate universe where you're a 'normal' couple.

Because he definitely doesn't look like a sadistic, anti-social, slightly psycho nutjob right now. And it messes up your brain chemistry badly.

"Hi," your voice is akin to a mouse squeaking as you feel hot all over.

"Hello, _____." His voice is so sinfully deep.

Why is acting so normal? Like he's a classmate here to do an assignment with you?

"I... wasn't expecting you..." You stumble over your words.

"You weren't replying to my messages so I thought I'd pay you a visit. Make sure you're okay, you know? Our last meeting really shook you up."

You really can't tell if he's teasing you or being genuine but the delusional part of you takes it as a genuine effort.

"May I come in?"

"Of course!" You blink, moving to make way for him. He walks past you, leaving a trail of his cologne wafting in the air that creates a sudden urge within you to grab onto him and sniff him like a dog.

Yeah, you have serious issues.

You follow him awkwardly as he looks around your small space.

"Would you like something to drink? Tea, coffee...water?" Somehow offering him wine right now doesn't feel appropriate.

"Tea, please. Black."

Why is he being so...nice? So normal? Is this the climax of his games? Murdering you in your own home after sweet talking you? After making you drop your guards? You shake your head at the possibility and watch the kettle as it heats the water, waiting for him to initiate a conversation which he doesn't.

This is suffocating.

When you offer him the steaming mug he murmurs a thanks and then asks, "Where's your setup? I'd like to see it."

Uh oh.

"Uhm," you fiddle with your fingers, suddenly nervous. "It's in my bedroom."

"Mind giving me a tour?" His face doesn't give away any malicious intent but then again, he has always been great at keeping a blank face. If anything, he genuinely sounds curious.

Sighing, you guide him to your bedroom. The room is decent size with your bed on one side and your setup on the other. It's nothing fancy, just your pc and your huge, comfortable chair.

"When I film I put up a screen behind me and turn on some lights, you know," you mumble trying to fill the void. He looks around carefully before casually taking a seat on your bed and sipping on his tea.

"It's pretty. Like you, little cherry." His eyes connect with yours and your skin breaks out in goosebumps.

He's so... attractive. Everything about him. His looks, his voice, his attitude, his low-key psychotic persona.

"Take a seat, I won't bite." He says, his signature smirk finally appearing as you shudder before tentatively sitting next to him on your bed, still keeping a few inches of space.

"How did you find my address?" You ask softly.

He shrugs, drinking his tea, "Did some snooping around."

Not surprising. Not unlikely of him either.

"Have you thought about what I said, little cherry? About what you really want?" He asks, his voice a deep timbre as he sets down the mug on your bedside table.

Oh boy, we're not beating around the bush.

"Are you seriously here to talk about that?"

"Answer my question." The way he says those words make you weak in the knees.

"Yes," you swallow, not breaking eye contact with him. A pleased smile graces his soft pink lips and you're hit with the sudden temptation of kissing them.

"And what is your conclusion?" He asks, leaning closer to you, his scent making your brain hazy. One of his fingers traces over your cheekbone and then past your jaw to your neck.

It's electrifying.

''W-what if I want nothing to do with you?" You whisper. He laughs quietly before whispering in your ear, "That is not an option because we both know that's the last thing you want, little girl."

Little girl. Your insides swoon.

His face is now inches apart from yours, his fingers caressing your cheek oh so softly as he watches you with those dark, seductive eyes of his.

It doesn't take a second for you to make your decision.

"Will...will you kiss me, Wonwoo?" You croak.

He arches a surprised brow before smiling in great pleasure as he leans back to watch you. "You are always a surprise, _____. Only if you say please."

"Please."

"Good girl," he praises and that's almost enough to make you come. He wastes no time, cupping both of your cheeks and pressing his lips to yours. Fireworks go off in your head. Your hands move to clutch his shoulders and a soft needy moan escapes your lips when you feel how solid they are.

Holy mother of gods, you need to get dicked down by him.

Immediately.

Wonwoo's tongue explores every bit of your mouth as his hands grab your jaw and neck tighter, his body shuffling close to deepen the kiss. You become a puppet and let him play with you as you melt in his arms, letting him lead however he wants to.

When you two break apart you're panting heavily. Wonwoo watches you with glinting eyes, his pink lips slightly swollen like yours as his thumb traces over your lips. You subconsciously open them and he pushes his thumb in, making you suck on his digit.

You do so eagerly, not breaking eye contact with him. Heat pools in your belly as his nostrils flare and he grunts. "You're a wicked little minx you know that, little cherry?"

I can be whatever you need, you inwardly purr as you give him a particular hard suck before he takes it back.

"You want my cock? Is that what you're trying to say?" He questions, standing up and tilting your chin to meet his gaze.

You can only nod, breathless with anticipation.

"I need words, ______. You're not mute." His voice is commanding, and scolding, which makes you even wetter.

"Please fuck me, Wonwoo."

He grins. An evil, victorious grin.

"Good girl. Stand up." You do so and he tugs the belt on your robe, making it fall open in a fluid motion. Your hands move to cover yourself but he glares at you in warning, making you stop halfway.

"Don't be shy now." He whispers, letting the material fall off your shoulders, leaving you completely naked. "I've seen this pussy on camera already, no?"

You swallow as his fingers trace between your legs and then easily slips one finger in due to your wetness. You sigh in pleasure while he lets out a satisfied hum.

"Tell me," he cups your pussy, thumb stroking your clit as you shudder. "How many men have touched this before me?"

You shake your head. "N-no one."

He tilts his head, a wry smile on his face. "Are you telling me I'm your first, baby?"

You nod, slightly shaking.

"Fuck, you just made me ten times harder. I'm gonna have much more fun defiling you now."

You gulp, stuck in a trance as you let him guide you back to bed with a hard push. You land on your back and watch Wonwoo take his tee off and boy, is that a sight. Your thighs automatically press together when his sculpted body comes into view and the sight of his broad shoulders makes you clutch the bedsheets in a tight fist.

However, something catches your eye; a patch of scarred skin right on his left abdomen, spreading from the front to his back and if you had to guess you'd say it is a burn mark. You don't get to think about it long because he's distracting you with a kiss.

"Like what you see?" He's cocky.

You nod, eyes settling on the bulge in his jeans, waiting for him to take it off so that you can see the object of your desires.

Alas, he has other plans for you.

"Open your legs, little cherry."

They fall apart on command as Wonwoo gets comfort between them, one of his hands trailing over your breasts and your belly while the other softly strokes your sopping wet core. It's embarrassing how easily he can slip two fingers deep inside you. "So fucking wet, you dirty whore." He muses with a smirk.

God, you love his voice.

Your moans rise in pitch as his fingers develop a rhythm, thrusting in and out of you in precise, perfect movements. Your release is so close you can taste it.

Automatically, your hips rise off the bed as your body tilts itself upward for a little stimulation on your clit. Wonwoo takes notice of it and laughs, "Aw, little whore is gonna come so soon? You want me to do this?"

The brush of the pad of his finger is enough to set you off as you scream and let your release wash over you. Your toes curl as you fist the sheets hard enough to almost rip them, riding out your high while he continues to plunge his digits in and out of you.

Once you finally get to catch your breath, he pulls them out and pops the fingers in his mouth, making a show of licking them.

You shudder, your body preparing for another round as moisture gathers between your legs once again.

"Fucking delicious." He grins, making you heat up all over. There is nowhere to hide, your whole body on display for him and he doesn't mask his appreciation as he drinks up every naked inch of you with a devouring gaze.

"Please, f-fuck me," you're not shy about begging as the need for his cock worsens.

"Oh I will," he promises, taking off his glasses and setting them down on your bedside table. Without much thinking your fingers trail over his chiseled abdomen and then down, over the tent of his pants as you fiddle with the button, trying to open it. Wonwoo amuses you for a while before batting your hand away, glaring at you. "Did I give you permission to touch me?"

You bite your lip and shake your head no.

"That's right." His voice is calm as he watches you for a few beats, hungry eyes trained on your lips before his right hand suddenly comes to wrap around your throat.

Your breath stutters as you watch him, wide eyed.

"Touch me again without permission and you won't be coming anytime soon." He threatens, tightening the grip on your throat as your airflow gradually decreases, making you feel fuzzy. You should be scared for your life, but you aren't, instead, the action only makes you wetter as you rub your thighs and mewl and beg with your eyes to ease the ache.

He listens.

Letting you go, he gets off the bed and takes off his pants and boxers, while your brain and lungs catch up due to the lack of oxygen. You blink and gulp when you see how blessed he is in length and girth, your breathing irregular.

Smirking at your reaction, he gets back on the bed and traps you beneath him, amusement and satisfaction dancing in his eyes. "I don't think you'll need any more prepping," he muses, trailing his fingers to your pussy and dipping one in the collect your arousal. You vehemently shake your head yes.

He laughs. "Hungry for cock, slut?"

"Y-yes." You whisper, breathless, wide eyed, needy.

Wonwoo leans down to nip on your jaw and your neck as he aligns himself with your entrance. Then, a thought comes to you.

"We... don't have a condom..."

"I'm clean, little cherry. Besides, there's no way I'd not take this virgin cunt bare." His words are vile and his smile is diabolical, sending shivers down your spine. It's alarming how attractive you find his insanity.

"Hold on to me. Bite my shoulder if it hurts too much." That's all the warning you get and not enough time to process as he shoves his cock inside you in one go. A loud wail erupts from your throat as tears burn your eyes, your nails digging into Wonwoo's biceps as you cling to him for dear life.

"So fucking tight." His voice is hoarse as he remains still for a few seconds, letting you catch your breath. The pain of the stretch doesn't ease up but the man on top of you isn't too bothered. He starts thrusting, slow, small thrusts at first as you rest your head in the crook of his neck and hold him tight, breathing harshly.

Soon, his pace increases, hitting that perfect spot inside you that makes you see stars and your toes curl. Feeling you tighten around him, he chuckles, "You like that? You like it when I hit here?" He punctuates by thrusting you right there once again and you scream.

"Yes! Harder!"

He scoffs. "Such a slut. How did you survive so long without a dick shoved up inside you, huh?" He leans back, prying your body off of him and grabs both your cheeks in one hand, puckering your lips. "Want it harder? Say please."

"P-please," you manage to utter despite his strong grip on your jaw. Your cheeks ache from how hard he grabs you but you're once again surprised by how much the pain turns you on.

"Open your mouth," he commands, intense eyes trained on you, his pace never faltering. You are not going to last very long, you realize.

You follow his command and open your mouth as he eases his grip and stunning you, he spits right into your mouth.

"Swallow it, little whore." He orders, making your pussy clench deliciously. You once again do as you're told.

"You loved that, didn't you?" He scoffs. "You are a real treat, little cherry. You're fucking perfect." His hands wrap around your throat, almost as leverage as his pace becomes wild, driving in and out of you so fast, the bed starts shaking.

"I'm..gonna come." You whisper. The pressure building inside you is about to burst and you can't hold it any longer. Not resuming his pace or bothering to acknowledge your words, Wonwoo keeps on going while slithering a hand down to your core, where he flicks your clit before roughly pinching it.

You go off like a rocket.

The pleasure is mind-numbing, making you arch off the bed with a wail. It's like a tsunami of pleasure has crashed onto you and it only amplifies when you feel him swell inside you before releasing himself. Your pussy is coated with warm bursts of his cum as your body continues to shake, still riding the wave of your high.

You feel him pull out, his cum trickling out of your spent hole as you still float back down to earth and before you can let out a sigh of relief that it is over, he's spreading your legs as wide as they can go, getting you in a spread eagle position.

"Keep your legs like that, slut." He commands, leaning down to capture your lips in a bruising kiss. It's all teeth and tongue and fierce that once again lights up the fire in your core.

What has this man done to you?

You're insatiable, riding a never ending lust filled high as you watch the insanely hot man on top of you. His hair is messier now and there's a light sheen of sweat on his body that only adds to the appeal.

You don't know if you want to devour him or be devoured by him.

"I'm not done with you yet." He murmurs, watching you with dark eyes as he strokes his cock. "Look at your blood on my cock, little cherry. Isn't that a sight?" He grins, flashing his teeth.

Goosebumps rake down your spine.

"I always loved blood but having you bleed on my cock? This is just incomparable, sweetheart." He pushes a couple of his fingers coated in your blood and his cum and shoves them into your mouth. You're all too eager to lick them clean without a second of delay.

Your tongue dances on his digits, licking them clean and tasting the metallic, bitter flavor before he pops them off your lips. Then, once again leaving you flabbergasted, he slaps you on the right cheek. It doesn't hurt bad but it stings and you're ashamed of how much you liked it.

The evil smile is back on his face. "You like that?" He smacks your other cheek and you nod eagerly. At this point you realize, there's nothing this man can do to you that you wouldn't like.

"You're an absolute fucking piece, little cherry. I'm so glad I snatched you up. Couldn't let any other man have you, could I?"

He kisses your jaw before moving towards your neck, sniffing as he goes. "You smell so addictive. So... mine." He muses as he sucks on the tender spot on your neck, making you sigh in pleasure.

"Please, Wonwoo..." You are desperate and your legs hurt from staying wide open. The plea reaches his ears as he sits back and puts his fingers in his mouth, wetting them before shoving them inside your sore yet throbbing pussy. He plunges them in and out for a while, pushing his cum back inside you and watching with a smirk how your mouth falls open in pleasure.

And then he thrusts himself in. You know this time it is gonna be quick with his extra fast movements as he holds your calves for leverage and pounds in and out of you restlessly. You're on the brink of losing your sanity with how good he feels, unceremonious moans and gasps continuously leaving your mouth.

Suddenly a smack graces you on the cheek, making your body jerk and pussy tighten. It takes a while to realize Wonwoo has slapped you again and once you do so, you eagerly wait for another. Unlike last time, your cheek heats up from the force and you can actually feel the flesh burn but gosh, do you not love it any less.

"Dirty fucking slut. Letting me treat you however I want. You love it, no? You love the pain?" He hisses, brows furrowed as his pace starts to falter. You nod eagerly moving your hips against his, desperately chasing your end.

Two punctuated thrusts on your g-spot and you come without any warning. Once again, you feel like you're launched into outer space as your entire body jerks, leaving you gasping for air. Wonwoo releases himself all over your stomach and tits this time, soft groans of pleasure falling from his lips.

It's addictive.

Everything about this man is addictive.

He is the sweetest form of darkness, here to drag you down to hell with him. And you have no complaints.

That is your last coherent thought before you fall into a peaceful slumber.

XIII.

The next day, Wonwoo sits next to you in class, acting like his usual self, like he didn't blow your back out last night. He stays mostly quiet and keeps to himself, focusing on the lecture and taking notes. However, underneath the desk, his hand holds your thigh in a possessive grip, his fingers dancing over your sensitive flesh.

It is safe to say you don't get to focus much on the lesson.

After the class, you and Wonwoo grab a cool drink and sit on one of the benches laid throughout the campus field.

You are still processing the events of last night and seeing how he hasn't mentioned it even once, you wonder if it was all your imagination.

No, it was all too real to be untrue.

As you sit next to him and chew on your straw, you wonder how you should approach the subject. Wonwoo, who has been silently enjoying his drink suddenly speaks, just as you get your thoughts together. It, however, is the last thing you expected him to say.

"Did I ever tell you about how I murdered a man?"

Your body turns into a block of ice as you whip your head towards Wonwoo, who sits with his elbows resting on his knees, an impassive look on his face. Silently, you blink a few times, waiting, just to make sure you didn't hear him wrong.

He is kidding.

Right?

He tilts his head to face you, a wry chuckle escaping his lips as he shakes his head at your expression. "Come on now, little cherry, don't look so shocked."

You cough and look away, a lame attempt to mask your expression. "I don't want to know anything I should not know." You murmur, looking down at the ground. "Besides, you're joking, right?"

"No, I'm not." He laughs a little, before exhaling loudly. "I also doubt you'd tattle on me. Who would fuck you so good like last night if I went to jail?"

His words make you squirm in your seat.

"Besides, it's a really interesting story. One I've never told anyone before."

Should you feel honored?

Wonwoo seems to take your silence as a yes because he starts narrating. "Once upon a time, there was a man. An alcoholic, pathetic excuse of a man who did terrible things to a woman, my mother. I was very young when it started. He'd beat the shit out of her for every little reason. It would only get worse when he got drunk, which was more often than not. Sometimes he'd lock her up in the basement and keep her naked and unfed. One time, when I was about ten years old, he broke every finger on her right hand just because the dinner wasn't served on time."

You have stopped breathing by now, as you sit in absolute silence, your limbs immobile as if you are paralyzed. You have a very good idea of where this story is going and how it might end. That should make you want to get up and leave but you just can't bring yourself to, as you sit mute and take occasional tentative peeks at the man next to you.

"That was the first time I stood up to him. My mother had passed out from the pain and I yelled at him and pushed him which made him take it out on me too. He hadn't hit me ever before. But that night, he kept on going till the dawn, as if making up for all the times he didn't."

He falls silent for a few moments and you take a chance to peek at him. As always, it's impossible to read him, his face an emotionless canvas and his eyes emptier than a desert, lost somewhere in his dark memories. You can't help but wonder if he feels any pain or remorse as he recalls his traumatic past. If he does, how can he mask it so well?

"Six months after that, my mother fell off the roof of our building. The police concluded it as suicide because they found out she was drunk. But she wasn't."

"The night before, as always, the pathetic loser came home drunk and smashed things around for a while. There was a ruby necklace that my grandmother gave to my mother when she got married. That night, he was asking for it because he needed immediate cash and my mother wouldn't give it. She probably had enough because that was the only night she stood up against him and she protested hard. I remember her smashing a bottle on his head. Of course, he wouldn't let that slide but something was different about him that night. He was more despairing, more evil. He slapped her around a few times before choking her until she passed out. I can still hear his words in my head.

I'll get rid of you tonight bitch.

I'll get rid of you for good."

He then took out a bunch of booze and ordered her to drink them, saying that if she resisted, I'd get the beatings. She obeyed him and I only watched, as I always did and he kept forcing her to drink till she couldn't utter a coherent word or couldn't even remain seated. Once she passed out from all the booze he came to me and patted my head. With the evilest of smiles, he said,

"Go to your room. You don't need to learn everything so early."

"Then he locked me in his bedroom and didn't let me go until the morning. By then the police had come and removed her body. Those imbeciles decided it was suicide and ended the investigation just like that.

I could have told them that it was a murder but I didn't. My mother's death stunned me so much that I couldn't speak for the next few months and the asshole used it to his advantage. He acted like the best father and husband in front of the police but then came and took out all his anger and frustration on me."

He finally pauses to take a look at you and your face must have been an open book because he chuckles, "Why do you look so pale already? I haven't even gotten to the best part yet."

You want to tell him that you look pale not because of the story but because you feel sad for the fucked up man sitting next to you and his fucked up childhood. Even though he has yet to reveal how his father died you have already convinced yourself that he deserved it.

"A year went by like that." Wonwoo continues. "My mother was gone and I was the new punching bag for the asshole. He'd beat me up almost every day but he wasn't that dumb. He would never hit me in the face because I went to school and people could ask questions. I endured it all, in fact, I might have even started to crave it. I started to think I deserved it and so I took it...until one afternoon. I had just gotten home from school. He was sitting in the living room, drinking and watching TV. He seemed to be in an okay mood so I showed him my report card and asked him to sign it so that I could submit it the next day. He was quiet for a while until he saw my marks in English.

He took a bottle of booze and poured it all over my report card, saying a loser like me is better off without one. Something snapped inside of me and I yelled at him. So he broke that bottle on my head and stuffed that wet report card into my mouth and started beating me up.

After he was done he told me to get him a glass of water and go out to buy more beer for him. There was a nearby store that knew us and let me purchase alcohol. At that moment I made a split-second decision. I went to the kitchen, grabbed some rat poison and mixed it in his water before giving it to him. When he passed out I went back into the kitchen and pulled out the gas pipe and turned the knob open, letting it leak all over. I then lit a match and watched as the entire house caught on fire in seconds. I got burned too, as you can tell from the scars you saw last night. I ran out and sat on the other side of the road, just watching the fire spread. The thought of him burning alive in there brought me so much pleasure that I forgot my own pain.

It was right after noon and we lived in a relatively deserted area so it took a while for people to find out and call the police. They never suspected me because why would a twelve year old set his house on fire? The neighbors also testified that the asshole was an alcoholic so the police concluded it as another accident."

He concludes with a loud exhale. Turning his head to face you, he smirks wryly, "And that's how I successfully got away with my first murder."

You are left with a loss of words so you just give him a shaky nod and stare down at your legs, trying to process everything.

A few beats of silence seem to pass before Wonwoo reaches for your chin and uses it to tilt your face up. He smirks, "Scared of me now, aren't you?"

You sigh, gently removing your chin from his grip. "No, Wonwoo, I'm not. You did what you had to survive. It's admirable how you held on for so long."

For the first time, you see an emotion vividly on his face; shock. His eyes widen and his lips part to a little 'o' as he gapes at you, stunned. His reaction evokes some sort of longing within yourself as you reach for his hand and hold it between yours. "I am not scared of you because there is nothing to be. You were a little boy and you had gone through so much. It's fucked up but you did it to survive and you've come so far-"

"I don't want your pity and I don't want you to psychoanalyze me." He hisses, cutting you off as he yanks his hand away from your grip. You can see the fierce anger in his gaze so you shake your head.

"I am not pitying you and neither am I psychoanalyzing you. Trust me, I am in no position to do that. Especially because I believe that that man was an absolute piece of garbage and he deserved what you have done to him, if not worse. I would have done the same, Wonwoo, long ago. You held on for so long. That makes you a survivor, not a bad guy."

Your words seem to sink into him as he remains quiet, watching you with careful yet wondrous eyes. You sigh, realizing that he probably isn't believing you so you decide to give him, and yourself, some space.

Just as you stand up, he yanks you down by your hand, making you fall awkwardly onto his lap. Then, before your brain can catch up, he kisses you, rough and fast.

His lips smash with yours as he holds a strong grip on your neck, angling your face to his advantage. His tongue explores every inch of your mouth, colliding with yours as your body goes lax and you give into him. It's like an aphrodisiac— his kiss, his touch, that makes you lose your guard as you fall deeper and deeper into an abyss.

When he pulls back, you are both panting heavily for air. "Do you realize what you just said?" He grunts, those fox-like eyes staring at you making your toes curl and your insides swirl. In a daze, you hum, "Hmm?"

"You'd make a great accomplice for a murder, no?" He chuckles, his thumb tracing your swollen bottom lip while you keep staring at his lips. All coherent thoughts and senses have left your body long ago as you find yourself swimming in the sweetest poison that is Wonwoo.

"More." You breathe.

He smirks, that evil, confident smirk of his that makes your panties wet. Once again, he starts moving before you can process anything, dragging you behind him and straight to one of the storage rooms in a nearby building. You follow him blindly and as soon as the door is locked, he pins you against the wall and between himself, effectively trapping you. Yet, there is nowhere you want to escape to.

"You are an enigma, you know that, little cherry?" He whispers, trailing kisses down your jaw as his hands work on unbuttoning your top. He quickly takes it off along with your bra before taking a step back and yanking your skirt down. The zipper on the waist lets out a groan of protest that falls onto your deaf ears as you remain too busy ogling the ungodly hot man in front of you.

"Take me out."

Your body is on autopilot as you immediately undo his belt and pull down the zipper.

"Put your hands over my shoulders and hold tight. Wrap your legs around me." He commands as one of his hands holds you below your thigh while the other positions himself on your entrance.

And before you can blink, he's inside you. The initial stretch of the intrusion makes you jolt and let out a loud gasp of pain but it's quick to dull. One of his hands covers your mouth, his dark eyes indicating you to remain silent while he starts to move in and out of you.

Oh boy, is it hard to remain silent.

Especially, when you can feel every delicious inch of him, moving in and out of you ruthlessly, making your body shake from the onslaught of pleasure. Your grip on his shoulders tightens as little squeaks escape from your lips and your legs wrap themselves around his body tighter when you start to taste your release.

"Gosh, you're such a slut, letting me fuck you against a wall, in a store room." Wonwoo grits, a twisted smirk on his lips as his gaze roams over your face leisurely. "What if someone comes in right now, huh? What if they see you bouncing your pretty ass on my cock?"

"Mmph," you try to moan, the image sending short circuits to your brain. Wonwoo chuckles, loving your reaction. "You'd like that, won't you? You're one filthy little slut, my cherry." He grins after giving you a particular hard thrust, that makes your toes curl.

"P-please," you pant, breathless trying to grind your clit against his pelvis. One touch on your clit and you're gonna come. "Please, touch me."

The man only smiles, a cruel, mocking smile as he grabs your wrists in one hand and pins them hard on the wall behind you before thrusting once, twice, so hard that your back starts aching. Though you can't bring yourself to complain because the next moment his release is filling you up, making you moan unceremoniously.

When you think he's now gonna help you get off, the man only releases you and starts fixing himself up leaving you panting against the wall awkwardly, with the worst ache between your legs.

"W-what about me?" You croak.

"Sluts don't get to come so easily." Wonwoo smirks, throwing a look your way before walking out of the storeroom. You slide down the wall, absolutely livid, the urge to punch something growing very intense.

Something like his face.

That goddamn infuriating man!

Maybe you should just get yourself off.

"And don't think about touching yourself without me. I'll know if you do and trust me, you don't wanna make me mad." His head pops back in as he opens the door to warn you before disappearing once again.

"Fuck!" You're screaming now. "Fuck you, Jeon Wonwoo!"

XIV.

Over time, you start to grow close to Wonwoo. Definitely closer than you'd expect to be with a person like him. It also doesn't help that you have a silly little crush on him and every little thing he does makes your heart flutter. Like the way he'd always put the helmet on you carefully before riding on his bike, brush your hair away from your face with soft fingers, and pull you closer to his body when you walk down a busy sidewalk.

Jeon Wonwoo was in no way boyfriend material but his little gestures, which he probably did thoughtlessly made you think he was the perfect man for you.

While things were going breezy with Wonwoo, a new problem seems to have appeared. Jacob Lee, a classmate of yours has been on your tail nonstop for the past few days, acting all friendly and touchy with you when in reality you've never spoken to him before, only seen him around the campus.

And speaking of the devil, he appears, just as you are finishing up your study session in the library one afternoon.

"_____!" His voice makes you sigh exasperatedly. "Hey! I was looking for you!"

You give him a fake smile and instead focus on packing your stuff, knowing Wonwoo will be here soon. He has asked you to stay overnight at his place for a class project but you doubt how much you'll be working on that project.

The thought of his hands all over you makes you embarrassingly excited.

"I sent you a friend request last night, didn't you see?"

Yes, and I'm not interested. You give me the creeps.

Which was the truth. You have heard a few rumors about Jacob, not good things for sure and the way he approaches you, invading your personal space like a bulldozer certainly makes you wary of him.

"Ah really? I'm not quite active these days. Projects and all, you know?" You try to avoid eye contact with him as he takes the seat right next to you, leaning much too close for your liking. "And...I don't really accept requests unless they're my close friends."

"Heyyy," he nudges your arm, a huge grin on his face. "How can we become close friends unless you accept my request?"

Oh god.

You sigh, internally rolling your eyes as you stand up and sling your bag over your shoulder. "You know, I'm in a hurry, actually. Wonwoo is waiting for me-"

"Is he your boyfriend?"

"What?" You blink, albeit stunned.

"Are you dating Wonwoo?" He asks, his tone sharp, as he stands up and steps closer to you, brows knotted in a frown.

Seriously, what is up with this guy?

"Why do you ask?" You question instead.

He rolls his eyes. Instead of answering you, he speaks, "He's a boring dude. If you really need a man you should let me—"

"Yes, she's dating me." Wonwoo interrupts all of a sudden. You spin around to find him standing behind you, a very annoyed look on his face as he glowers at Jacob. If looks could kill he'd be dead by now.

His hand wraps around your waist, tugging you next to his body and you can't help but swoon a little as you melt in his embrace. You rest your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent and sigh giddily.

The comfort and safety his arms provide are astounding.

"It doesn't really matter if you say I'm boring because she seems to find me interesting enough," Wonwoo says, his tone challenging, dark eyes focused on Jacob whose face now appears grim.

"Since we have established that she's mine," he emphasizes his words by tugging you even closer, "You should keep your hands to yourself and mind your business, hmm? Being nosy can get you hurt, you know."

Jacob's lips are pressed into a thin line as he glares at Wonwoo who ignores him and turns around, tugging you with him as you both walk out of the library.

As soon as you are outside, you step out of his arms and raise a brow at the man. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"That? You were like...staking your claim or something."

"I was. You're mine." He says simply.

Heat blooms throughout your face. Butterflies run wild in your stomach.

Damn.

"Whatever," you try to play it cool by rolling your eyes and pushing past him. Wonwoo, however, grabs your wrist and pulls you into his arms and whispers in your ear.

"You don't seem to agree, little cherry. Let's go home so that I can show just how much you are mine." His knuckles trail over your jaw, then down your neck before grabbing it, a predatory glint in his eyes.

You can't stop the satisfied grin from appearing on your face as you scream on the inside.

XV.

"Hey, I'm really sorry about the last day." A voice says from behind you and you turn around to find Jacob standing rather awkwardly.

You are going through your notes in the library when you are interrupted.

Raising a brow of confusion, you blink at him.

Jacob scratches his head. "Uh...I overstepped that day, you know. You're obviously a couple and I was trying to overstep my boundaries. I'm really sorry about that."

Well, that's a development.

"It's alright." You give him a small smile. "And thank you for apologizing."

"It's all good if you've accepted my apology." He smiles. "Also, I was hoping you could do me a favor?"

"Sure?" You say, not quite sure.

"You see, I'm having a bit of a problem with the latest assignment. Could you help me with that, please? Just take a look at my draft?" He chuckles nervously, as if ashamed. "After all, the professor did say that you had the best research paper among all of us."

Ah.

"Yeah, sure I can help you with that."

"Great! Thanks a lot, ____. Could you perhaps come with me to my car? My notes are in there. Just take a quick look and I'll let you be on your way."

You nod as you pack your belongings and follow him to the parking lot behind the library. Once you two are in front of your car, Jacob holds the door open for you, motioning you to get inside. You raise a confused brow at him.

There is a shift in him as he suddenly produces a knife from his pocket and holds it against your stomach. He grits in your ear, "Now be a good girl and get in the car, ______. Try to do anything to attract any attention and ill fucking gut you."

"Jacob, please-''

"Get in the fucking car, _____. And lock the door once you are inside."

Shaking, you do as you are told and watch him get inside the driver's seat.

"Why are you doing this?" You whisper.

"Why do you think, cherry?" He spits. His words dump a bucket of ice cold water all over you as you come to the realization.

He knows. He fucking knows. He knows your secret.

"That's right, _____." The smirk on his face is cruel. "I randomly came across your channel one night. Of course, I didn't know it was you at first. But after a little bit of observing and putting things together, it wasn't hard to figure you out. And my suspicions were fully confirmed when your nerd of a boyfriend found your identity and started blackmailing you."

Oh my god.

A small, devastated gasp leaves your lips, making Jacob laugh. "Yeah. I saw you two that evening. I know everything, little cherry. All your dirty little secrets. But what I hate is that you let him have you, calling that dumb guy your boyfriend and whatnot, but you won't give me a chance? That's not fair, baby."

"You fucking stalker! You son of a-"

"Shut up!" He booms, holding the knife right in front of your eye. "You're going to shut the fuck up and let me have all the fun tonight, hmm? You're a slut, _____. Reading filthy things, showing yourself off on the internet and now you're acting like a prude in front of me? I can't tolerate that baby, I need a taste of you."

Oh god. You're going to throw up.

In a moment's decision, you try to attack him, reaching for his face and poking him in the eye while scratching his cheek. A struggle ensues while you try to writhe and kick out of his grasp but he's stronger, effectively holding you.

"Just go to sleep, little bitch. I'll take good care of you." He snickers, making your heart drop.

Oh no no no...

He smacks you in the back of the head twice with the butt of his knife, making your vision go blurry and your head spin. Your last thought is that you are doomed now.

XVI.

The back of your head is throbbing when you wake up. It takes a good few moments to get your brain and eyes to function and when you are somewhat coherent, you realize your wrists are tied together behind you, as you remain in a half laid position. Your whole body feels sore and taut as if you've been thrown around roughly.

"Finally, you're awake baby." The dreadful voice speaks. You tilt your head, despite the pain, to look at Jacob who is looming over you, smiling, a sick kind of excitement dancing in his eyes.

Your throat which was already parched, goes even drier.

"You're fucking sick." You croak, a jolt of pain going through your ribs as you try to move your body.

A slap lands on your cheek from nowhere, forcing you to fall on your side as you whine in pain.

"I told you to shut the fuck up!" He's yelling. "Do you know how hard it was to carry your body all the way here? I had to put you in the trunk, for fucks sake!" He complains, making you roll your eyes. "It would all have been fine if you'd just shut up and complied with me!"

He then grabs you by your hair, forcing you to turn your head and look at him. "I had to wait for the last hour for you to gain consciousness, baby. Despite my thoughts, I just couldn't get hard when you were lying still."

He says those words with a mock pout as if that's the most unfortunate thing in the world and your blood boils. "Fuck you, dickhead. I doubt your thing gets hard at all."

That earns you another slap, and another, followed by a lot of screaming and cursing from him.

You tune them out, trying to conjure a way out of this hell. The first person you think of is Wonwoo and your heart starts to ache. His classes should be done by now. Is he looking for you? Is he worried? Given his possessiveness, he definitely should be looking for you by now.

You only wish you had your phone somewhere nearby.

You look around the place, trying to spot anything that may distract this sicko and aid you with your escape. Unfortunately, this feels like an abandoned building and the only thing lying around are pieces of wood, splinters and a few metal rods. Which would serve as a good weapon, only if your hands were untied.

An idea forms in your head.

"I need to pee." You grunt, making Jacob raise a brow.

"Well then, do it." He shrugs before smiling. "You'll need to take your pants off anyway for what I'm about to do to you. Want me to help you with them, baby?"

So that definitely backfired.

Jacob approaches you, hands reaching for the button on your jeans as you writhe in protest, trying to crawl away from him. Your sore ribs protest heavily but you struggle against his grip, which only tightens the harder you protest.

You are so fucked.

"The more you fight, the harder I get, baby." He snickers in your ears, making you want to throw up.

Jacob manages to unbutton your jeans and as he is pulling down your zipper, you land a kick on his shin, making him fall on his ass with a grunt. His eyes flash dangerously at you.

"Maybe I should tie your legs too, huh? Just let me take these jeans off."

"Get your hands off of her. Right. Now." There's a sudden voice.

You both turn your head to find Wonwoo, to your utter relief, standing there, a menacing look on his face as his eyes bore into Jacob.

"Let her go." His voice is quiet.

To others, it may sound flat but you know Wonwoo and you know the look in his eyes very well. A shiver rolls down your spine and you try once again to loosen the ropes tying your wrists. If you aren't free soon, things are gonna get messy.

"The big bad boyfriend is here to save the day, no?" Jacob scoffs, swaying the knife around in his hand. "Whatcha gonna do, boyfriend?"

"You wouldn't wanna know." Wonwoo gives him a cold smile that gives even you, goosebumps. You try to mediate the situation. "Jacob, please, listen to me. This doesn't have to be like this. Just let me go and we can pretend this never happened."

"Shut up, you whore! I'm getting a taste of you today and I don't care whether it's next to your boyfriend's rotting corpse!" He screeches, pointing the knife at you.

Mentally, you shake your head.

This really isn't gonna end well.

A grunt echo through the air and it takes a few seconds for your fuzzy brain to realize that Wonwoo has punched Jacob. The latter tumbles onto the floor, groaning loudly, "You fucking asshole! You broke my nose!"

Wonwoo's face remains blank as he repeatedly keeps kicking Jacob's torso, not even letting him get up. When he's gasping for air, he steps back to take a good look at him before walking to the side and picking up a metal rod.

In the meantime, Jacob manages to stand up on wobbly legs and his eyes widen when he sees Wonwoo pick up the weapon. "You fucking psychopath. You really wanna die today, huh?" He scoffs before charging toward Wonwoo, the knife in his hand aiming for his face. Wonwoo dodges it by leaning back and just as Jacob is passing by him, he grabs his other arm, twisting it roughly before clutching the hand holding the knife.

Jacob yells in pain but doesn't back down and there is a struggle as they both try to overpower each other. Amidst that, the knife in Jacob's hand manages to cut a thin line on Wonwoo's cheek, making him release Jacob and take a few steps back.

Jacob chuckles, his smile looking exceptionally evil as blood runs down his nose and coats his teeth. "I'm gonna have so much fun carving up your pretty face, nerd."

Wonwoo watches him with calculative eyes, a wry, slight smirk on his face as he tilts his head on both sides, popping the veins in his neck.

You watch with bated breath, knowing it's gonna get ugly and it does as Wonwoo charges for Jacob, hitting his head in the first strike with the metal bar. Jacob falls to his knees, cupping the side of his head as a gush of blood flows out. Before he can stand back up, Wonwoo hits him again and again and again, three more times on his head before his body slumps onto the ground, passed out.

But that doesn't make Wonwoo stop as he continues with two more hits and you start yelling. "Wonwoo, stop! Stop it! You're gonna kill him!"

He stops and his eyes meet yours. They are absolutely cold and empty, laced with an expression of that's-what-I-was-about-to-do and for a moment you think that he's gonna kill him right in front of you but he doesn't.

Surprising you, he drops the bar on the ground with a loud echo before calmly walking towards you and kneeling down to untie your wrists. You pant heavily, relieved and grateful as your eyes become teary when one of his hand cups your cheek tenderly, his eyes trained on the cut on your lips and the bruise on your cheek.

And to think that this man was being so violent seconds ago.

"Does it hurt badly?" He asks, eyes narrowing on your bruises. You immediately shake your head, not trusting your voice to speak.

You croak, "How did you find me?"

He scoffs. "Little cherry, you should have figured out by now how possessive I am of you." He tilts his head, giving you an isn't-that-obvious look. Yet, you're confused.

"You...you didn't actually put a—"

"Exactly," he smiles, almost proud. "I downloaded a tracker on your phone."

Holy shit. There's a lot to unpack but for now, you are totally grateful. So you just nod and clutch his arms tightly.

Your heart thumps loudly as the man wraps an arm around your waist, supporting you to stand up. The bruises on your body make it hard to do so but you manage with his help and gently he guides you out of the warehouse, picking up your scattered items lying in a corner and putting them in your bag before moving past Jacob's still body.

You turn your head back to observe if he's breathing and you notice the slow rise and fall of his chest, making you sigh in relief.

Wonwoo walks you both out of the compound before coming to a stop underneath a large banyan tree, right where he parked his bike.

"Call a taxi." He says as he hands you your bag. "Go to a hospital. I'll be there soon."

Your heart falls.

"W-what? W-where are you going?" You croak, hands immediately clutching the sleeves of his jacket. His hands gently hold you by the arm, a stark contrast to the look on his face, malicious, ruthless. "You don't leave loose ends, baby."

You almost choke on your saliva.

"Wha-what? No! You-"

His lips press against yours, effectively silencing you. One of his hand cups your cheek while the other laces around your waist, pulling your body next to his. Blindly you follow his lead, wrapping your arms around his neck as your tongue intertwines with his into a passionate kiss. It tastes like temptation, lust and a little bit metallic— from the blood on your lips and even though in the back of your mind you know how wrong this is, it feels like the most right thing of all time.

A while later Wonwoo pulls back as the haze of lust disappears from his eyes, replaced with seriousness.

"Do as you're told, ____. This isn't a request."

It isn't. It's a command.

Yet, as he turns around to head back into the warehouse, you cannot bring yourself to call a taxi. But you also cannot muster up to follow him back inside and watch him finish the job.

Blissful ignorance, as they like to call it.

Besides, there is no crime if there is no witness.

You try to tell yourself that you're staying in case Jacob manages to run away or worse, hurt Wonwoo or in case somebody comes around here.

So you make yourself comfortable underneath the tree and take a seat, even though your sore body protests in pain.

Seconds turn to minutes as they fly by and just like that half an hour is gone. The sky is now overcast with thick clouds, indicating an impending downpour that makes you worry.

There is no sign of Wonwoo yet.

When the first few drops of rain hit the ground, you manage to get yourself up after a little struggle and despite your ribs protesting, you start to take small steps towards the building.

Something must have gone wrong.

But you don't have to go too far because you see a tall figure approaching you from the other end and you realize it's Wonwoo. Your breath stutters as you stay still in your spot, waiting for him to take notice of you and come to you. He seems to be walking while in deep thought as his focus remains on the ground so you call for him.

"Wonwoo!"

His head snaps up as he regards you with wide eyes, standing still for a moment. Then he's running towards you, stepping on little puddles along the way.

"What are you still doing here!" His tone is sharp but you ignore it. Instead, your eyes scan his body for any injuries. He seems to appear fine— disheveled really, but still fine. There is a new cut on his forehead and there are specks of blood all over his face, neck and hands, especially his hands which are completely wet and coated in crimson.

You highly doubt it's his own blood. Still, your hands reach out for him and you find yourself asking, "Are you okay?"

Wonwoo glares at you. "You should have gone to a hospital by now, ____. You're hurt." You shake your head and instead cup his cheek, thumb brushing away the little specks of blood that are yet to wash away despite the pouring rain.

His eyes visibly soften as he sighs and shrugs off his jacket and puts it over your shoulders.

"You're gonna catch a cold." He whispers as his arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling your body next to him.

"J-Jacob?" You whisper.

His eyes go empty for a few seconds before he gives you a small, evil smile, "I took care of him."

Your heart falls and you swallow, the gravity of the situation dawning on you.

"B-but the body-"

"Lot of wolves in that forest.'' He says, indicating the woods right behind the building. ''They'll finish the body."

He smirks, giving you a look. "I believe Jacob came here drunk and passed out and the wolves took him." He pins you down with a look that makes you shudder.

You're now an accomplice to murder.

Gripping your chin with his thumb and index finger, he tilts your head up. "Hey. Nobody will know...unless you tell them."

That's right. Nobody will know.

With a jerky nod, your eyes meet his and even though your limbs are sore, you lean on your tippy toes and pull his lips onto yours by cupping his cheeks. His lips taste like rain and blood, full of danger but oh so tempting. Your tongues dance in a haze of fiery lust and passion and by the time you two separate, you're a little dizzy.

You should really get to the hospital.

"I won't tell anyone," you whisper, stroking the nape of his neck.

"Because I have nothing to tell. Jacob got eaten by the wolves. It was just an accident, after all." You state, surprised at how calm you are.

A grin spreads across Wonwoo's face, evil, satisfied and proud. You can't also help but smile a little as he captures your lips for a quick kiss before murmuring, "You're perfect, you know that little cherry?"

You swoon. "Maybe you can remind me when we are home. After taking a trip to the hospital, of course."

"Let's go." He holds out his hand and you take it as you both walk to his bike. Blood still stains his fingertips but you don't care as they transfer on your hands too. Instead, you let him slowly guide you away from the building, from that sick asshole who isn't breathing anymore, thankfully.

When you look down your hands entangled with his, a sense of odd comfort settles over you.

Sure, this man is completely unhinged and dangerous but he's also perfect.

Perfect for you.

You're both a little unhinged and that's fine.

What matters is that you are safe now. With him.

Smiling in contentment, you bring your intertwined hands up to your lips and press a kiss on his bruised knuckles.

You are bloody, yet safe.

a/n: and hence, I chose the name Bloodily Safe! I know it isn't that good but istg I couldn't think of anything else😭. this is, undoubtedly, the darkest fic I've written yet and somewhere in the middle I started questioning whether it'd be a good idea to release this. but the urge to share psycho Wonwoo with y'all won in the end lol. I blame pledis for this, we need an actor Wonwoo in a villain role immediately!!! I've left it as an open ending so I'm here to announce that yes, I am planning on writing another part of this, something like an extended epilogue where we focus more on Wonwoo. their feelings for each other also remain vague here and I've kept it so purposefully. it's up to each of your own interpretation. if you'd like to hear mine, do send an ask. I'm all ready to analyze and discuss our fav psycho wonwoo. also, I've yet to proofread this thoroughly so there might be some errors. that's it from me for now, thank you for taking the time to read this! have a lovely day!

taglist: @exocommunicado-03 @becauseiloveyunho @seyoungparkk @shuabby1994 @reol-0 @therewillalwaysbearainbow @sdoulc @nadiaarzu @dinosolecito @sweetiepiezz @vernonmabae @jejuboo-s @fairy-jojo @babystarcandykookie @kawaiimusiccollection @read2lips @yunhokami @knife-scream @just-here-to-read-01 @unwanted-15 @bldelaine @sysymei @joonsytip @freakinthesheesh @moonfloweronmars @simpinghrs @unicxrnblood @manamiyx @tara-drabbles

#seventeen #seventeen smut #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo smut #kpop smut #svt imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen angst

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angelnthsnow · 4 months

Text

The Party & The After Party

pairing: toto wolff x f!driver!reader

summary: after winning your first formula one race in your first year in the category, you don't think the day can get any better. fortunately, your boss has other plans for the night.

word count: 3.9k

warnings: age gap? it's never mentioned but it's there obvi, boss x employee, use of y/n, cursing.

author's note: i must say my friends have gotten me into formula one, but it's kinda hard paying attention to the cars when this man exists. i wrote this nonstop in the middle of the night, it's shorter than usual but i couldn't get the idea out of my head, so enjoy! i promise i'll post smth nfl related soon lol k bye!!

In your first year as the first female F1 driver, you had done the impossible. Standing on the 1st place of the Monaco Grand Prix podium, adrenaline pumping through your veins, you looked down at everyone who had ever doubted you. Years of resisting attacks, sexist remarks and the constant need to prove yourself, you felt like you could finally breathe. By your side, stood two of the greatest drivers the sport had ever seen, Lewis Hamilton, your teammate, in P2, and Max Verstappen, in P3.

Your eyes wandered through the vast crowd that chanted your name from below, searching for the man who had made it all possible, your boss, Torger Wolff, the first person who took you seriously. Being a woman with hopes of getting into Formula One was exhaustingly hard, but everything started to change when you won the F3 Championship, a few years ago.

Paul, your teammate at the time, had told you that a certain team principal would come to the race that day, and although you kept telling yourself to not get your hopes up, every single attempt to do so went downhill when you saw the Mercedes team principal walking through the paddock like he owned the place.

To you, Mercedes was everything. Besides being one of the most modern teams, you also realized soon enough that Toto was probably the most open-minded out of all the other TPs on the grid. It was sad, of course, having such a little percentage of people who would be happy to see a woman in a position that was so dominated by men, but still, it lit up a flame in your chest, a string of hope you clung onto whenever you felt like giving up your dream.

That day, with him on the bleachers as you drove fearlessly around Spa-Francorchamps, you won the F3 championship, putting you on a watchlist of drivers that could get into F2.

Ever since that day, the austrian had kept an eye on you.

He saw how fiercely you fought to have a place, to have a voice and to be heard in a space ever so dominated by the opposite sex, and it didn't scare him, not one bit, he admired it. When you stood on that podium earlier, he didn't even bother hiding a smile, taking pictures and videos and chanting your name with the rest of the team as Lewis and Max sprayed the ridiculously expensive champagne on your back as you laughed.

That's why today, hours after winning your first ever F1 race on your first year in the category, he still couldn't get off the high he was on. He had finally gotten the confirmation he so desperately needed, not because he didn't believe you could do it, but because he was eager to prove everyone else wrong, to rip the smugness out of every single man who told you you didn't belong there.

At least that's what he had told you earlier through the radio before the lights went out, prove them wrong. He just didn't know you fought to reprimand a sob as you tried to concentrate in the lights that stood just above the Albert 1st Boulevard.

Now, Toto's eyes scanned every single corner of Jimmy'z searching for you, only to find you on the dance floor, pornstar martini in hand as you swayed to the beats of Empire of The Sun's We Are The People.

You had a smile on your face that could lit up a whole room, and he couldn't be prouder. Soon enough, your eyes met his and you chuckled, making a peace sign to point at your eyes and then at his as the line got lost in your eyes blasted through the club's speakers.

Even at distance, you could see him rolling his eyes and chuckling at your playful gesture, but still, he came closer, until the only thing in his field of vision was the visibly drunk version of you.

"You look happy." he leans down and forward to yell in your ear, making himself heard even if though the loud music made it hard to.

You squirm at the proximity, but brush it off by taking another sip of your drink. "I'm on top of the world, Toto. I don't think I've ever been happier." You yell back and he resists the urge to fight back a smile, presenting you with his pearly whites.

As one of the neon lights hit your face, he's forced to take in all of you. The version of you you'd put up whenever he'd tell you he had an important meeting he needed you to attend, or whenever you were needed to put up a show, like today.

You wore a black strapless dress, the one you'd seen a few weeks prior to the Grand Prix at Elie Saab's display window while you were on your daily night walk through Monaco. It was mesmerizing, with a shimmery type of fabric that would definitely make sparks fly if a bright light shined over it. You had thought of buying it, for days, really, but decided against it because party dresses were never a much needed piece of clothing in your wardrobe. Well, that until you told Lewis about the dress, and when you arrived at your apartment a few hours after the race, there it was, on a hanger hanging on the curtain rods.

As much as your looks prevented Toto from thinking about anything else, he couldn't help but notice how huge your pupils were, so big that it felt like your iris' were long gone. That and the fact that your sclera had shifted from white to a more reddish color.

He shifted on his feet, unaware of how to proceed. Were you.. high? Was that even a thing between sportspersons? Deciding on it being a matter that shouldn't be handled in front of the city's most congested place as of today, he mutters a "come with me" in your ear, putting a hand on your lower back as he guided you away from the crowd.

When he finally stops, you find yourself in a more private, smaller room with a few sofas and armchairs. He then proceeds to ask you "You've taken something. What is it?"

You laugh at his sudden concern. The answer was clearly a big red yes written in all caps, but part of you couldn't help but feel slightly ashamed at yourself. You had done it, yes, but now you felt sort of guilty, because the last thing you wanted was to damage his or the team's image. You shake your head, trying to to keep those thoughts away. It was just a party, a party for you, with only selected people being allowed in, it wasn't like you'd wake up to your name on the news.

"Come ooon.. don't be such a party pooper!" You slurred.

Toto was shocked by your reaction, part of him wanted you to celebrate as you wished, after all, you had just fulfilled a dream, but the other part, the responsible boss part craved an explanation, he didn't want you to cause any harm to your already fragile media image.

"Are you serious? You're the star of the entire team today! We have thrown a party just for you and you're getting off on drugs?" He says, lowering his voice on the last word as he crosses his arm.

"It's just a blunt, Toto. I swear I'm fine." Your laugh echoes throughout the small room as you grab his big arms, uncrossing them. "Don't get so serious on me." You look up at him through your lashes.

Toto gives you a stern look before a smirk creeps up on his face. The anger and seriousness fades away in an instant as he realizes the situation wasn't that serious. He sighs and looks at you with a sly, yet curious look. "How many? One, right?"

"Just one, sir." You say mischievously, holding your pinky finger up before kissing it to symbolize a promise.

Toto is taken aback as you kiss your pinky finger in a sarcastic manner, although he doesn't say anything. He looks at you with the same sly look as before. "I see... and have you done this before?"

"Who hasn't, duh?" You furrow your brows, flashing him a backward smile.

'He hasn't, of course. That's Torger Wolff we're talking about' you think to yourself as you look up at him. The soreness of your muscles and the pain of being on your feet for so long getting to you.

Sometimes it was kind of annoying having a conversation with your boss due to the fact that you had to look up the entire time, and countless were the times you found yourself with neck pain after hours of chatting. This conversation would surely be added to that imaginary countless list of yours, because even today, with high heels that could make you look six feet tall, he still looked way too big.

Toto chuckles before getting a playful look on his face. "Oh, really? I highly doubt the star of my F1 team has ever smoked a blunt before, although you do seem very knowledgeable about this." He moves closer to you, looking down at you as he speaks, his voice low and husky. You wondered if his neck ever went through the same problem yours did when you two talked, causing you to chuckle.

"I do?" You lift one eyebrow, narrowing your eyes. "Well, I must say.. the star of your precious F1 Team has done a lot, Mr. Wolff." It comes off more flirtatious than you intended, but you pay no mind to it. You try to take a step back, but end up slipping on the hem of your gown, the high getting to you later than ever.

Toto immediately rushes to you and catches you mid-air, wrapping his arms around your torso.

"Is that so?" Toto says, his voice now raspy and face close to yours.

You exhale deeply, relief from not having made an absolute mess out of yourself filling your body. If you had fallen, your dress would probably be completely torn apart and headlines would have a field trip with it.

He is still holding you, his hands burning on your back.

"Yeah.." You close your eyes, getting away from Toto's embrace as you regain balance and straighten yourself.

Toto steps back as you do so, although he does want to reach out to hold you again. Instead, he settles for engaging on more double entendre conversations with you.

His eyes are full of admiration, your body is more visible in this dress than it has ever been, and he makes a mental note to thank Lewis for the gift. He recalls the moment you two shared a few minutes ago, the way you swayed and jumped with the music like you were the only person in that dance floor would never fail to amaze him.

"You truly do look like a notorious celebrity in this dress, don't you?" He finally says, a hint of shyness in his tone, although the look in his face is stern.

"You could thank your other driver for that." You joke, trying to hide the butterflies that swarmed in your stomach.

"I certainly will." he smiles, his gaze softening as his eyes meet yours. They're still red, but it starts to grow on him.

Looking at you like this, completely wasted, happy and carefree, he couldn't help but remember the afternoon you two had met, when he started to be so sure you'd be by his and Lewis' side on a race weekend one day.

Now, there you were, in front of him, with a trophy standing somewhere back in your apartment. "I'm so proud of you." he finally says, not because he thinks you should hear it, but because it's all he wants to say to you after today's events.

You look away from him shyly. You had heard it before, specially from him, but every single time felt like fireworks in your belly. Him being proud of you was capable of putting you on a whole another level, it was just another signal that you had made it, that you had proved you were capable, even to those who were always so sure you definitely were.

You try to hide a smile as you mutter a simple thank you, because in this state, visibly high and drunk, staring at the man who had made it all possible, it's all you manage to say.

He smiles back at you, and your mind almost short circuits when he steps closer, not stopping even when you can feel his breath close to your face. That's when you realize he's about to hug you, and you just let him.

It's genuine, simple yet abnormally meaningful. His big hands rest crossed on your lower back as he pulls you closer, making your cheeks rest on his suit covered chest. You almost feel like crying, because how could you not? You had it all now, a place in the sport you so desperately craved to have since you were a kid, a win, an amazing teammate and an even more amazing boss, who believed in you through your entire career.

"You've done it." He says quietly as if you're a wild animal that would run away at any abrupt movement or sound. "I can't even imagine how you feel."

On cloud nine, that was the most appropriate answer.

"It's like nothing I've ever felt." you say, arms hugging his chest. "Thank you for always believing in me, you have no idea how much you've done for me." you sniff, clearly on the verge of tears.

"It's nothing compared to what you deserve. You're one of the greats, Y/N. The whole world's gonna know you name." he says, causing the tears you so eagerly fought to keep off to fall rapidly on your cheeks. You sniff, opening your eyes to see that a small wet circle had formed on Toto's shirt.

"Shit, sorry." You laugh awkwardly as you take a step back, desperately trying to dry your tears with your fingers before they ruined your makeup too.

"Hey, it's fine." He steps closer again, bringing his thumb to your face as he continues your job of drying the tears you had shed. Once he's done, his hands linger there for a bit longer than they needed to, stroking your cheeks. You thank the Gods for whatever the hell he was on today. "You do look pretty when you cry, though I must say I prefer the way you look on top of a podium, with champagne drenched hair and a first place trophy in hand."

You roll your eyes, as if it was possible to fall even more in love with him. It had become stupid at this point, really. Clearly the two of you had something special, to say the least, going on, but none of you were courageous enough to come clean about this.

"You aren't a bad view from up there as well." You shoot back, earning a smile in return.

The shameless and obvious flirtation to whoever watched from outside continued for a few minutes, until Toto insisted that you should go back to your party, and although at this point you had decided to give up the celebrations to look at him for the rest of night, there he was, once again with his hand on your lower back, guiding you through the crowd back to where he initially had seen you. Doesn't take long for you to get lost in the music, dancing like there was no tomorrow. Toto had excused himself to greet other team members and sponsors, fulfilling the ultimate boss role even at parties, and stealing glances from you every now and then while talking to someone.

A few drinks later, the club was getting more empty by the minute, the clock almost hitting 4:30 a.m. Your makeup was already lightly smudged, your black Louboutins long gone in the corner you once laughed with your friends. As you thanked the remaining people for coming, Toto showed up again, startling you as he came from behind, putting his right hand in your shoulder.

"Seems like the party has reached an end." he says, making you look up at him. His face was fairly red, and by the way he slurred his words, you could tell he was somewhat drunk. His hair was messier than earlier and the tie that was once a fancy bow was now untied, resting around his neck, a nice combination to his slightly unbuttoned shirt.

"Unfortunately. I hope you had fun, though." you reply, turning your attention to shake some of your guests' hands.

"It's always fun with you around." He says as he smiles to the same people shaking your hands.

You crookedly smile, turning around to walk to your table. As you do so, he follows.

"Do you need a ride? I saw you coming in with Bradley, but he already left," He watches you as you walk through the empty club, employees cleaning the floor of what was once the party of a lifetime. "guess parties aren't really his thing." He chuckles.

"I don't wanna make you take me home now, it's late and you're probably very tired."

"Oh, please, it's Monaco. Not like I'm going to be driving for hours." He replies, earning you a laugh. You and Toto lived pretty close to each other, but you'd drive past his building before getting to yours, so you truly didn't want him to make a huge detour just because of you.

"Fine," you smile, grabbing your sparkly clutch. "just please tell me you came with your 300sl roadster." You say and he chortles, rolling his eyes.

The Mercedes 300SL Roadster owned by Toto was probably one of your favorite cars in his collection. Hell, in anyone's collection. It's such an incredibly classy vehicle you couldn't resist its charm.

"I did." He says, and you let out a slightly loud yes! as he grabs your scarpins, laughing at your reaction. The way the smallest things were capable of making you happy always made him smile. Even after closing a multi-millionaire deal with your team, some things would never fail to make you excited, such as being driven home in a car you've always wanted.

The both of you start to walk towards Jimmy'z's exit in a different sort of haze, like the two of you were in your own little world together, laughing and exchanging inside jokes. The dry warm Monaco summer air hits you as soon as you step out, and soon the vallet comes driving Toto's car, opening the door for you to get in.

As the both of you get in, he starts driving, the sound of the car's engine echoing throughout Princesse Grace Avenue. Duke Dumont's Ocean Drive in the radio as your hair flies due to the speed in which Toto's driving. Now and then, he casually glances at you, smiling at the way you still manage to dance even when sitting on the passenger's seat.

Despite being a race weekend, the city seemed awfully quiet and empty at this time. Soon enough, he takes a turn and you're finally in Larvotto, which meant in a few seconds he'd be pulling up at your home. However, before he had the chance to, you saw the sun rising in distance, its warm light gleaming in the sea water.

"Toto, look!" you point to the horizon, and he slows the car down to follow your gaze. "It's so beautiful.."

"Indeed it is.." he says, and you can tell by his tone he's got a change of plans coming. When you realize, he's parking the car in the shore, exiting the vehicle to open the door for you. "Come on, let me give you a real after party."

You smile, because there was no way the day could get any better. You were sure you'd wake up later convincing yourself this had been a dream. Taking your hand, he pulls you out of the car, and after you close the door, he runs towards the sea, fingers intertwined with yours.

In this moment, you force yourself to forget about all of the implications and concerns that could come at you. In this moment, it was just you and Toto, not a Mercedes driver and the Mercedes' Team Principal. To anyone else who'd catch a glimpse of the scene, the both of you looked like stupid, reckless teenagers in love.

Sitting on the sand, you try to catch your breath, stomach hurting due to you not being able to stop laughing. You lay your head on his broad shoulders, hands holding his arm.

Suddenly, he feels the need to confess, "I'm always so happy when I'm around you" with the german accent getting heavier as it always did when he was drunk.

You smile, "Me too."

A beat, and then, "You're the most amazing woman I've ever known."

It comes lower than he intends to, but he's also never felt so nervous around someone as he does now. You thank the heavens for the fact that he's not looking at you, you look like a kid stupidly in love.

"You don't need to say that," you sigh. "you've already told me you're proud of me for today."

"I know. I'm not saying it because I feel the need for it to be said, but because I truly think that." he replies. "Ever since that day in Spa, you've proven to be an extremely fierce, fearless, wonderful driver and an even more amazing woman." You roll your eyes at his compliments. "I mean it, Y/N." He grabs your attention just by saying your name, making it all even more real. "Mercedes is extremely lucky to have you, and so am I." he looks at you, his face closer than ever as yours rest on his shoulder.

"You have me?" You say, looking at him through your lashes.

"I like to think I do. Do I?"

"Utterly." You giggle, your eyes glowing just by looking at him.

His hands go to cup your face, and the last thing you'd expect from him happens. At first, his lips brush over yours lightly, as if he's asking for permission, testing the waters to see if he's allowed to go further. When you don't protest, he deepens the kiss, sweeping you off your feet.

The both of you laugh, and you hide your now completely red face in his chest. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this." you say, feeling his body hairs stand on end.

"You have no idea how long I've waited to do this." he says, and you shed a tear on his partially shirt covered chest. "Are you crying?" He asks, and when he hears you sniff, he takes it as a yes. "Hey, don't cry. Look." he lifts your chin up, making you stare at the scene unfolding in front of your eyes.

The sunrise looked like a piece of art, with pinkish and yellow tones coloring the sky. Toto puts an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. You could now add having him at your list as well.

#toto wolff #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x you #toto wolff x y/n #formula one #formula 1 #f1 #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #fanfic #alternative universe

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