Pairing: Sim Jaeyun × fem!reader
Summary: You met in school, became high-school sweethearts, moved back to Korea to attend college, got married, and now... now it's time to start a family, right? right! Well... just one thing: no one said it would be easy.
Genre: fluff, low-budget comedy, cliché, slight angst.
Note: Hello, happy new year!!! It has been a long time since my last update here... This is a project I wanted to post a very, very long time ago, but my real life ended up kicking my ass, and I had little to no time to write. Taglist opened!
baby, say the word and i’ll be yours
/// keshi, say
pairing: yeonjun x fem!reader
summary: it takes a long time to fully explore the thin line between love and hate. but seven minutes is a good start.
genre: academic rival!yeonjun / college au / enemies to lovers au / fake dating au
warnings: slow burn, mutual PINING, strong language, angst, terrible parents, some suggestive themes, fluff and flirting bc they are battling to see which of them is more insane, mentions of drunk driving & a car accident (no one gets hurt)
words: 13k
masterlist / read from the beginning
✦ • ─── MARCH 5, 2025. 7:30 PM (DAY 8)
When Yeonjun parked outside your building, your light was on.
The warm glow from your window quickened his pulse more efficiently than climbing five flights of stairs (though the stairs did their best to finish him off anyway).
He paused outside your door, clutching the freesias as if they were contraband and he was no longer confident he could smuggle them in. The paper felt damp in his sweaty palms. The cartoon cat on your doormat offered him two raised middle fingers instead of moral support.
His knuckles grazed the wood, not daring to knock, as he contemplated his future:
You might hurl the flowers back at him and slam the door in his face.
Or you might not. That would mean he’d have to come up with real words.
You might also—
The door opened before he could compose himself.
“Oh.” He lurched back a step, eyes snapping to yours. “Hi.”
“Hi,” you said. “Thought I heard someone.”
His breath hitched.
You had to have been standing close enough to the door to hear him, then. Had to have been waiting.
Or, he mentally kicked himself, you’d just happened to be near, and he was inventing meanings.
“Yeah,” he said weakly. “Was about to knock, but then, um—figured I needed a plan first.”
“Did you come up with one?”
“No.”
You nodded and crossed your arms. He should’ve had enough time, you figured, to find what to say. This was obviously not quantum physics. It was him and his ex-girlfriend.
Yeonjun thought finding words should’ve been easier, too.
Then his disobedient gaze wandered down your oversized hoodie, your dark joggers, your ridiculously fluffy slippers. You looked very warm. That promptly wiped every remaining thought from his mind.
“I-I’m sorry,” he finally managed.
Your brows lifted. “For not knocking?”
He dragged his eyes back to yours. “For letting you think Amy and I were getting back together. We’re not.”
You shuffled your feet, the slippers brushing against each other.
“But you’re talking,” you said. “I don’t want to get in the way of—”
“We’re not talking because we want to be together.”
The corridor light, offended by his lingering, snapped off. Only the amber glow from your flat lit his face, softening the sharp angles, deepening the shadows.
Your gaze fell to the floor tiles. “Why, then?”
“It—I—” He glanced around the sudden darkness. The motion sensor, startled into repentance, switched the lights back on. He seemed smaller under the bright glare. “Can I come in?”
A breath of hesitation passed between you in the corridor.
Reina was still with Soobin; she likely wouldn’t be back for hours. Even your phone was silent now that Beomgyu and Nara—the ones who usually spammed the group chat—were alone together at his film night.
It felt, somehow, like it was just you and Yeonjun left.
You stepped aside. “Yeah.”
He crossed the threshold, acutely aware of the symbolism of you allowing him inside. This was, clearly, not a punch in the face. It felt promising.
“Oh—” He turned as you shut the door, extending the bouquet. “For you.”
You stared at the freesias for three long seconds, teeth gritted, then finally accepted them.
“Come to the kitchen for a second?” you said, gesturing down the corridor, no discernible look on your face.
Wary, he followed.
So it’d be a punch in the face, after all, then. In your kitchen, for some reason, maybe because the knives were close—
He nearly tripped over his feet.
Your kitchen was a violent riot of colours: every vase, jar, and any remotely waterproof container was stuffed with freesias. Tiny petals littered the counters like confetti after a concert. He couldn’t see the floor.
“Oh,” he breathed.
“Yeah,” you said, pursing your lips. “So, um—thank you. But maybe you should stop now.”
Yeonjun, of course, had no intention of stopping. He thought you could still squeeze a few bouquets on top of the fridge. Possibly the microwave if you weren’t using it. He even eyed the oven suspiciously.
Politely keeping his suggestions to himself, he returned to the corridor to slip off his jacket and shoes, and caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. He raked a hand through his windswept hair, hoping to look less like he’d had a confrontation with an electrical socket.
You stuffed the freesias into a few empty water bottles, then returned to find him.
“Let’s go to my room,” you said.
He managed a nod and followed after you.
Your room felt larger this time, which, he knew, was impossible. It was clearly still the size of a generous wardrobe, made all the worse by the obscene number of flowers. You set the bottles with the freesias on the stack of books on your desk, balancing them against the wall.
Yeonjun sat on the edge of your bed. You hesitated, then perched on the other edge.
It was a laughably tiny bed. And yet, he felt as though half the campus could’ve fit in the vast distance between the two of you.
For a minute, you sat in silence. His fingers flexed on the duvet. The radiators hummed behind him.
He couldn’t take it any longer.
“Okay,” he said. The word rippled through your room. Startled by the volume, he cleared his throat and continued, softer. “So, uh, my parents—they invited Amy for dinner. Apparently, the very second I said I’d be coming.”
He paused, looking at you like he needed your permission to continue.
“Right,” you said, tucking your foot beneath you.
“And that was because—well.” He dragged his thumb along his eyebrow. “Actually, maybe I’ll start from the beginning. So, uh—you know my parents don’t get along, yeah? That hasn’t changed.”
You nodded, watching his knee bounce.
“But, oddly enough,” he said, “they bonded after Amy and I broke up. Um—united in their disappointment, I suppose. They were dead against it.”
“Why?”
“In short, they thought she was from a respectable family, and it was such a loss.” He frowned, fingers tugging on his sleeves. “But really, I think Dad had… other plans. Back when Amy and I were dating, he pitched this business idea to her parents. Some real estate thing: holiday homes, retreats. He showed me a brochure once, and it had these all-white glass buildings. Looked like teeth. Anyway, then we broke up, and the whole thing collapsed.”
You thought about that for a moment. “So… they’re disappointed you’ve lost Amy, and tanked their business venture at the same time?”
He leaned back until his head hit the wall with a dull thud. “Don’t think they care about Amy at all, actually. Think they only care about what her family brings to the table. Her dad used to work in Foreign Relations, some consul or diplomat. In Rome—or Milan. Anyway. He’s an investor now, started his own firm. So, you know. Useful. Gives us some shine, too.”
Humming, you tried to picture growing up with parents who treated you like a stepping stone towards more recognition. More respect. More wealth.
“Your relationship is another business deal for them,” you concluded, brushing an absentminded hand over the freesias nearest to your bed.
“Essentially, yeah.”
A siren wailed outside the window, the echo hurrying down the street.
You watched Yeonjun’s face while he stared at the floor, gaze snagging on the hickey on his neck. You looked away before your memories could catch up.
“Before Amy,” Yeonjun said after a minute, “there was another girl. Our neighbour. I’d never said one word to her. I was—honestly, I was sort of terrified of girls until I was about fifteen. So I just—”
“Okay, no.” You raised a hand, cutting him off. “Sell me anything you want, but I’m not going to believe that.”
His lips stretched into a sheepish smile. “Yeah. Your freebie, love. Go on, laugh.”
“I won’t,” you said, though your expression wavered on the edge of humour. “I just don’t believe you.”
“Well, it’s true.” He dragged a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his eyes. “I thought she was very pretty, but if I tried to talk to her, I was convinced I’d swallow my tongue. Never even told her my name. She called me Glasses at first.”
You perked up again. “You wore glasses?”
“Yeah.” He huffed a soft laugh. “Mum thought they helped me look smarter. I thought they just helped me look.”
You snorted before you could stop yourself. “You sure she called you Glasses and not Tragic Dad Jokes?”
He scoffed. “I am sure. My jokes are not tragic.”
“What happened next?”
Slowly, he turned away, folding his hands over his stomach.
“Well, uh, one day,” he said, “Mum invited that girl, her parents, and her older brother for dinner. I was nine, for context. Mum said, ‘this is Bia; she’s about your age. M’sure you’ll get along.’ Bia was thirteen. Her brother sixteen. The three of us had about as much in common as a shoe and an orange.”
You scratched your cheek, covering up your amusement with your sleeve. “So, how’d that go?”
“Very well, I think,” he deadpanned. You pressed your lips tighter. “I didn’t say a word all dinner and played with my peas. After they left, Mum sat me down on the patio and said, ‘Bia’s parents are very important people.’ I said, ‘okay.’ Then she said, ‘and isn’t she pretty?’, which is my mum’s way of suggesting I proposed.”
You raised your eyebrows as a sliver of reluctant sympathy unfurled in your chest.
“Your mum was pimping you out?” you asked.
“Think so.”
“What did you do?”
“Well, I was nine,” he said. “Went upstairs and played COD.”
Your smile finally slipped free. His shoulders eased against the wall, but his expression remained tense.
“I never spoke to Bia again,” he said. “Luckily, she started seeing someone—another diplomat’s kid—so my parents had to drop the idea. And, uh, for a while, things were fine.”
“And then Amy?”
He ran his fingers over the soft grey duvet beneath you. “And then Amy.”
Silence spread over the room, gentle but waiting. You felt it on your skin.
“I-I honestly don’t know where to start,” he said.
You exhaled, trying to decide if you even wanted to know the rest, or if you preferred to live with your assumptions: he’d get Amy back, placate his parents, restore their business dreams.
Really, this felt very safe. Your assumptions couldn’t surprise you. They were very familiar in their discomfort.
But then, perhaps, you had enough room in your chest to be surprised.
Hesitantly, you leaned your shoulder against the wall. “How’d you meet?”
His fingers tapped against the duvet, drumming the tempo of a memory that didn’t want to come back to him.
“Here,” he said. “Second semester of second year, I think. My parents had mentioned her before, but we’d never actually met. And then, uh… Beomgyu and I got into some trouble.”
You struggled to identify the exact moment he was talking about. He and Beomgyu got into a lot of trouble.
“We had a crash during a race,” he explained. “Massive. My Nissan had been wheezing half the drive, so I ditched it and hopped in as Gyu’s navigator. And—yeah. We were laughing about something, got distracted. Hit a fence, ploughed straight through someone’s greenhouse. Had a cucumber on the dash. It was carnage.”
He snickered, then swallowed at the sight of your widening eyes.
“Right, well, obviously, we were properly banged up,” he said. “So when the owners called the police, we couldn’t exactly limp away and hide. And we were, we might’ve—well, drinking might’ve been involved. Not just a shot to warm up, either. Proper stuff. S’probably why we crashed in the first place. And then, uh, my parents showed up right as we were being escorted into the police car. They bailed me out. And—and left Beomgyu.”
The air strained around your bed, thin and tight. You moved your leg beneath you, trying to settle on the mattress.
“Before I even said anything,” he recalled, quieter, “my parents packed me up and started yelling. Said racing was juvenile. Cheap. Beneath me. They compared Beomgyu to Alain, because—well, you know.”
You lowered your gaze. You did know. Alain was expendable. The scapegoat of each one of Yeonjun’s missteps.
Someone had to take that role now that Alain was gone, and Beomgyu was a nice fit.
“Right,” you murmured.
“Right.” Yeonjun rubbed both hands over his face. “Think the shit they said back then still fucks with me, actually. I started wondering why I raced. Did I even like it? Was it because of Alain? Or was it just—I don’t know. Spite. A ‘fuck you’ to my parents.”
You swallowed. “Did you decide which it was?”
“No.” He let out a breath that pushed against his ribs like it wanted to escape more than he wanted to release it. “Doesn’t even matter, I guess. So, uh—anyway. Gyu was stuck. They booked him, planned to keep him overnight. He had no money to pay the fine, no one to call. And... shit. I mean, he was behind the wheel, yeah. But I was there, too. And yet he was the one paying for it, while I was fucking lounging in the back of my parents’ car. It was surreal.”
He paused, bringing his palm over the duvet.
It truly was Alain all over again, you realised: a car crash. Blurred responsibility. And Yeonjun, forced into a situation where he thought he couldn’t make a difference.
You wanted to say something, but figured it wasn’t your place to make belated suggestions.
“My parents,” Yeonjun added then, “saw an opportunity.”
The wind picked up again, battering against the windows, as though startled.
“Said if I wanted something for myself,” he went on, “I’d have to do something for them in return. I didn’t even ask what. Didn’t matter. I wanted to help Gyu. So, they took me home. Yelled some more, as a precaution. Then went to the station.” His voice dropped further. “Well, Gyu doesn’t have a record. All’s well.”
You inhaled slowly. “Hmm. Money talks.”
“Yeah.”
Resting your temple against the wall, you followed the movement of his fingers over the duvet.
“What’d your parents want from you, then?” you asked. “In exchange?”
“Well,” he said with a brittle smile, “Amy.”
You frowned. Then lifted your chin, the realisation cold against your spine.
“Yeah. The deal was, we’d go out sometime soon,” he said, twisting the ring on his index finger. “Apparently, Amy’s parents had already convinced her to do it, so it was only a question of when. And, uh, Gyu and I were fixing the fence we’d broken, right? My dad was foreseeing the whole thing. So, I called him one afternoon, after we were done with the paint, and he just said, ‘right, then, son.’ And that was my cue to go on that date. Amy, by the way, was interning for him at the time. She said he gave her the exact same briefing that morning. Didn’t call her son, of course, but, uh—”
He twisted one of the rings so tightly over the joint that the pain forced him to pause. Huffing, he pulled it back.
“Sorry.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway. So, we went on that date and ranted about our shit parents the whole time. And in the middle of that, we thought—well, wouldn’t it be convenient for us to tell them we decided to be together? I mean, s’what they want, yeah, but it might get us something out of it, too. A bit of ‘if you want me to stay in this relationship, let me do what I want.’ Giving them a taste of their own medicine, or whatever. So, uh… that’s what we did.”
Your stomach tightened as your thoughts surged ahead, struggling to fit it all into your mind.
Their relationship had been an instrument, then. A way to get more freedom.
A game.
“So, it was never real,” you said, throat dry.
A little thrown off by the cold conclusion, Yeonjun pulled at the corner of his eye.
“No,” he said. “Amy’s parents are actually even worse than mine, if you can imagine. They needed her to find someone, or they’d ship her off to a convent in Italy. She didn’t even need to crash any cars. Oh—and we were twenty, by the way. Clearly, washed-up old spinsters, both of us.”
The joke faltered when you didn’t smile. His shoulders slumped slightly.
He could tell you were thinking about what sort of cult he’d dragged you into with that bet. He was thinking about that, too.
“So, how long did you pretend you were together?” you asked.
He took a breath. “Couple of years, on and off, depending on which worked better for us at the time. And it was—well, in hindsight, it was ridiculous. At home, we played a perfect couple. Big smiles, holding hands. Date nights, while we actually sat on separate floors of the same restaurant. And then, back on campus, we didn’t even say hi to each other. Strictly business. We grew closer later, but, uh—only as friends.”
You debated your next question.
Technically, it didn’t matter to the story he was telling you. And still you couldn’t hold back.
“How come?” you said, pulling on the edge of the duvet, the material soft under your nails. “She seems nice from what I’ve heard. And, obviously, beautiful.”
Yeonjun preferred this question to your other ones. His smile returned, a little easier.
“I’m not her type,” he said. Your eyebrows rose. He took it as the greatest compliment you’d ever given him. “No, I know. Shocking.”
You scoffed.
“She is nice, though, yeah,” he added before you could say anything else. “But not my type, either.”
“Nice isn’t your type?”
“No.” He was openly grinning now. “Did you not hear about my relationship with my parents? I’m a classic. Only attracted to people who hate me.”
Your lips pursed. “Not many of those, then, seeing as you’re so charming.”
“Not many,” he agreed, holding your gaze. “But I was lucky enough to find one.”
Odd things started to happen after he said that. Your lungs no longer felt dependable. Heart behaved like it had just remembered it was terribly late for something.
The walls edged closer.
The ceiling dipped just a fraction.
“Amy eventually met someone else, didn’t she?” you said, adjusting your legs and pointedly avoiding his gaze. “Nara mentioned something before.”
Yeonjun had forgotten he’d been talking about Amy, and blinked, trying to locate his train of thought.
“Right—yeah. She did,” he said. “So that was that. Time for us to break up for good. Her parents didn’t really care, as long as she was with someone.”
“Hmm.”
He bit his lower lip, weighing something in his mind. You traced the curves of the wallpaper with your gaze.
“Amy and I, uh—we started talking again recently,” he said eventually. Your attention snapped back to him. “She broke up with the guy she’d been seeing, so our parents have been trying to force us into the same room again. You know, open season. She texted me a few weeks ago to complain about it. We joked a bit. That was all.”
Your shoulders stiffened against the wall. The half-sentences he’d given you in the women’s room clicked into a clearer shape.
“And then Monday night,” he continued, rubbing the back of his neck, “my mum, basically, tricked her into coming over. Said it was for tea, just the two of them, but had a three-course meal prepared.” He paused here, a sardonic smile on his lips. “I was, of course, the third meal.”
You didn’t smile. Blinking, he turned back ahead.
“So, uh, Amy sat down,” he said. “And my mum made a toast. Said she’d heard from some friends that I’d been out in town with a girl. At Linguini’s.”
He caught your expression the moment your eyes widened.
“Yeah,” he said. “Mum assumed it was Amy. Assumed we were back on, just weren’t ready to tell her yet. She thought this dinner would be the perfect occasion for that.”
You realised, coughing to ease the air back into your lungs, that the whispers about you and Yeonjun had climbed high enough to reach the stratosphere of his mother’s social circle.
A part of you wondered whether Yeonjun had wanted that. Wondered if he’d thought of using your bet the same way he’d used his relationship with Amy.
“Amy obviously knew she wasn’t with me at Linguini’s,” he said, linking his fingers on his stomach. “But she was being held hostage at this dinner because of it, so she was curious. She asked me about it later, a-and I suddenly thought… well, if my parents believed that it was her I’d been seeing—that we were back together—then maybe they’d leave me alone again. And they wouldn’t know about you and me.”
Your frown deepened. You hadn’t managed to sort your confusion into a coherent question in time.
“I ended up not suggesting it,” he added quickly, shoulder twitching. “I-I mean, Amy’s single, so she might not care much if I asked her to play along. But my parents could get ideas. Could ring her parents, and this would turn into another saga. Guess I realised it’d be selfish of me to even ask anyway.”
“Right,” you murmured, distracted by the pulse starting up on the side of your neck. You couldn’t understand why he needed Amy to play along at all.
“That’s why,” he went on, “when you asked me earlier if the rumour about me and Amy was true—well, it’s not. But I thought… maybe if it was true, it could work. For us. You and me.”
You shifted against the wall, tugging your sleeves.
“But,” you tried, “wouldn’t it be simpler to just tell your parents that the girl at Linguini’s was someone else? If you said you were dating someone new, they’d leave you be anyway, wouldn’t they? Wouldn’t even need Amy for it. Got—got our game.”
Yeonjun dropped his gaze to the floorboards, his jaw tight.
“My parents,” he said, “would never approve of this. They wouldn’t leave me be.”
The bluntness of his words was a proper punch. You almost laughed.
“Ah,” you said. “Right. I’m not from a respectable family.”
His wince was small, but sharp. “Well, y-you know. Hardly anyone is for them. All the better for me, though. I never cared about that anyway.”
You thought that was a funny way to put it: all the better for me.
Then again, all his privileges aside, it probably made sense for him to surround himself with people who did not force him to act a certain way because of his status.
“And I-I don’t know,” he added. “Maybe using the rumours with Amy was more about—maybe I just didn’t want to lose the one thing in my life that’s got nothing to do with my parents.”
You hesitated halfway through a breath, lungs stalling as though his words had reached them first.
That could have meant something.
Except the one thing in his life that had nothing to do with his parents was a bet. A game. He’d go so far as to use Amy to keep playing—but that didn’t necessarily mean anything other than his wish to keep playing. Keep proving his point.
This fucking bet.
He didn’t need it to get Amy back. And it never would have helped him get his parents off his case. Never would have bought him freedom.
So if those weren’t his secret motives, you wondered what was.
You worried, a little, that you’d miss them if you stopped looking.
Then you worried, a lot more, that you’d miss something else if you looked too hard.
“I’m sorry I didn’t explain before,” Yeonjun said, his gaze skittering uncertainly to yours. “About Amy.”
You breathed out, flattening your spine against the cool wall. “Yeah. Well, it was a long story.”
“Yeah, but I should’ve said more. Should’ve been clearer.” His eyes searched your face. “It’s just—this is a lot. And your reaction to… uh, all of it—it sort of caught me off guard.”
You stared at the crack on the wall by your bookshelf, right by the freesias.
Your reaction had caught you off guard, too.
“You thought I was using you,” he said, much quieter now. “To get back with Amy. Make her jealous, yeah? That’s why—you thought that was why I started this bet.”
You tilted your head, resisting the urge to deflect. “I mean, you didn’t want Amy to see us together.”
He frowned for a moment, then remembered running into Amy and Nara on the street. Remembered the warmth of your hand as you dragged him into the library archives to avoid them.
“Oh—I-I didn’t want Nara to see us again,” he said. “And with Amy there, too. Shit. Nara was already getting ideas about us. Thought we’d walk right into a slaughter. She would’ve had things to say, even without the dinner. I’ve never had a normal conversation with her about my girlfriends. Convinced she thinks I eat them.”
Your lips stretched despite your resistance. “You don’t, then?”
Your smile forced his chest to settle, just a bit. “Well, you’re still alive, aren’t you?”
“A two-week appetiser.”
He closed his eyes and released a slow breath.
“Love,” he said. “Please.”
You leaned back and ran a hand over your elbow. “Alright. The bet’s not about Amy.”
“It’s not.”
“Okay.”
He nodded, slow and thoughtful. His fingers pulled at each other.
Knowing all that you must’ve been thinking about, he felt that your reaction earlier made sense. He’d blindsided you and then trapped you in the washroom to hand you half a story, dripping with implications.
Honestly, he thought you handled it quite well. If your positions were reversed, he’d have been on his knees.
He took an uncertain breath. Then said again: “I’m sorry. About all of it.”
You wondered how to reply.
Accepting his apology felt oddly like acknowledging that he’d hurt you because you cared.
And admitting that you cared felt oddly like granting him permission to hurt you again.
“Thank you for saying that,” you decided.
He looked at you, but you didn’t meet his gaze. Nodding awkwardly to himself, he turned back ahead.
A stillness settled between you. It wasn’t hostile, nor awkward. Just there.
You let it sit. Let your heart settle after the scrapes and bruises the day had left on it.
Yeonjun’s knee bounced once, twice, then stopped. He wanted to reach for you—a lot—but didn’t think he earned that right back.
“So, um,” he tried, swallowing, “think you’ll ever stop assuming I’ve got a secret agenda?”
You turned to him. “Sure. When you tell me what it is.”
He smiled softly. “Why must I have one at all?”
“Well,” you clicked your tongue, “wouldn’t you find it suspicious if I suddenly approached you and made a bet about dating you for two weeks?”
“I wouldn’t.”
“Sure.”
“No, really.” He tried to pull his lips straight, but ended up grinning anyway. “I wouldn’t assume you had some sinister plan.”
“Why not?” you replied. “Makes sense for you to have it. Why not me?”
That finally did him in. His laughter burst out, bright and far too loud for the size of your flat. It ricocheted off the ceiling, startling you both.
He slapped a hand over his mouth. “W-why does it make sense for me to have a sinister plan?”
Your pulse had finally steadied enough for you to gesture vaguely. “You’re always plotting. Why not with this bet, too?”
“Have you considered that maybe I’m just an idiot?” He dropped his hands back into his lap. “And that’s why I suggested the bet?”
“What do you mean?”
He shrugged, still wearing the same slightly manic smile.
“No,” you said. “Explain.”
“Well, it’s really self-explanatory.”
“It’s not,” you insisted. “Said you wanted to prove me wrong for thinking poorly of you. Now you’re admitting you’re an idiot. I’m baffled.”
Yeonjun thought baffled was the best possible word here, and laughed again—so suddenly that he tipped backwards and ended up sprawled halfway across your bed, one hand flung over his face.
“Shit,” he wheezed, “I am, too.”
You stared. “What?”
His laughter grew louder, wild and breathless, and it finally tugged an absurd snicker out of you.
“Alright, what’s wrong with you?” you demanded, grabbing your pillow as a precautionary weapon should he continue to malfunction.
“Nothing,” he said, and immediately cracked up again as he attempted to sit upright. “Sorry, m’just happy we’re talking again.”
“We were always talking.”
“No.” He lifted a stern finger, wobbling like a mildly intoxicated ancient philosopher. “For a good three hours today, I was talking and you were pretending you couldn’t hear me.”
You smoothed the edge of the pillow on your lap. “You deserved those three hours. Should’ve told me everything so Nara wouldn’t have caught me unaware.”
He wiped the corner of his eyes as the amusement ebbed, shoulders lowering.
“Yeah,” he said. “I should’ve. I’m sorry.”
You drew a slow breath. “Is there anything else I should know, then?”
Your voice was light, but he caught the razor’s edge of challenge in your eyes—daring him to keep quiet about something else that he should have told you, without naming the reason why he should have told you.
“What would you like to know?” he asked, propping himself up on his elbows.
Your skin warmed immediately at his proximity. “Anything that would justify three more hours of pretending I can’t hear you.”
His mouth curved, gaze flickering to the pillow on your knees.
If this was how the two of you would argue from now on—you, pretending you didn’t care, and him, knowing you did—he could live with that. There were worse forms of warfare.
“Well,” he said, straightening and folding his legs under himself. The mattress dipped, tugging you forward until your knees brushed his thigh. “You’re very sensitive about my ex-girlfriends. Suppose I should tell you about all of them.”
You looked like you were on the edge of very sensitively shoving him straight off the bed. He’d missed that more than he realised.
“You should,” you said, offhand. “If you’re in touch with them.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why should I tell you about them,” he pressed, a sly grin spreading across his lips, “if I was in touch with them?”
Your gaze sharpened, fingers tightening on the pillow.
“No real reason,” you said, leaning back. If he wanted to play, you could play. “Figured we’re sharing these things now. For instance, I was thinking of giving Luke a call, so I’ll let you know how that goes.”
His smile died quickly and without dignity.
“You’re not giving Luke a call,” he said.
“Why not?” You reached for your phone on your desk, thumb gliding over the screen. “I’ve got his number.”
Yeonjun clenched his jaw. “Are you doing another presentation with him?”
“No.”
“Then you’re not giving him a call.”
Something sweet spread over your tongue—amusement, maybe, or something more dangerous. “Mhmm. But I’m—”
“I’m not in touch with any of my exes,” he cut in. “And Amy—well, she’s not a real ex anyway.” He paused, checking your face. “But I can—I could send you screenshots of every conversation we’ve ever had, if you want.”
You did not want.
And it was relieving, not to want it. He’d already told you everything that mattered.
“You don’t need to,” you said, placing your phone on the pillow.
“I will,” he insisted, knee jostling as he reached for his own phone. “I’ve nothing to hide, it—”
“Don’t.” You touched the side of his phone, fingers brushing the ridges of his knuckles. It halted him instantly. “If Nara asks about you and Amy, I don’t want to give her your entire life story. You’ve told me enough. S’fine.”
Gaze pinned helplessly to yours, he nodded and returned his phone to his pocket.
“Okay,” he said, throat working. “Then tell me it was a joke.”
“What was?”
“You calling Luke.”
You thought it was quite fascinating, the way he cared about your relationships with other people, yet never properly explained why.
You were unaware, of course, that you did the same to him.
“What if it wasn’t?” you said.
“I,” he began, lingering on the syllable, as though sampling the taste, “would not like that.”
“Why not?”
Bringing his tongue over his lower lip, he leaned back and gave you the exact opposite of what you expected him to say. “Because I want to be the only one you call.”
Despite knowing you’d avert your gaze, he still smirked when you did, delighted by the annoyed press of your lips.
“I don’t call you, though,” you said. “Don’t think I’ve ever called you.”
“Oh—” His brows knit, offended. “Okay, but you’d call Luke?”
Resuming your performance, you lifted your phone again. The screen lit up with a photo of Britney, your grandparents’ cat. Yeonjun inhaled sharply, tracking every movement of your hand.
“Are you jealous,” you said, pulse quickening as you unlocked the screen, “that I would?”
He rolled his eyes demonstratively. “No.”
You swiped up to your contacts. “Cool. So, I’ll call Luke right—”
“I’m jealous. Don’t call him.”
Your smile was villainous as you locked your phone.
He tipped his head back, exhaling.
It would have made sense for you to have evil motives, he thought. He wondered if he should’ve realised it sooner. Maybe you were playing him.
He also wondered what it said about him if he found that deeply attractive.
“Have you got a humiliation kink or something?” he mumbled, gaze drifting across the freesias on your desk.
“Why’s admitting you’re jealous humiliating?”
He wrinkled his nose, the silver bracelets clicking faintly on his wrists as his fingers toyed with the edge of the mattress. “Isn’t it? Worthless emotion.”
You tilted your head. “Sure. But you’re still feeling it. And childishly refusing to put a name on it.”
“Oh—see, no.” He pointed at you. “You don’t get to call anything childish, Miss Silent Treatment.”
Heat flared behind your eyes. “Call me that again, you’ll be Mr Out On Your Ass In The Cold.”
He dropped his hand, lips stretching into an impressed grin.
Hours ago, he’d stood in front of you in the women’s room, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights of a speeding lorry. Parts of him had already felt like roadkill.
Now he felt very alive.
“And anyway,” he said, eyes gleaming, “you never admit to being jealous, either.”
“I’m usually not.” You set your phone back on your desk, choosing not to look at him.
It was criminal, he thought, how sincerely you seemed to mean that.
“You stopped talking to me,” he reminded you, “just at the possibility I might be talking to another girl.”
You fixed the pillow on your lap, crossed your arms, and pulled back.
“Well,” you said, “I obviously didn’t want to bother you and your girlfriend.”
He grinned. “And that’s not jealousy, yeah?”
“It’s kindness. I was silently wishing you both luck.”
“You were silently wishing us both an early death.”
“Semantics.”
His laughter rolled through the room, warming the walls and coaxing a reluctant smile from you. The freesias on your desk seemed to glow.
“I like you like this, you know,” he said, his eyes drifting down your face and settling, slowly, on your lips.
You caught the heat in his gaze and turned away. “Like what?”
“Affected.”
You laughed. Yeonjun had been waiting to hear you laugh for hours now, and his stomach finally snapped back into its usual shape.
“What a strange thing to say,” you remarked.
He shrugged, his knee nudging yours. “Sometimes you pretend I don’t bother you at all. I like it when you show me that I do.”
“Choi Yeonjun,” you said, and he straightened reflexively at the full name, “are you actually admitting that, all these years, you’ve annoyed me just to get a reaction?”
He blinked, genuinely perplexed as to why you needed to ask.
Then he leaned in, shrinking the space between you to something perilous. His thigh came to rest against yours, forcing your stomach to jolt.
“Love,” he said, “why else would I annoy you?”
You stared at him, the seams of the pillow pressing into your palms. “Thought the consensus was that we couldn’t stand each other.”
He smiled wistfully. “Never agreed with that. You drive me up the wall sometimes, yeah. But not because I can’t stand you.”
“Why, then?”
Leaning back again, he lifted his shoulder in a lazy shrug. “Because you affect me, too, I guess.”
You scoffed, your throat uncomfortably warm.
“Couldn’t have picked a word that’s more vague,” you said. “What’s that even mean? Everyone affects everyone.”
“Not the way you affect me.”
Silence briefly reclaimed the room, unbothered by either of you. Warm light pooled lazily across the floorboards, caressing the freesias around your bed.
Ask him, Reina had told you last night.
Your pulse climbed in your throat with the words.
“Jun,” you said. He felt the tips of his fingers melt at the nickname. “Can I ask you something, then?”
His nod was immediate. “Yeah. ‘Course.”
Another moment passed before your courage arranged itself into a single sentence: “Do you like me?”
His breath was a startled stutter in his chest. “What?”
You didn’t dare blink. “Do you like me?”
His gaze darted from your face to your hands, not knowing where to settle and therefore not settling anywhere.
You’d nearly talked about this before. Nearly talked about a lot of things. And you’d come to the comfortable, familiar conclusion that he would never have feelings for you.
That had been ridiculous.
This was something else. He couldn’t feel his legs.
“Do I like you?” he echoed, almost to himself.
You tightened your grip on the pillow. “Are you really a parrot, then?”
“Mm.” He raised his chin. “Just checking if we’re in kindergarten, love.”
“With you, we might as well be.”
His heart threatened to burst straight through his ribcage. Maybe that would answer your question.
“Okay,” he said, eyes locked on yours. “I like you.”
You watched him for a quiet moment.
That was entirely the wrong word, you realised. As useless as affected.
What did it mean to like someone? People liked biscuits. They liked neighbours who signed for their parcels when they weren’t home.
“In what way?” you asked, leaning slightly back.
A grin unfurled across his mouth, slow and inevitable. This was going to be that kind of conversation, then.
“In what way would you like me to like you?”
Your gaze sharpened. “Be serious.”
“I am,” he insisted, cheeks stretching. “This is highly serious. In fact, I’ve heard Chris from Year Three also likes you, so I’m going to fight him behind the bike shed after school. I reckon he—”
“Alright.” You slapped your palms on the pillow. “Fine. Act stupid.”
Laughing, he scooted closer to you. “I was answering your question, lov—”
“No.” You refused to meet his gaze, so he leaned in until your palm pushed his chest away. “You were making jokes.”
He fell back with another exasperated laugh. “You asked if I liked you. I said I did!”
“I asked in what wa—”
“In every way.” He pushed back his hair, grinning like he’d got away with a heist at the Louvre. “Should I list each of the ways, too, love? Maybe put them in a nice poem—”
“Right, yeah.” You dropped the pillow and stood from the bed. “I hope Chris from Year Three kicks your ass.”
He laughed too hard to even attempt to stop you from leaving.
Still wheezing, he scrambled upright, nearly taking out the vase of freesias as he found his feet. You were already halfway out of your room when he finally managed to navigate around the flowers.
“Come on, love!” he called. “Why’d you ask if you’re not going to accept my answer?”
You stopped in the corridor, arms folded. “Thought you’d manage to be normal for one second.”
“I am normal!” he insisted, twisting his mouth. “What’s not normal about me?”
“You look like you’ve eaten a clothes hanger for lunch.”
He knew. But, shit, he couldn’t do a thing about it.
“So?” he challenged, inhaling deeply to regain control of his expression.
“So, you’re clearly still playing your games.”
“I’m smiling because you’ve managed to build all this,” he said, stepping closer, “just from asking whether I like you.”
You huffed, turning away. “Fuck off, then—”
“No—” Laughing, he lunged forward and caught your hand. His fingers slid down to your wrist, tugging gently until you faced him again. His hands were warm. “I find this conversation very endearing, and I want to keep having it, please. Actually, I think I like you more now.”
“I like you less.”
His laughter filled the corridor. Before you could flee again, he tightened his hold and pulled you into him. You stumbled a step, half resisting, until your chest met his. His arms wrapped around your shoulders, locking you against him.
The space around you contracted, reduced to his touch. His shirt still smelled of citrus.
“Did you know,” he murmured into your hair, voice warm against your temple, “that you’re outrageously ridiculous sometimes?”
“What?” You tried to lift your head, but his arms refused to loosen. Another wave of heat rippled over your skin.
“You heard me,” he said, pulling back just enough to see your face. “Putting up a front. Asking questions you already know the answers to, just so you could hear me say them.”
“I’m not—”
“You are. Maybe that’s exactly why I like you.”
Your heart thudded hard enough to inflate your stomach, and you felt it float somewhere inside you in an uncertain balloon.
“S’awfully masochistic, then,” you muttered, gaze dropping to his shoulders.
He snickered, and the sound vibrated through your ribs. You realised your fingers had curled into his shirt.
“I know s’what you’re into,” he said, nuzzling his face back into the crook of your neck. “And look how good I am for you, satisfying all your sadistic fantasies.”
“My fantasies are not sadistic.”
“You daydream about stabbing me in the neck,” he countered mildly. “Had me spelling out I’m jealous when you talk to other people.”
Your fingers tightened into the fabric. “That was for your own good.”
“Was it?” His smile pressed against your cheek. “How’s that good for me?”
“Your ego needs to be taken down a notch.”
He drew back slightly, hand rising to cradle the back of your head, fingers threading gently through your hair.
“It’s already down, love,” he murmured. “You’ve got me where you want me.”
Your tentative breath trembled against his collarbone.
He wondered if you realised what that did to him. Wondered if you felt all that bloomed in his chest when you hugged him back.
His next breath stumbled. You felt it before you heard it, a tightening behind his ribs.
“Do you want to go out?” he asked—so suddenly that it didn’t immediately register as a question.
His arms relaxed just enough for you to take half a step back out of his grip.
“Why—where?”
“Just out.” He jerked his chin toward the door. “Not too cold tonight. Thought we could go somewhere nice.”
You remained motionless. The elephant in the room cocked its head at you in confusion: Should I stay, or go?
“Uh—sure,” you said, glancing around without fully registering your surroundings.
He tugged you gently down the corridor. You followed without a scrap of meaningful resistance, as though the ground was slightly sloped towards him. Your mind followed a few steps behind.
By the mirror, Yeonjun let go of you to put on his shoes. The absence of his touch brought a sudden chill. Finally, you took a breath.
“I said I’d play the piano for you one day,” he said, fastening his laces.
Your senses remembered the restaurant before your mind did; you could almost taste the faint remnants of garlic at the back of your tongue.
“You did,” you said, forcing your gaze away from him.
“Let’s go, then.”
While he rummaged for his jacket, you watched the broken clock. The second hand quivered, as though nervous.
“Where will you find a piano you can use?” you asked, finally bending to pull on your boots. The zipper snagged on the hem of your joggers.
“Already found one.” He tapped his phone, and the screen lit up his frown. “Oh, hang on. Give me—maybe two seconds. He’s offline.”
“Who?”
“Taehyun.”
You paused mid-zip. “Taehyun?”
He sighed at the alarm in your voice.
Taehyun worked at the local theatre, about ten minutes from campus. Officially, he was the director’s assistant. Unofficially, he ran the place on his own. It was an unspoken rule that you did not bother him when he was in that building.
You opened your mouth to argue, then decided to find your coat instead.
Predictably, the two of you fell into an argument about the insufficient thickness of your scarves right after that. Yeonjun insisted you took his again. You insisted yours was fine. He planted himself in front of the bowl of keys until you begrudgingly wrapped his scarf around your neck.
“I think you are very annoying,” you informed him, “when you make me do things I disagree with.”
“I think you look very pretty,” he replied, “when you wear my scarf and I don’t have to worry you’ll freeze solid.”
You rolled your eyes without meaning it one bit, and reached to grab your keys.
Grinning, Yeonjun took your hand again and led you out into the stairwell. You let him pull you down the stairs, out into the night, and straight across the street, your fingers intertwined with his.
This, clearly, wasn’t something you disagreed with.
✦ • ─── MARCH 5, 2025. 10 PM (DAY 8)
Taehyun had left the door of the theatre unlocked. Yeonjun shoved it open and pulled you inside before the cold could cling to your coat. His hand stayed wrapped around yours.
Only a single backstage bulb glowed behind the curtain, lighting up the front row and abandoning the rest of the theatre to shadow. The ropes cast thin, restless lines across Yeonjun’s face as he led you down the narrow side aisle.
“How often do you come here?” you whispered, as if a louder tone might disturb someone.
“To see Taehyun?” he murmured back. You nodded. “Often.”
He paused at a panel, half-hidden in the wall, and patted around until his fingers found the switch. One by one, the overhead lamps blinked awake, pouring light over the mahogany seats.
“Not a lot of other options,” he said, footsteps soft on the carpet. “Soobin doesn’t have time for me anymore. Either he works, or he’s out with Reina.”
You considered that.
Shortly after Reina started dating Soobin, you didn’t see much of her, either. Then, one night, you were together in your flat, drinking and talking about all the happy times you’ve shared over the years. And how scared you were that those times would end now.
Drunk on emergency Merlot, the two of you swore to always make time for each other, no matter what or who wandered into your lives.
You’d both kept the promise so far.
“Have you told him that?” you asked.
Yeonjun brushed the worn wood of a chair with his palm. “I don’t want him to rearrange his life for me. Who am I?”
You gave him a look. “His housemate. His closest friend.”
“No—yeah, but…” He shook his head. “No. I wouldn’t do that. He’s busy. I’m fine. And Taehyun is great—”
Something clattered to the floor behind the curtain. A moment later, a metal stage light rolled out and clanged to a stop at centre stage.
You raised an eyebrow. “Taehyun sounds busy, too.”
Yeonjun shrugged. “Well, I just hang out here. I don’t bother him.”
“He brings Beomgyu!” a voice bellowed from behind the curtain, echoing dramatically across the hollow space.
You smiled.
Yeonjun rolled his eyes and waved a dismissive hand. “He just means that sometimes Gyu and I talk to him when we’re not supposed to. And he’s too nice to tell us to shut up, so he gets really stressed. His eyes go huge, he flaps his hands around. S’quite entertaining, actually.”
“Oh, yeah, no,” you said dryly, “annoying people is your hobby. I’m aware.”
His grin owned up to the accusation, but showed no remorse.
At the edge of the stage, his attention slid to the white grand piano—a Steinway, as confirmed by the faint lettering gleaming under the lamps—half-draped in a dark blue cloth. He hoisted himself up onto the stage.
“So you don’t bring Beomgyu to Soobin’s bar, then?” you asked, resting your arms on the edge of the platform. “Only here?”
“We go to the bar sometimes, too,” he huffed, wrestling with the cloth. “But then Bin starts mixing cocktails for us to try—brilliant stuff, actually. But I haven’t got plans to descend into alcoholism before I’m thirty, so you know. Those two are beyond saving, but I’ve got to save myself. Maybe I’ll join them when I’m ready.”
You snorted. “After thirty, then.”
He flashed you a grin. “After thirty.”
“I’ll join, too,” a voice said.
You turned to see Taehyun emerging from stage left. His black short-sleeved shirt was covered with a fine layer of grime. He brushed at it, sending a dusty cloud drifting away.
“I’ll probably be ready to retire by that point,” he added. “Hi, by the way. Welcome.”
“Hi,” you said. “Is it okay for us to be here?”
Taehyun pointed at Yeonjun. “Does he look like someone I can stop?”
Yeonjun ignored the obvious slander and settled at the piano. He pressed a few keys, then grimaced at the dissonance.
Taehyun lowered himself to the edge of the stage, legs dangling. You shifted nearer, shoulder brushing the platform, and gave him a proper once-over under the lights.
“How long have you been here today?” you asked. “You look like you haven’t slept. No offence—you still look nice. I just mean your eyes—”
A metallic clang cut you off as Yeonjun yanked his hands away from the keys. “Don’t tell him he looks nice.”
You ignored him.
Taehyun did not.
“Why can’t she tell me I look nice?” he asked, turning around.
“Because we’re on a date,” Yeonjun said, standing, “and it’s very rude.”
Bending over the strings, he missed the way Taehyun’s eyebrows nearly vaulted off his forehead.
Taehyun swivelled toward you, the weight of his surprise practically pressing against you. “You’re on a date?”
You gave a defeated sigh and did not argue.
It felt pointless to keep forcing your bet into a secret when it had clearly ceased being one. Reina knew. Nara, clearly, also knew.
Impossibly, Taehyun looked even more stunned.
He’d assumed there had to be an academic reason why Yeonjun came here with you. Beomgyu told him you’d gone to Yeonjun’s race for ‘ethnographic research’ before—and wiggled his eyebrows when he relayed this information. Taehyun hadn’t understood why.
He thought he understood now.
“It’s a game,” you said as a way of explaining, and rubbed your thumb along the edge of the stage. The wood felt smoother than it looked.
Taehyun frowned. “You play games on your dates?”
“It’s—”
“We do loads of things on our dates,” Yeonjun cut in.
You felt the weight of his grin without turning to look.
Taehyun handled that for you. He stared at Yeonjun, then at you again. Finally, he grinned.
“Right,” he said. “Empty theatres are great for romantic games.”
Yeonjun looked completely at ease, as though he’d been taking you to empty theatres for romantic games for decades.
“I needed the piano,” he said, then pressed another key and muttered something unpleasant under his breath.
“To actually play it?”
“Yes.”
Taehyun glanced back at you, frowning. “Have you heard him play before?”
“No,” you said. “But he claims he’s a prodigy.”
Yeonjun slid back onto the stool. His fingers prowled across the keys in what he pretended was a test, but sounded like an attempt to illustrate your point.
“Right,” Taehyun said, giving a sage nod. “He’s actually not bad.”
Yeonjun scoffed so loudly that the sound echoed up into the balconies. “Not bad?”
“Well, I’ve only heard you play once,” Taehyun said, leaning back on his hands. “Could’ve memorised that one melody ages ago and decided to milk it forever.”
“It’s not—”
“Wait,” you cut in. “You’ve heard him play?”
“Once,” Taehyun said. “He was drunk.”
You turned fully to Yeonjun. He offered no denial, nor the faintest explanation. Just stared at the keys as though they’d come alive under his gaze.
You remembered him saying he never saw the point in playing. Now you wondered what had changed.
“Recently, then?” you asked Taehyun.
“Maybe a month ago.” He bent to fix a loose cable on the edge of the stage. “I didn’t even know he seriously played before that. He’d usually just come here and glare at the piano. Then one night, he actually sat down and played.”
“A month ago?”
“Yeah. After his race—”
“Alright,” Yeonjun cut in, sharply enough to make Taehyun jolt. He positioned himself over the keys. “Ready?”
You cast him a curious look, then pushed off the platform. “Yeah—”
“Wait,” Taehyun blurted, clambering off the stage. “Can I be here? Don’t want to third-wheel your serenade.”
“You’re not third-wheeling,” you said.
“Then you can go, please,” Yeonjun said at the same time.
You whipped your head toward him. Yeonjun met your eyes and sighed, as though suffering dreadfully. Then he rearranged his mouth into something that technically qualified as a smile.
“You’re not third-wheeling,” he said.
Visibly impressed, Taehyun nodded and turned to join you in the front row.
“Nice job,” he whispered over the armrest. “Whatever game you’re playing, you’re clearly winning.”
You mustered a smile, fingers smoothing over the velvet of the chair.
You didn’t feel like you were winning.
“Alright,” Yeonjun said again, settling on the stool. He had no sheet music and did not seem to need it. “Silence, please.”
And then he played.
The first notes were soft in the empty theatre—almost bashful, but with a quiet resolve stirring beneath. Somewhere above, the old rigging creaked in sympathy, threading into the harmony.
You didn’t recognise the piece, but something in it tugged at the back rooms of your memory with the weight of déjà vu. Like some tune you’d overheard in a lifetime that you no longer remembered.
From the front row, you watched Yeonjun’s focus narrow. His face hardly moved, except for his parted lips, as if he breathed out every sound he played. His shoulders carried a heaviness that seeped, note by note, into the music.
The melody dipped into a lingering pause, and your fingers clenched around the armrest.
Beside you, Taehyun didn’t look at Yeonjun at all. His eyes stayed on you, a small, understanding smile on his face, as though he recognised the precise moment something inside you had shifted.
The crescendo rose.
Treble and bass chased each other, one calling out, the other answering, until they collapsed back into one. The air gathered around the Steinway, pulsing with each note.
You could feel the practised glide of Yeonjun’s hands, the ease that had to come from playing this melody dozens of times, in rooms you’d never seen, at hours he’d never told you about. You wanted to know about every one of them.
When the last chord dissolved into the balconies, Yeonjun twisted on the stool to face you both.
“This was Yiruma,” he said. “It’s called Love Me.”
A spark flared at the base of your spine, then spread, warm and swift, bringing every one of your nerves to attention.
You weren’t breathing.
Taehyun began clapping first, slow and ceremonial, as he pushed himself to his feet. The applause echoed, thundering in the empty hall.
You joined in a moment later. Yeonjun was already standing, gaze fixed on the cloth he’d dropped to the ground earlier.
He’d said a lot just now, entirely without words. He realised he couldn’t say much else.
Finally, you found your voice. “That—that was really good.”
Yeonjun lowered the lid with a lot more care than was necessary.
“Well,” he said, wiping his palms on his jeans, “what did I tell you?”
You glanced at Taehyun, who was already waiting for you. You shared a fond, understanding smile—God, he’s unbearable—and turned back to Yeonjun.
Your heartbeat was still rattling around your ribcage, wild and absurdly disobedient. Yeonjun hopped down from the stage and came over to you.
There were a lot of questions you wanted to ask him. And possibly other things you wanted to do with him—to him?—as well.
Taehyun’s grin widened as if he’d read that directly off your face.
“That was almost as good as last time,” he said, patting Yeonjun on the shoulder. “You just memorise everything, then?”
Shrugging, Yeonjun dropped into the seat beside you.
“S’cold in here,” he said, and did not acknowledge Taehyun’s question. Didn’t even look at either of you.
Clearly, he’d closed the piano and himself with it.
You and Taehyun quietly settled back into your seats, the old velvet sighing softly beneath you.
“Yeah, the heating’s dodgy,” Taehyun said, leaning forward to peer at him past you. “You could warm us up with more of your stellar piano skills, though.”
“No,” Yeonjun said, letting his head drop against the back of the chair. “That’s enough for the day.”
“That’s it, then?” Taehyun reclined, gaze flicking back to you. “Are your dates usually five minutes long?”
“They—”
“Didn’t say the date was over,” Yeonjun cut in. He reached out to touch your knee in a quiet apology for interrupting. “Just said I’m not playing anything else.”
Taehyun noticed the touch, noticed your blinking, and hummed, satisfied. Never mind the piano or the duration of your dates.
“Did you two skip Beomgyu’s film night just for this?” he asked with a properly impertinent grin.
You gave a surprised scoff. “No. We skipped it because Gyu’s using it as a date with Nara without having the spine to call it that.”
“Right. Not because you wanted to sneak off on your own, then?”
Lips pressed together, you glanced sideways at Yeonjun. He only grinned and did not say a word. The answer was up to you anyway.
You chose not to answer at all.
“Well, tell me more, then, come on.” Taehyun bounced in his seat. “How long’s this been going on between you?”
Yeonjun waited for your gaze to return to him. You gave him a small shrug – he’d already said this was a date anyway. He might as well continue.
He turned back to Taehyun. “About a week.”
Somewhere behind you, one of the seats snapped shut with a hollow thud. The theatre seemed to be breathing on its own.
“A week,” Taehyun repeated, utterly unfazed by the sounds around him. “Hmm. And how’d it start? Who asked whom?”
“Guess I did,” Yeonjun said.
Taehyun frowned. “You guess? Was it a riddle, then?”
“It’s, uh—complicated.”
“Why?”
Again, Yeonjun turned to you. In his mind, revealing that this was a date was very different from actually elaborating on it. You clearly didn’t mind this being a date anymore.
But now he felt like he was balancing on the edge of saying something you wouldn’t want him to say in front of other people. Like the fact that this, technically, started as a bet.
You appreciated his hesitation, as belated as it was. But this still was, technically, a bet.
“We thought it’d be fun to do this on a trial period,” you told Taehyun with a wry smile.
Taehyun leaned back. Some semblance of understanding began to dawn on him. You and Yeonjun were far too stubborn to start dating on a whim.
“A trial period,” he said, shifting in his chair. “To see—to see what, exactly?”
“To see if I’m worth it,” Yeonjun supplied.
You grimaced. That was a grotesque oversimplification. But, you supposed, it wasn’t entirely wrong.
“Oh,” Taehyun remarked, gaze sharpening. “So you’re trying to convince her to reciprocate your feelings.”
The rafters creaked above, amused.
Holding your breath, you wondered if Yeonjun, seated close enough for your hands to brush on the armrest, felt the way your stomach dropped.
He did not. His own stomach had been somewhere around his ankles ever since you’d asked him if he liked you back at your flat.
“He’s trying to prove he’s irresistible,” you clarified to Taehyun. “Because, apparently, I’ve got the wrong impression about him.”
“Right,” Taehyun said. “Isn’t that what I just said?”
You forced a faint laugh. “Well, no. Feelings don’t have much to do with this.”
“We had a productive discussion about that earlier,” Yeonjun added, leaning over you. “Whole thing’s an ongoing investigation.”
You turned to give him a look. He grinned, infuriatingly close.
“Well, I hope you two sort it out,” Taehyun said. “You make a nice couple.”
“I think so, too,” Yeonjun said.
You snorted, turning back ahead. “Do we?”
“Why not?” Taehyun flicked his gaze between you. “Both easy on the eyes. Well, you’re much easier, obviously, but—oh, there it is, Jun’s going to bite my head off for that. See? You’ve both got violent tendencies, too. It’s adorable. You’re a—”
“Wh—excuse me?” you spluttered in protest. “What violent tendencies? I’m a nice person.”
Taehyun patted your arm, as though in consolation.
“She is, yeah,” Yeonjun said, looking at you with a fondness that nearly startled Taehyun all over again. “Always makes sure to nicely remind me I’ll die before I graduate if I fuck up in any way, shape, or form.”
“I could kill you without warning,” you said, turning to him, “would that be nicer?”
He grinned. “Be nice if you didn’t kill me at all, love.”
“Then don’t fuck up in any way, shape, or form.”
Right as Yeonjun grinned, his gaze dropping reflexively to your lips, Taehyun sighed dramatically and sprang to his feet.
“Alright, then,” he announced. “Back to work before you two start—well, whatever couples do. You’re nice together, but not nice enough for me to sit through the making-out montage. Stay as long as you’d like, though.”
Yeonjun started laughing before you’d even processed the words.
“Whose making-out montage would you sit through?” he called after him.
Walking backwards, Taehyun snorted and tapped a finger to his chin. “Maybe Gyu and Nara? They’ve been a long time coming.”
Yeonjun gasped dramatically. “And we haven’t been?”
“Eh.” Taehyun shrugged, turning on his heel. “Figured it was a matter of time for you two.”
A question rose in your throat, but he was already slipping behind the curtains, fingers caressing the fly ropes.
The theatre settled around you again, quiet and oddly self-conscious. You felt Yeonjun smiling beside you, felt the nudge of his shoulder, but didn’t dare to meet his gaze.
Something was happening.
It was a matter of time for you two.
“You want to head back?” Yeonjun murmured, leaning over the armrest.
His breath brushed your cheek. Suddenly, you could hear the gentle piano notes echoing around you again. Your pulse attempted to flatline.
You glanced around at the empty seats. The theatre had warped your sense of time. You couldn’t have said if you’d been here all night or had just arrived.
“Yeah,” you said. Your hand found his before you’d properly thought about it.
His fingers were warm against yours, his grip a little too tight, as though he had noticed the charged suspense the theatre held, too, and didn’t want you to slip away into it.
Together, you walked down the centre aisle, then paused suddenly at the door.
“You think he wants the lights off?” Yeonjun asked, glancing back.
You squinted toward Taehyun’s faint silhouette behind the curtains.
“Taehyun!” you shouted. Yeonjun jumped, tightening his grip on your hand even more. “We’re going! Lights on or off?”
“Off, please!” came his instant response. “Have fun!”
Yeonjun flipped the switch. The theatre fell into perfect darkness. Only the green exit sign glowed, guiding you towards the door.
Yeonjun felt violently giddy and was profoundly grateful for the dark. If you’d thought he’d eaten a hanger earlier, now you’d have surely assumed he’d swallowed an entire clothes rack.
It was the announcement you’d made, across the whole theatre: we’re going.
You were a we again.
You came together and left together.
You turned off the lights together.
He was practically skipping (with your hand in his—together!).
Outside, the night air was gentle on your face. It wasn’t cold, but Yeonjun still pulled you closer, as though it was second nature. His jacket smelled faintly of theatre dust.
Your bodies aligned easily, hand in hand, hip to hip, as though you’d been rehearsing the choreography for years.
“What did you play for Taehyun?” you asked. The drone of passing cars muffled your voice. “When you were here before.”
Yeonjun’s smile faltered under the streetlights. Careful not to let go of your hand, he stepped around a puddle on the pavement.
“It wasn’t really for Taehyun,” he said. “It was for me.”
“I thought you didn’t play anymore,” you said.
“I don’t.” He shrugged. “But that night, I wanted to.”
“How come?”
He released a breath loaded with something restless.
Immediately, you opened your mouth to take the question back, but Yeonjun was already speaking.
“I’m just—well,” he said, “you wouldn’t like my answer.”
You stared at the reflections in the puddles. “Why not?”
“It correlates heavily with my wardrobe.”
The next few steps passed in silence, your boots scraping against the pavement.
Yeonjun assumed you understood.
You did not.
“How does your wardrobe correlate with you playing the piano, exactly?” you asked.
“Well,” he said, tongue dragging across his lower lip, “it doesn’t really correlate so much as it, uh… causes it.”
Resisting the urge to scold him for licking his lips in the wind, you squeezed your eyes shut against a violent gust.
“Mhmm,” you said. “Explain.”
“I can’t, really,” he said with another shrug. “Kissed you in the wardrobe, and then my hands wouldn’t sit still. Don’t know the exact science behind that.”
Your mind immediately scrambled to dismiss the implication. Coincidence. Random association. Head injury, perhaps.
“Could’ve been a correlation, after all,” you said.
He’d anticipated that and smiled. “No. One thing directly influenced the other.”
You kept your eyes forward, wondering what that meant.
Then you decided not to wonder.
“Do you play when you’re sad?” you asked, quieter. “Or when you’re happy?”
“I—well, I don’t play,” he said, scratching his jaw. “Haven’t in months. But that night, I wanted to again.”
He looked at you, finally, as he spoke. The streetlights caught in his eyes and in your chest.
“Alright,” you said, gaze returning to the street ahead. “Well. What’s not to like about this answer?”
His mouth curved. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You shrugged, tugging slightly at his hand. “As far as answers go, it was quite adequate.”
“Quite adequate, mhmm.” He raised his eyes to the overcast sky. “So if I’d said I played because you inspired me, you’d have cringed and told me to stop fucking around, yeah?”
“Might’ve hit you, too.”
His laughter slipped between you, light and airy. A third companion for the night.
“Right, of course,” he said. “Good thing s’not what I said, then.”
You felt your own smile pull at the corners of your lips. “Hmm.”
The wet pavement glistened under the streetlights. Cars continued to drift up and down the street. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw your intertwined hands swinging in an unconscious rhythm.
It felt like barely a minute passed before you reached your building, though the walk should’ve taken far longer. This whole night had slipped loose from the usual constraints of time.
Wordlessly, Yeonjun followed you up to the fifth floor, footsteps echoing around the empty building.
Wordlessly, you watched him stop at the landing, hands braced on his thighs, trying to restart his lungs.
The echo of your earlier conversation at your flat greeted you again at your door like it had never left. Like it had been waiting.
He’d said he liked you.
Your brain had shut down completely.
Now you stared at the scuffed tiles, counting flecks of reflected light and avoiding your thoughts.
“So,” Yeonjun said at last, his voice too loud in the hush of the stairwell.
“So,” you echoed, unhelpfully.
You risked a glance at him, caught the amused curve of his lips, and promptly looked away again.
No.
This won’t work. You’d counted all the lights three times already. Your mind refused to relax.
“So,” you tried once more, mouth heavy as though full of cotton, “about—about our earlier conversation.”
“Mhmm.” Yeonjun leaned his back against the wall. “The part where I can’t smile when I talk to you, yeah?”
You sighed. “You weren’t smiling. You were smirking. In an evil way.”
He snorted at the description, then broke into full laughter.
“No—come on, love,” he said, voice softer. “What’s it matter if I’m smirking? Said I’ve never lied to you anyway. I meant that.”
You tugged on the edge of your coat. “Excessive flirting could, in all fairness, qualify as a lie.”
His grin spread. “How would it, in all fairness, qualify as a lie?”
“If you do it with the intent of a gain—”
“Who flirts without the intent of a gain?”
“Well—” You paused when the motion sensors flicked the lights off with an audible click. “It depends on what your gain is. And you—”
Yeonjun pushed off the wall, triggering the lights again.
You barely registered the glow before he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a gentle, fleeting kiss. Just enough to settle something unsettled inside you.
Your breath caught on his mouth, like it wasn’t sure which one of you it belonged to.
Then he stepped back. “That’s my gain.”
Your gaze followed him as he retreated, his spine finding the wall again. The edges of your vision were swimming.
“You didn’t believe me,” he said, eyes half-lidded, hands flexing at his sides, “back at the flat. Still think I’ve got my motives. Trying to win the bet and all, yeah?”
Your throat tightened, overwhelmed. “I—”
“S’fine.” A small smile ghosted across his lips. “Said I’d prove you wrong, didn’t I? I’ll prove you wrong about this, too, then.”
Your heartbeat grew uncomfortably loud. You crossed your arms as if that might muffle it.
“You’ll prove you’re not trying to win the bet,” you said, “by trying harder to win the bet?”
He frowned, then dragged a hand through his hair.
“No, that—that’s not what I meant,” he said. “I meant I’ll prove I want you. Until you want me, too.”
The stairwell around you swayed a little.
He didn’t realise how sequential that had sounded. How goal-oriented.
You did.
“Hmm. Lowering the stakes already, then?” You leaned your shoulder against the wall beside him, the concrete cool against your coat. There was a subtle smirk on your lips. “Thought we were talking about love in two weeks.”
Yeonjun took a moment to process.
Then another.
Then a third to reboot.
“Oh.” His voice thinned, like all air had left him. “Oh, you—so you want me now?”
“Wanting is not what love is.”
God, he loved that you didn’t say no.
“Right,” he breathed, hands folding behind his back as though he was physically restraining himself. “What is love, then?”
Your lips stretched at the question. He liked that—but understood, watching you, why you didn’t trust smiles. They tended to lead to trouble.
“I don’t know, actually,” you said. “You never defined what it means.”
“Hmm. What does it mean for you?”
You exhaled—briefly, yet he closed his eyes like he was drowning in your breath.
“Affection, I suppose,” you said.
He squeezed his eyes tighter. “Right.”
“Deep emotional attachment.”
“Mhmm.”
“Commitment.”
Yeonjun thought, with a dizzying certainty, that he was irreversibly fucked if that was what love was. Had been for ages, probably.
Hard to confirm when his head was spinning away from him.
“Alright.” He drew in a sharp breath, glancing at you again. “Well. Give it six more days, then, love.”
Slowly, you lifted your gaze to meet his.
It didn’t have to be this complicated, you thought. He could’ve proved you wrong— proved he really did like you—very easily. Could’ve even done it right now.
If he cut the bet.
If he said the words with nothing to gain. Not to prove he was charming. Not to make you fall in love.
But this was still a game, then.
You were surprised to feel disappointed.
“Right,” you said. Your voice remained soft, but your eyes glinted with something sharper. “Because it’d be a shame if one of us gave up on the bet early, yeah?”
Yeonjun let out a long, miserable sound. Above you, the light groaned louder, as though this was a competition of volume.
“Really, love?” he whined, an exaggerated pout on his lips. “Out of everything I’ve said to you—”
You smiled at his dramatics and placed a hand on his chest.
He forgot to breathe. Warmth seeped through his jacket as your fingers trembled slightly. His pulse leapt to greet you.
“Alright,” you said. “Prove me wrong.”
His eyes lit, wide and unblinking. He didn’t want to risk missing a single flicker of your expression.
“I will,” he said.
“The clock is ticking.”
Scoffing, he reached up to your hand. His fingers closed around yours, pressing your knuckles into his chest. You could feel the rapid, uneven rhythm of his heart.
“Think you could make this a bit easier for me, though?” he asked.
You were dangerously close to making everything easier for you both. “How?”
“Tell me where we are, first,” he said. The lights cut out again as the two of you stood still, hands intertwined on his chest. “Still a seven?”
You cleared your throat. “We nearly hit a zero earlier, actually.”
His heart reacted first—a sharp, startled jump beneath your fingers. Then he clicked his tongue, grumbling incoherently as though chastising himself.
Your amused smile steadied him. “I don’t know where we are, Jun.”
He thought that was interesting, because he knew exactly where he was – the nickname had launched him somewhere to the left of cloud nine.
Suddenly, he was thinking about last night. Thinking about you on his lap. Your lips on his neck, hot and heavy and fucking heavenly. Your warmth under his fingers. Your—
He needed to stop thinking about you on his lap.
“Okay,” he said, squeezing your hand. “Do something else for me, then?”
Your gaze fell to his lips before you could stop it. “What?”
“Open your mind,” he raised his free hand, thumb and forefinger barely apart, “this much, yeah? See if maybe sometimes I do mean what I say. No angle. No gain.”
Your eyes lowered to your joined hands, lingering on the subtle caress of his thumb over your knuckles.
He inclined his head until his eyes caught yours again.
“Could you do that for me, love?” he asked. “I’ll even—alright, I’ll make it better. You can kill me if you catch me lying. Don’t need my permission, I know. But I—I’m volunteering.”
You smiled again, shaking your head. The lights flickered back on.
“You want my hands on you that bad?” you said.
His grin returned. “Guess I do.”
“Could just say so, then.”
His heart thumped so hard you felt it echo in your own pulse. “Oh—and you’d put them on me?”
You shrugged. “Guess I would.”
He pushed off the wall without meaning to, drawing nearer, his eyes locked on yours. Your breath caught in your throat.
“Right. I’m going to really,” he murmured, his breath warm against your cheek, “really need you to open your mind for me. Okay, love?”
You swallowed slowly. “Okay.”
“Okay,” he echoed, eyes tracing your lips. “I’ll prove you wrong.”
“Hmm—”
“And I want your hands on me, love. So fucking bad.”
Your fingers found the collar of his jacket just as his mouth connected with yours.
The kiss was hurried, yet almost cautious—like he wanted to prove you wrong about this, too. His lips tasted faintly of mint, cool against the heat rising in your chest. His hand slid up to your jaw, fingers brushing your cheekbone.
The moment you pulled him closer, his restraint snapped.
He deepened the kiss, his tongue meeting yours as a low sound rumbled in his throat. His thumb swept along your cheek while his other arm curved around your waist, steadying you both as if the corridor had suddenly turned upside down.
Every one of his breaths against your lips, every desperate press of his mouth, every deliberate brush of his tongue felt dangerous. Felt necessary. Like there was no other point, just this.
When you tilted your head, fingers sinking into the leather of his jacket, his body responded instantly. His breath hitched, grip tightened, shoulders tensed. He drew you into him, enveloping you in the nervous energy inside him. And he kissed you harder now, eager, as though chasing something. As though he feared he’d drop you otherwise, and you’d roll out of reach.
Your fingers slipped into his hair, and he hissed softly at the gentle pull. Your tongue eased the sharpness he felt in his mouth.
A fire started in his chest. He felt the sparks shooting down his spine, gathering in his stomach. He thought he was floating or drowning or already at the bottom of the sea. Your quiet, shuddering breath against his mouth anchored him.
His hands stilled as his thoughts attempted to break through the haze in his head.
He’d taken you on a furious spin today. It was time to end the date.
Shit, though. He couldn’t pull away.
His kisses softened again, lips brushing yours in slow, deliberate touches. Breathless and lingering. Soft, warm, and slow. Each kiss an apology for every doubt he’d made you have.
Finally, he pulled back, but didn’t let go. His forehead pressed against yours, breath warm on your skin. His fingers tapped lightly at your sides.
“Is it very late?” he whispered.
You let out a breathless laugh. “I’ve genuinely no idea.”
He smiled and pressed another kiss to your lips. Then he forced himself back a step, decisive but visibly pained.
“I’ll go,” he said, though every part of him resisted. “But I’ll prove you wrong, love.”
Your smile was gentle. “Mhmm.”
Yeonjun closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Then he turned towards the stairs.
He didn’t dare look back in case he abandoned all sense and stayed pressed against you forever. Or longer. Time didn’t feel real tonight.
“Just so you know,” he added, gripping the railing, “I really would fight Chris from Year Three for you. And I’d win.”
Your laughter lit his chest like an emergency flare. He turned around despite his better judgment.
“Well, I should hope so,” you said. “He’s in Year Three. You’re twenty-five.”
He flexed his arms, lips pursed in dramatic concentration, and continued down the stairs to the sound of your laughter. His gaze lingered on yours until he couldn’t see you anymore.
Watching him go, you thought he might’ve been the biggest idiot in the world. Top three, at the very least.
✦⋆ Kinktober, day thirteen: fingering/quirophilia with Sunghoon
✦ Word count: 2.3K
✦ Taglist: @tatikeu, @shhth, @isagistar, @ejfkdfls, @cutehoons02, @starry-eyed-bimbo, @hearts4h00n, @beaepa
✦ Content warning: established relationship, lawyer Sunghoon in a suit (🥵), alcohol consuming, semi-public fingering, reader being called a whore (<3), cringy dirty talk, choking, squirting, Sunghoon as some sort of soft dom.
✦⋆ Masterlist here!
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
✦⋆✦⋆✦⋆✦⋆✦⋆✦
Quirophilia is an attraction to hands. Quirophilia as a kink can be someone who finds hands sexy; in order for a Quirophile to be sexually excited or even satisfied they would need to be looking at, being touched by or touching hands as an arousal point. (Source here)
✦⋆✦⋆✦⋆✦⋆✦⋆✦
You turned around and leaned against the bar counter, looking around the room. Everyone looked incredibly fancy in their expensive cocktail attire. You were your boyfriend’s plus one at the office gala, celebrating their 20th anniversary in the business. Also, Sunghoon just got a promotion, officially becoming a promoter after two years working as their best lawyer, which meant (at least for you two) a double celebration.
Your eyes scanned the hotel room, finding your lover standing in the middle of a few older men, keeping his social smile all the time. They were probably congratulating him for becoming a promoter at such a young age, and he pretended to believe they meant well. For you, Sunghoon was always astonishingly handsome, even when he woke up with crazy hair. But now, especially, wearing his black suit and his hair perfectly slid back, you could only think of flying across that hotel room and make out with him until your mouths fell off, right in the middle of these middle-aged men. Most of their wives were sitting together, stuck in a world you didn’t belong in, so you found comfort alone by the bar.
You drank two mojitos, lowkey staring at random people around that room, feeling a little light-headed. Ugh, you haven’t had a drink in months, for some reason. You couldn’t find why, though. You furrowed your eyebrows, now staring at the carpet beneath your scarpins.
— A penny for your thoughts? — Sunghoon said in a gentle tone, slowly approaching you. His right hand found its perfect spot right on your waist as you looked up to face him, facial expression still confused.
— I don’t know the last time I got drunk.
Sunghoon raised his eyebrows, finding you cute and funny.
— Guess that’s now, love.
You snorted, shaking your head. “I’m not drunk by drinking two mojitos, Sunghoon.”
— I heard you find me prettier when you’re wasted, so... — his head pointed towards the barman. — Knock yourself out.
You laughed, lowering your head in his direction, your free hand instinctively lying on his chest. His chest shook a little beneath your touch, which meant he was suppressing a laugh, now both of his hands on your waist.
— I’m not joking — he said, chuckling.
— Oh, please! — You said, now looking up to him. You placed your almost-empty mojito glass on the counter, placing both of your hands a little beneath his shoulders. — As if I needed booze to find you the prettiest man I’ve ever seen.
Sunghoon smiled bigger, partially shy, partially finding you funny.
— Sounds like you’re trying to get into my pants — he said in almost a whisper.
— You’re terrible! — You blushed, laughing a little louder than you should, right hand slapping his shoulder.
He smiled big, kissing your cheek right after.
— I still need to be a businessman for at least 40 more minutes, then the CEO will make a lame speech, and we’ll be good to go. Is that ok?
You nodded, eyes shining to look at his. You felt so proud of him.
— Take your time, baby. I’ll be right here, waiting for you.
— You’re the best — he whispered.
Sunghoon kissed your forehead and squeezed your waist quickly before walking towards the big crowd inside that room.
Just like you told him, you waited. You sat in one of the stalls by the bar and had three more drinks, feeling regret. Once the last one hit, your cheeks were flushed and your eyes were smaller than you wished. Your hair was in a low bun, so you let your hair down and tried to cover most of your red face with it. You also regretted your outfit choice, the high heels hurting your toes and ankles, the dress too tight for you to wear underwear (making you feel exposed), and the tightness of your dress showing your swollen belly after dinner (plus five drinks). Ugh, you kind of wanted that night to end, but you would never steal Sunghoon’s spotlight.
Instead of 40 minutes, Sunghoon took almost two hours before wrapping up with the important lawyers/judges of the company and reaching out to you. You were sitting down, hair a little messy, tossed to the side, head resting on your hand, the other hand playing with your straw on the empty glass.
— I’m so sorry — he mumbled, hugging you from behind. You straightened your bed, leaning under his touch. —It should have ended ages ago, but I couldn’t leave.
— That’s ok, baby — you responded. — You should enjoy tonight.
Sunghoon’s chin rested on your chin, your perfume intoxicating his airways. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeper.
— I enjoy spending my time with you, not with a lot of old men — he said. You scoffed. — Are you ready to go home?
— Yes, please.
— Alright, let’s go.
Sunghoon spun you on your stall until you faced him and offered his hands for you to hop down without twisting your ankles in those high heels. He intertwined your arms, giving you support as if you were weak and needed him to walk. Once you got out of the building, Sunghoon lent you his car keys and passed his left arm underneath your knees, supporting your back with the right arm.
— What are you doing? — You yelped.
Sunghoon laughed, lifting you in the bridal way.
— Taking care of my girl — he responded, simply. — You’ve been on your feet for hours; the least I can do is take you to the car.”
— So sweet — you mumbled, lying your head against his shoulder. Maybe because he was really a gentleman, maybe because you were drunk, or maybe because his digits held onto you with the perfect amount of firmness, you felt the intense need to kiss him at that moment. However, you didn’t.
You opened the car with the keys he handed you before, and Sunghoon managed to carefully slide you into the passenger’s seat. He pecked your lips before closing the door and walking towards his seat. You took your heels off, also raising a little the hem of your dress. It made you feel a little claustrophobic, not being able to move freely. You were pouting and trying to find a way to feel comfortable in your dress when Sunghoon closed his door, putting on his seatbelt.
— What’s wrong?
— I hated this dress.
— Take it off, then. — He joked, taking his jacket off and loosening his tie. Then, he tossed the jacket to the backseat and unbuttoned his sleeves.
— Can’t. — You mumbled. — I’m not wearing underwear.
Sunghoon stopped before turning the car on, staring at you with wide eyes.
— You’re drunk, aren’t you? — He laughed.
— No, why? — You mumbled, pouting.
— ‘Cause I was joking and you took it seriously, which means you’re about to get wasted.
You laughed dryly, shaking your head.
— Not drunk!
— Ok, fine. — He chuckled, beginning the engine. — We’ll be home soon, I’ll give you a hot shower, and you’ll feel like crap tomorrow.
— Yay! — You chanted faintly. You stopped, staring at him. — Yeah, I’m drunk.
He laughed out loud, the car slowly moving now. Within 30 seconds, you guys hit the road, Sunghoon with his right hand on the wheel and the left against his temple, elwbol lying on the side of the door. You couldn’t help but stare at him. Something about him looked so gorgeous, almost as if he wasn’t human.
— Like what you see? — He mumbled funnily, his left hand now on the wheel and his right hand reaching for your thigh. Being more specific, his hand landed directly on your skin, since you pulled your dress up once you were comfortable inside the car.
Your skin seemed to burn against his touch, eyes now focused on his hand. His slender fingers, soft skin, hot palm pressing your thigh... Your mind flew far away from you, picturing his hand drifting upwards, finding your pussy right there, almost exposed for him, and fingering you relentlessly. You tried to press your thighs together, squeezing his hand between them — he squeezed your flesh in return. You could feel you’d get aroused really quickly.
— You ok, babe? — He asked.
— Hm? — You mumbled, looking at him.
— You’re quiet. You’re never quiet when you drink.
— Hmmm... Thinking.
— Of what?
— You.
Sunghoon chuckled, shaking his head.
— Is that why you tried to suffocate my hand between your legs?
— No, it’s because I like them.
— You like your legs?
— I like your hands.
— Ah — he laughed. — What about them?
You blushed, throwing your head against the seat. You looked at him with side-eyes, pouting.
— They’re so pretty...
Sunghoon raised his eyebrows, surprised by the sudden confession.
— Your fingers are long, they look... majestic.
— Majestic? — he laughed. Sunghoon loved it when you got drunk.
— Mhm! — You nodded. — And they make me feel so good, Hoon...
Sunghoon stopped laughing, cleaning his throat.
— How’s that?
You blinked, stiffened, still pouting. At this point, how could you not get aroused? He basically asked you for it.
— You finger me so good — you said, almost in a cute tone. — And you choke me when I ask you to. And you make me cum by massaging me on the inside, it feels reeeeeeally good. And when you're wearing rings, they feel cold against my pussy.
— God — he mumbled, squeezing your thigh.
Sunghoon’s cock started to harden underneath his pants, and he started to look around. It was 2:46 A.M., and no one but you was driving by the interstate. The road was empty.
— Do you want to feel good right now? — he asked, voice raspy.
— I do — you mumbled, whiny. Sunghoon scoffed, turning the headlights off and pulling up to the side road.
Once the car completely stopped, Sunghoon turned the inside lights off, leaving the two of you in the dark. He pulled his seat all the way back, patting his thighs.
— C’mere.
You obeyed, pulling your dress up to your waist, your pussy completely exposed by now. “Oh yeah, the shamelessness of a drunken y/n”, he thought, smirking. You sat on top of his thighs, pussy against the fabric of his suit pants.
Sunghoon kissed you as if his life depended on it, tongue caressing yours with need. His hands roamed over your thighs, your ass cheeks, the inner portion of your thighs, everywhere but where you wanted them.
— Where do you want my fingers, baby?
— Inside of me — you whispered against his mouth, leaning your forehead against his.
Sunghoon scoffed, hands now caressing the covered portion of your body. Over the dress, he caressed your tits, pressing them against each other.
— What if someone passes by? If they pull the headlight on us, they’ll be able to see you like this.
— I don’t care — you said, shaking your head. Sunghoon wanted to laugh. You leaned in to peck his lips, over and over again. He allowed you to kiss him how you wished.
— My baby doesn’t care if someone sees her being a whore over her man? — You shook your head, now kissing his jawline. — You’re so good to me, aren’t you?
You whined against his skin, grinding down his crotch. Sunghoon was rock-hard already, but he didn’t care. You wanted his fingers; he was gonna give you them.
Slowly, his right hand reached for your clit, without hesitation. He slid his middle and ring finger all the way from your clit to your hole, collecting your arousal.
— You’re wet for me — he stated. — That’s so hot of you.
— That’s for you.
You whined, grinding against his digits now. He moved his fingers back to your clit, now wet from your juices. They slid easily against your bundle, making your breath hitch. His other hand reached for your neck, pressing the right spots.
— I know you like to put up a show for me. You’ll do it, right?
You nodded, letting out a moan in response.
— Will you moan for me, even though we’re in the middle of nowhere?
— Gosh, yes — you moaned as his fingers pressed your neck harder, the others still busy at a slow pace.
— Good girl.
He slapped your clit lightly, making you whine and jolt. He smirked, letting go of your neck to push your dress down, exposing your boobs. He massaged the flesh of your right boob roughly before leaning in to suck your nipple, holding you in place by your back. You moaned a little louder, back arching and shoving your boob against his face. He hummed.
Without a warning, his fingertips stopped caressing your clit and massaged your slit before sliding in all the way. You gasped, hands now holding hard against his shoulders. Sunghoon’s fingers curled inside of you, his motions of in-and-out constant, brushing against the spongy spot that made you see stars. His left hand moved to your back to your lower stomach, pressing it slightly. You whined.
— Oh, my God, please, Sunghoon — you moaned, non-stop. His fingers were quick, the wet sounds growing bigger by the second. — My God, my God, my God-
Sunghoon hummed against your nipple, teeth glazing around it softly. Without a warning, you came undone, squirting all over his expensive suit. He moaned at the sight, his hand never stopping his movements, trying to keep you going for as long as you could.
— Fuck, you’re so hot — he groaned. You collapsed on top of him, head lying against his shoulder. His fingers moved out of your vagina with a loud sound, his hand completely washed by your juices.
— Hoon — you mumbled, kissing his neck.
— Shhh, I’ll give you a minute to breathe — he mumbled, wet hand caressing your hair out of the way. — I’ll give you more of what you want.
❃ Pairing: HueningKai x afab!reader
❃ Word count: 1.9K
❃ Content warning: established relationship, consensual somnophilia, oral sex (f!receiving), protected sex!
❃ Note: moodboard by @aceorei. This post was originally posted by me in December 2023, about Woo Kyungjun (former TNX member). I rewrote the whole thing and decided to adapt to Hyuka, since I have a bigger affinity with TXT. Anyways, enjoy!
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
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Kai shuffled in bed around 2:30 a.m., sweating after a wet dream. With a sigh, he opened his eyes, facing the fluorescent stars you glued to your ceiling. He groaned, realizing he was hard as a rock, remembering his dream: you, rocking your hips on top of his, hair sticking to your forehead, mouth open, letting out the sweetest sounds.
He took a deep breath, looking at you. You were lying next to him, ass facing towards his torso. You weren’t exactly sexy, mouth slightly parted open, a little drool threatening to spill down your pillow, limbs awkwardly thrown around your torso. However, your (actually, his) shirt was rolling up, allowing him to see a little bit of the skin of your hip, right before the waistband of your satin shorts hugged your curves.
Well, he had three options: he could wake you up; he could jerk off, or he could... slip himself inside of you while you snored.
You and Kai were dating for over a year, and pretty much everything that could be discussed between the two of you, already been discussed. For example: doing anything in public? Big no! Slapping? As long as it isn’t on the face, why not? Somnophilia? ... he didn’t know.
“What do you mean by ‘I don’t know’?” you asked him. You found it cute, but kept your face straight, ‘cause you wanted him to know you’d take him seriously.
“I never thought of doing anything while you’re asleep”, he shrugged.
“Well... If we have the opportunity, we could try”, you answered him at the time. He smiled softly, even though by the end of that night, you’d try bondage. The memory made him wanna laugh.
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Slipping his hand under his pajamas, he grabbed his hard cock, hissing. As he stroked, he tried to picture your hand instead of his, but it just wasn’t the same. Once he realized that going to town on himself wouldn’t help, he looked at you, eyes big and shiny like a puppy asking for a pet on the head.
“Fuck”, he mumbled to himself. He slightly turned you on your back, analyzing the situation. You mumbled something incoherent under your breath, turning your head to his side and tossing your hand over your stomach. Your breasts were so soft right there, in front of him, nipples peaking through his oversized shirt. Usually, he wouldn’t be so turned on by your nipples showing a little; he wasn’t a teenager going through puberty, but now... he could only think of stripping your clothes and making you milk around him.
Knowing his shirt and your tiny shorts were the only things covering you, he slowly pulled the fabric up, holding your wrist in the air, and smirking once he got the full view of your breasts, able to lay your arm back on your skin. He hummed, pacing his fingertips around your soft skin, watching as you got goosebumps. He popped himself onto his elbow and, locking his eyes to your face, he kitten-licked one of your nipples, only to watch your breath hitch on your throat. He snorted, amused. Kai fought his urge to suck your tits and feel your soft skin pressed against his chin, knowing you’d wake up quickly.
Carefully, he kept caressing your skin with his fingertips, watching how the slightest stimulation made you shiver under his touch. Your skin reacted quickly, your nipples getting harder or softer as he reached the right spots for you. He learned that caressing the skin right beneath your boob made your nipples harder than he expected, peaking towards his face. You’d let out a frustrated hum now and then.
Carefully, he started to caress the skin beneath your belly button and thighs, right below your shorts. You shifted in place, thighs slightly contracted. Instead of pulling your shorts down, Kai decided to pull one of your legs towards his, taking the opportunity to pull the shorts to the side. He caressed your thigh with his open hand, squeezing the flesh lightly.
Kai licked his middle and ring finger before taking them towards your (now) exposed pussy. He circled your clit softly, making you turn your head a little. He smiled. Slowly, his fingers caressed your clit in circular motions, so softly you’d probably swear him if you were 100% on your senses.
“You’re so pretty”, Kai whispered, leaning in to lay his tongue flat against your nipple again. He just couldn’t help himself. You whined a little, eyes still closed. You were deeply asleep, still.
Impatient, Hyuka moved your body, getting up for a moment. Before plopping himself back on the bed, only this time right before your core, he admired you. Your hair everywhere, shirt up, shorts to the side... He wanted to take a picture of you, to keep that scene for him forever, but he wouldn’t afford the risk of someone else seeing it by accident on his camera roll.
He lay between your slightly open legs, properly opening them for him. He carefully placed his arms underneath your thighs, holding them tight. His hot breath hit straight to your core. He could smell how sweet you were for him. He smiled before adjusting the fabric with one of his hands, holding it away from your pussy while keeping your legs apart.
Kai licked a strip from your entrance to your clit, humming. Your breath got caught in your throat, but your eyes were nowhere close to open. He smiled, tongue now pointy against your hole. He slowly kissed your cunt, tongue caressing your hot slit, nose brushing against your clit. Your first proper whimper felt desperate, hands closing around the sheets.
His hands, while holding your hips, helped him to open your labia for him, giving better access to your core. Moving to your clit, he looked up. Your eyebrows were furrowed, your lips slightly apart, and your chest rising quickly. His cock twitched, and he (shamelessly) humped against the mattress, knowing a pool of precum would be stained on his pants.
With a grin, Hyuka wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking it slightly. You moaned, cheeks getting flustered. He started to lick your bud, tongue going zig-zag on your bundle of nerves, earning the sweetest meows from you. That sound would drive him insane.
Desperate, he checked your arousal. It was dropping, spread around your thighs. Good, you were wet enough for him. Smirking, he carefully let go of your thighs and got up. He was right, his pajama pants had a wet patch on the front, almost dampening the sheets, too.
Trying not to be loud, he walked around your bed, reaching for the nightstand. He sighed in relief when he realized you still kept a package of condoms at your place. He got one out of the box, taking a moment to look at you again. Walking to face your body on the mattress, he unmade the little loop that kept his pants adjusted around his waist, letting them pool around his feet. His tip was angry, hitting his lower stomach with a wet sound, precum smeared around it. He groaned, holding it by its base, applying a little pressure. Gosh, he couldn’t wait to fuck you.
Placing one knee on the bed, he slowly pumped his cock, eyes fixated on your body full on display for him. Once you shifted a little, adjusting your position, your breasts jiggled, and Hyuka smirked. He managed to put the condom on as fast as he could, eager to feel you around his shaft.
He hopped on the mattress, carefully pulling your body closer. He opened your legs again, holding them a little until your ankles supported them for him. He aligned his tip against your glistening folds, slowly pushing in. He groaned, feeling your walls choking his dick so deliciously. He bottomed out, groaning faintly. Your eyebrows were furrowed again, nipples hard against the cold air.
Slowly, Kai pulled out, only to align himself onto you and push his cock inside again, his hips slamming against yours a little harder than he intended. He knew you loved it when he fucked you slow and hard, so he settled his mind into it; every drag of his cock against your walls made you whimper in a quiet tone, back arching a little.
Kai was so turned on, feeling the rush of waiting for you to wake up, melting under his touch, drooling over the feeling of your clenched walls suffocating his cock, your tiny whimpers driving him over the edge. Gosh, he felt like a teenager losing their virginity; he could cum at any moment.
“K-Kai”, you moaned, eyes still closed shut. Your hands were gripping hard against the sheets, your body jolting violently at every thrust.
“Hm?”, he answered, groaning right after. You clenched around him, making him hold your hips harder.
“God”, you whined, winking before fully focusing your eyes on him. You couldn’t think of anything to say, your brain completely fogged by the pleasure.
“Were you dreaming about me?” he asked in a low tone, before adjusting one of your legs up.
“Fuck, yes”, you moaned, voice shaky. The knot in your stomach was tightening quickly, feeling overwhelmed by all of the pleasure your body received before your consciousness. “Ngh, Kaiii”, you whined.
Kai flexed his abdomen, knowing he’d cum soon. He realized your bed was pounding against the wall due to the force he put into his thrusts. Your face was red and you clenched non-stop.
“You wanna cum, love?”
“Yes, yes, yes, please”, you moaned.
He reached for your hand, placing it above your clit. You opened his eyes and he nodded, pace a little faster now.
“Go for it, love.”
You groaned, fingertips abusing your swollen clit. Differently from Kai, your hand moved fast, pressing your clit harder than Kai ever would. Once your orgasm washed over you, you gasped, unable to even moan. Your limbs went numb, and Kai loaded his cum inside the condom, twitching inside of you. With a few more thrusts, riding high, Kai carefully plopped himself on top of you before rolling to his side of the bed again.
The two of you breathed hard, unable to form complex phrases. Kai pulled your shirt down, covering your breasts again. His arms hugged your torso now, keeping you close to him.
“Wow”, you mumbled, hugging him back. “Guess you can risk that out of your sex bucket list.”
He chuckled, shaking his head.
“Was it ok for you?”
His question sounded a little funny, but you knew what he meant. Was it unpleasant? Did you feel somehow used or uncomfortable?
“Ok?” you asked with a snort. “You railed me in my sleep. I don’t think I ever came this hard before.”
Hyuka laughed, shaking his head.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I”, you said with a chuckle. “I hear a whistle in my left ear. I think you fucked me deaf.”
“God, shut up”, he mumbled with a soft chuckle. He started to pull his (now) soft cock out, and you whined.
“Keep it”, you mumbled, scooching in and kissing his neck. “Tomorrow we’ll risk cockwarming out of my sex bucket list.”
❥ I will not write anything erotic about any underage member and/or members that I don’t feel comfortable writing about.
❥ My requests are always open, but I can’t promise I’ll write anything fast. I have a bunch of things to do on a daily basis and writing is a hobby – not a priority yet.
❥ I will not write anything that goes beyond my own boundaries, for instance: anything violent, including explicit deaths/details of how someone died, or just messed up stuff like kidnapping. Please, be considerate.
✦⋆ Kinktober, day three: dacryphilia with Heeseung
✦ Word count: 3,5K
✦ Taglist: @tatikeu, @shhth, @isagistar, @ejfkdfls, @cutehoons02, @starry-eyed-bimbo, @hearts4h00n, @beaepa
✦ Content warning: swearing, cheating, slight hair pulling, oral sex (f!receiving), overstimulation (f!receiving), mentions of not having nipple sensitivy, hickeys, raw sex (ffs, wrap before you tap).
✦ Masterlist here
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
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Dacryphilia is a non-normative sexual interest that involves enjoyment or arousal from tears and crying.
✦⋆✦⋆✦⋆✦⋆✦⋆✦
You stormed in, slamming the door against the wall with a loud thud. Heeseung, one of the apartment owners, got scared, jumping onto the couch where he was sitting while playing video games.
— What the fuck? — he said, eyes wide.
You took off your shoes clumsily, shutting the door angrily behind you. You just walked past him, stomping your feet like a soldier. Heeseung paused his game and awkwardly ran after you when he noticed you opened your boyfriend’s room.
— Hey, hey, hey — he chanted behind you. — Jake’s not here.
— Oh, I know — you responded, voice shaking with anger. Heeseung leaned against the doorframe. You walked towards Jake’s closet, squatting to open the bottom drawer.
— Can I help you find something or...?
You sobbed, shaking your head. Heeseung avoided looking at you because you seemed to have forgotten you were wearing a miniskirt when you decided to go through his drawer in an Asian squat. You angrily pulled all of your clothes out of the drawer, laying them on the floor for now. You were crying and collecting all your crap, which means...
— This motherfucker cheated on me — you said, scoffing between your tears. — Not only did he cheat, but he thought it would be even better to be with my fucking best friend.
Heeseung let out a whistle, eyebrows raised while he stared at the ceiling. He didn’t mean to jinx your relationship with his friend, but he knew that would happen. At least, that’s how his last three relationships ended.
— I’m so sorry to hear that, — Heeseung said, genuinely. — Is there anything I can do to help?
— Probably not.
After digging for every gift you ever bought/made for him, you threw everything on top of your clothes. Then, you stood up and closed the closet door, leaning against it. You closed your eyes and lay your head against the wooden door, tears streaming down your cheeks. His deer eyes stared at you again.
— I’m not crying because I’m upset, I’m crying because I’m angry, and that’s how my body handles anger — you explained, wiping your tears.
Heeseung nodded, biting his bottom lip. He didn’t know you that well, but he didn’t buy that crap. You sighed, opening your eyes and wiping your face again. With a deep breath, you placed your hands on your hips and looked straight into Heeseung’s eyes.
— I recommend you leave this room, cause I am about to spread glitter on everything my eyes can find.
— What? — Heeseung laughed in disbelief.
— Yep, you heard me. He hurt me, I can’t hurt him back, so I’ll be a pain in his ass for... I don’t know, months?
By the end of your sentence, your eyes were filled with tears again. Slyly, Heeseung’s eyes ran you up and down. You were wearing a tight tank top underneath a loose cardigan and a mini skirt, the cardigan sliding down your shoulders as you moved to grab your purse on top of Jake’s bed – a purse that Heeseung didn’t notice you carrying in the first place. Something about you was ridiculously attractive to him in the moment, making him feel like a piece of shit.
As you leaned forward to open your purse and grab a bag of glitter, Heeseung noticed the curve of your ass being slightly exposed by the skirt, along with your eyebrows furrowed while you tried to keep your crying to yourself.
— Maybe — he started, voice raspy. He cleaned his throat, changing his position and standing up straight. — Maybe you could hurt him back.
— What? — You mumbled, looking at him, completely confused.
— You know, — he shrugged. — Cheat back.
You scoffed, shaking your head. You grabbed a second bag of glitter and placed both on his bed. Internally, Heeseung laughed.
— Yeah, I don’t think that would hurt him. At all. — You furrowed your eyebrows, thoughts running around your messed-up head. — Kissing a stranger wouldn’t begin to hurt him as much as it did to me when I walked on him and Eunbi on our couch, — you laughed dryly. — Either I’m gonna have to find another place to live or burn that couch. Do you have a pair of scissors, perhaps?
Heeseung looked at you, confused. You kept ranting for the next few seconds, Heeseung not absorbing a single word.
— Y/N, wait — he said, as gently as possible. — C’mon, let’s calm down.
He calmly walked towards you, placing both of his hands on your shoulders. He gently pressed them, trying to comfort you while pushing you down to Jake’s bed. He sat next to you, pulling his pants as far away as he could from his crotch.
— You’re clearly overwhelmed, take a deep breath — he instructed.
You tried to follow his instructions, heart sinking deep inside your chest. You shook your head, even though he didn’t say anything else, biting your lips and furrowing your eyebrows without noticing. Your eyes burned again, tears on the brim of falling down your cheeks, so you closed them and lowered your head.
— I… I can’t. — You mumbled, covering your face with both of your hands.
A loud sob left your lips, chest rising heavy with pain. Heeseung did the only thing he could think of: he embraced you, pulling you in for an awkward hug.
— That’s it, let it out, — he said, softly rubbing your back.
To be honest, you barely knew Heeseung. During those eight months you dated Jake, you had seen Heeseung around, especially because they are roommates, but you barely talked to him. You knew he was graduating in Economics, and he really liked to party, refusing to commit to a relationship. Other than that, every conversation you had was superficial, just to kill time until Jake was busy in another room.
Not knowing him did not stop you from hugging him back, placing your head on his chest. That took him by surprise; he never pictured himself having a long conversation with you, let alone hugging you.
— I lied — you mumbled between sobs, while Heeseung weirdly caressed your hair out of your face, afraid you’d suffocate in hair and tears. — I am upset. I feel betrayed, like- like- like… — you stuttered, hugging onto his t-shirt.
— Take your time, — he mumbled. He shifted weirdly on the bed, feeling overwhelmed as well, just for a different reason. Hearing your whiny voice, feeling tears wet his shirt, knowing just how vulnerable you were, PLUS the fact that you looked prettier than he had ever seen, made him slightly turned on.
— I feel like they’re showing me how little I deserve, — you mumbled, your chest literally hurting from the pain those words had.
Heeseung’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. How little you deserved? What the fuck was that supposed to mean?
— You don’t deserve little, Y/N. — He responded, serious. — You deserve a lot, the best.
You scoffed, drying your cheeks with the back of your hands while you slowly broke that pity hug apart.
— You don’t have to comfort me.
— I know. — Heeseung responded, voice low.
None of you said a word for the next five seconds; you just stared at each other. Heeseung slowly began to lean in, afraid he’d pass the limit. Not thinking, you also leaned in, face centimeters apart from his.
— What are you doing? — You mumbled, voice above a whisper.
— I want to comfort you — he said, leaning his forehead against yours. — Use me to hurt him back.
— I can’t. — You shook your head. — You’re his friend.
— So was Eunbi yours. — He whispered, not trying to twist the knife, just to prove a point. And it worked.
You killed the space between the two of you, connecting your lips with his. Usually, Jake always gave you gentle pecks before trying to slide his tongue inside your mouth, but Heeseung didn’t. His tongue massaged yours with precision, his big hand firm on your neck, almost supporting you in place.
He kind of wanted to laugh, because who would imagine he’d kiss you? Not him, obviously. Maybe because you were his friend’s girlfriend, he never noticed how pretty you were before. He never noticed you hot you looked in regular clothes, never wondered you were
Heeseung’s right hand found the nape of your neck, massaging your scalp with his digits, almost pulling your black strings; his left hand caressed your waist. Your hands found support on his torso, pulling the fabric of his shirt slightly.
You understood something was off when his lips moved to your chin, beginning to leave a trace of wet kisses down your jaw. You gasped when he gave your hair a gentle thud, only enough for you to lift your head and give him a more access to your skin.
— Heeseung — you whined, hand intertwined with his soft hair without noticing.
He pulled his face away from your neck, letting go of you entirely. He took a deep breath, eyes focused on the ground. You noticed Heeseung had a prominent boner showing against his grey sweatpants, which made your eyes grow wide.
— God, I’m sorry. — He said, shaking his head. — I- I don’t know what happened to me, I’m not that kind of guy.
Heeseung looked straight into your eyes, looking ashamed. Your puffy eyes and lips, reddish nose, and completely flushed cheeks were too much for him.
— What kind of guy? — You asked, staring him back.
— The guy who tries to take advantage of a vulnerable girl.
You scoffed.
— Minutes ago, you told me to hurt him back. To use you to hurt him back, by the way. — You reminded.
— Yeah, but if I kiss you one more time, I may go over the line. — Heeseung confessed.
— Jake fucked my best friend. Seems fair for me to do the same. — You said in a lower tone, heart hurting again. A single tear fell from your left eye, and Heeseung suppressed a whine, closing his eyes with force.
— I’m not his best friend. — He corrected, voice an octave higher. That’s when it snapped for you.
— You have a thing with girls crying, don’t you? — You whispered.
Heeseung’s cock twitched inside his pants, and he gulped.
— I don’t know.
You scoffed, leaning towards his direction. Heeseung’s mind went blank when you kissed him again, probably because you pushed him down onto Jake’s bed and straddled him.
— Wow, Y/N, wait-
— Heeseung, please. — You whined. Heeseung’s hands found a comfortable spot on your hips without his consent. — I’m so hurt right now, and you’re clearly turned on by that. Why are you pretending you’re not?
You pressed your clothed pussy against his hard cock, getting a shaky breath from him.
— I-I’m not turned on by your suffering. — He said, hands pressing your hips harder.
— Then?
He shook his head.
— I feel like I’m taking advantage of you. I already told you that.
— Ok, so I’m giving you a verbal consent to do so. — You said, moving your hair to the side and leaning in to kiss his mouth again.
Since you literally said the word “consent”, Heeseung allowed himself to enjoy the moment. That would probably cost his friendship with Jake — if Jake ever found out.
Not only did Heeseung kiss you back, but he also pressed you down, helping you rub against his groin. He groaned against your mouth before carefully switching positions with you. Your skirt rode up due to the abrupt movement; Heeseung’s hips now freely rubbing against yours. Heeseung pulled you towards the edge of the bed, spreading your legs and kneeling in front of you. You lifted your body, supporting your weight on your elbows.
— Heeseung — you whined.
He looked at you, keeping your thighs apart with his big hands. Not breaking eye contact, he rubbed his nose against your clothed core, humming to himself. You let out a shaky breath, not expecting this.
— You smell so good, — he mumbled. — I can only imagine how good you taste.
He kept rubbing his nose against you, feeling your arousal pooling against the thin fabric of your underwear. He licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit, still over the fabric, gaining a faint moan from you. He bit the waistband, pulling it down a bit with his teeth. He looked unreal.
— God — you mumbled. Heeseung chuckled, letting go of the fabric. His fingers quickly replaced his teeth, fully undressing you now.
He hummed to himself once he laid your panties on the floor, now using his hands to open your pussy for him, carefully separating your labia. You threw your head back, both from a bit of embarrassment and a hint of pleasure, as his fingers slightly stretched your bundle of nerves.
Before you could say anything, Heeseung licked your clit, slowly and deliberately. You moaned, looking at him again. His eyes were fixated on your face, looking for any facial expression of pleasure. Taking his time, Heeseung started making out with your pussy, lips sucking and kissing, tongue reaching your slit and dragging your arousal back to your clit. It was hard for you to keep your eyes open, the pleasure slowly building up in an unusual intensity.
— Oh, my God — you whined, hand reaching for his head. You took a few strings of hair out of his forehead before closing your fingers around them.
Your mouth seemed to be incapable of closing itself, always agape with soft noises leaving your throat. Heeseung was so hard beneath his pants, and you were so hot, unconsciously rubbing yourself against his face, he could cum untouched.
He gave a particularly harsh suck against your clit, making you pull his hair out of pleasure. He hummed, repeating it over and over again. Your cheeks became a hot pink when your moans got high-pitched.
— I’m gonna cum, oh my- Fuck, Heeseung! — You mumbled, hips shaking. Heeseung held you by your hips, making sure you wouldn’t squirm away from him. — Fuckfuckfuckfuck, Hee-
You came undone within seconds, kind of wanting to chuckle to yourself. No one has ever made you cum just by eating you out before; it always took at least a few minutes of fingering before a decent orgasm reached you. However, Heeseung didn’t stop.
— Nghhh, too much — you whined, trying to push his head away. That didn’t work. Heeseung kept licking and sucking your pussy; not only did he keep making out with your cunt, but you clenched hard when you felt two of his fingers massaging your entrance lightly. — I can’t — you moaned.
Heeseung scoffed against your clit before brushing his teeth lightly against it. You whined and he introduced his fingers in you, buried to their knuckles. He moaned, feeling how hard your velvety walls contracted against his digits.
— Oh, my God, Heeseung — you whined, really high-pitched. Your face was red and sweaty, eyes barely staying open, heart running so fast inside of your chest you thought you could pass out.
His fingers started to massage your walls, going in and out at a moderate speed, brushing against your G-spot every time they moved. It took him about five times, moving in and out, before you came again, moaning louder in a lower tone, pulling his hair as if your life depended on it. Despite your sensibility, Heeseung still fingered you for a few seconds, riding your second orgasm with you.
Only after that, he lifted his face, chin glistening because of your juices, fingers completely wet against the skin of your thighs. He wiped his face with the back of his other hand before leaning in to kiss you. Your hands were shaking as you reached for the nape of his neck, kissing him the best way you could.
— You good? — he asked, almost sounding like a joke.
You nodded, eyes hooded. He smiled, leaning towards your ear.
— You think you can give me another one? — You shook your head “no”, but Heeseung only laughed. — Really? That’s so sad. — He kissed your neck. — I was really hoping to see you come undone around my cock.
Your limbs felt like Jell-O, your heart was racing inside of your chest, and your clit was a little sore from the excess of stimulation, but your pussy clenched around itself when you thought of being actually fucked by Heeseung, on top of Jake’s bed.
— I… — you started. Heeseung’s right hand drifted from your thighs to your waist, squeezing it. Without any difficulties, his hand entered your top, massaging your skin before moving upwards to your ribcage. — I could try — you said, voice raspy.
Heeseung chuckled, kissing the spot beneath your ear, making the skin moist. His hand, on the other side, moved towards your boob, squeezing it lightly. You chuckled, pulling his hand to the top of it, so he could feel your hard nipple.
— I feel like I should warn you: I don’t really have sensitivity to them.
Heeseung sucked the skin on your neck repeatedly, squeezing your breasts even though you didn’t seem to care. He lifted his face, kissing your jawline.
— Can I still see them?
You laughed, nodding. You lifted your tank top with both hands, leaving your breasts full on display for him. His eyes seemed to shine at the view, not resisting to lower his head and suck one of them. Your left hand caressed his hair, allowing him to play with your nipple for a few seconds.
— Such a shame you don’t get turned on by them — he mumbled, more to himself than to you. — I could spend hours sucking your tits.
You chuckled, playfully tugging at his hair. Heeseung lifted his torso completely, observing you: you were lying on Jake’s bed, hair messy behind your head, cheeks flustered, neck marked by his lips, top up your clavicles, showing him your beautiful breasts, shirt risen, and pussy completely exposed to him. He moaned just by looking at you, hand traveling to his hard shaft. He squeezed his penis, groaning.
— I’m gonna go grab a condom, wait.
— Don’t. — You said. His eyes got big. — I’m on the pill. We can go raw.
He moaned alone again, quickly getting rid of his pants and underwear. You also suppressed a moan when you saw his angry cock hit against his lower stomach, tip red and glossy, his shaft full of veins, thicker than you expected.
— Are you sure about this? — He asked, opening your legs wider for him. You nodded, looking into his eyes. He grabbed his hard cock, tapping his head against your clit a few times. You whined faintly.
Without wasting time, Heeseung aligned his tip with your entrance, thrusting inside of you slowly, the stretch almost burning.
— Holy fuck — you moaned, eyes closed. Heeseung bottomed out in a few seconds, grabbing your legs to put your ankles supported on the edge of the bed, making you completely exposed to him.
— You’re sucking me in so good — he groaned, squeezing your thigh. Both his hands held your legs where he wanted, not giving you the choice of closing them. — You’re so fucking hot, oh, my God.
You moaned when he started moving, picking up his pace quickly. You didn’t know if it was because of the position or because he knew exactly what he was doing, but his tip abused your g-spot with every thrust, making the pleasure build up in your lower stomach quickly.
— My God, slow down — you moaned. — I’m gonna cum if you don’t.
Heeseung took that as a challenge, keeping his pace with force, his hips slamming obscenely against yours. Your moans never stopped leaving your mouth, eyes rolling past your eyelids.
— Hee- — you whined.
He slapped your clit a few times, triggering your third orgasm without a warning. You moaned loudly, back arching violently off the mattress. But, again, he didn’t stop.
— Heeseung, Heeseung, Heseung — you chanted. Tears started building up in your eyes again, not from pain, but from the overwhelming pleasure Heeseung was giving you.
No one has ever made you cum more than once, not even Jake. Your body was trembling, legs only up because he was holding them that way, tears running hot down your face.
— My God, you look so hot — he mumbled, thrusting harder.
You kept moaning without noticing, the feeling of orgasming never really fading away. Your pussy clenched nonstop against his cock, not taking much for him to come undone inside of you, milking you through his orgasm. His hot seed against your walls triggered another (and last) orgasm out of you, making your vision get a little blurry.
Heeseung slowly pulled out, watching his semen running out of your sore hole, humming at the sight. A little bit of it fell onto Jake’s bedsheets, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, only caring about you.
He plopped himself next to your limp body, slowly dragging your hair out of your face. He kissed your cheeks, marked by your hot tears.
— Did I hurt you?
— No, — You mumbled, voice almost gone. You cleared your throat, looking at him. — God, no. — You laughed.
He laughed along.
— Feeling better?
— Sore, but better. — You smiled. — I’m still spreading glitter around, though.
Heeseung laughed out loud, shaking his head.
— In case you feel like you need more revenge, call me.
— Sure thing — you chuckled. — Help me up, I think you broke me.
Heeseung ended up laughing, but a bit worried that he went over the line. By the end of the afternoon, he gave you clean towels, a gentle bath, and helped you to spread glitter all over Jake’s room. None of you cleaned his cum out of his bedsheets, so, just in case, he also started house-hunting.
✦ Word count: 4,6K
✦ Taglist: @tatikeu, @shhth, @isagistar, @ejfkdfls, @cutehoons02, @starry-eyed-bimbo, @hearts4h00n, @beaepa
✦ Content warning: making out, mastrubation (f!receiving), cursing, talking in the middle of it, laughing in the middle of it, penetration, protected sex, pet names
✦⋆ Masterlist here
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
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You hated the first times. Fortunately, Jungwon was your first everything. Your first best friend (thanks to your mom, whose best friend happened to be his mom), your first kiss, your first boyfriend… soon to be your first to have sex with.
The thing is… you’ve been dating for almost two months and neither of you has made the move. Jungwon barely kissed you with his tongue, his hands always placed at your waist, not a single slip. Was he being gentle and respecting your time, or just not sexually interested?
Saturday nights were officially your nights with him. He tried his best to take you out on cute dates, nice dinners, and calm walks down the Han River, but he also loved to invite you over for a movie night.
However, every time the two of you were alone in his house, you felt nervous, way too self-conscious and anxious, thinking anytime would be the time you were gonna have sex with him. You kind of felt like a pervert.
The clock passed eleven p.m. five minutes ago, and you were comfortably lying against Jungwon’s chest, between his spread legs, and locked in place by his arms around your torso. His chin was comfortably laid on your shoulder as the two of you watched Beetlejuice – it was one of your favorite movies, and your boyfriend had never seen such a masterpiece!
Well, technically, he wasn’t really watching it at the moment. Spring had just begun, and it was a little warmer than you’d like, so you felt comfortable enough to wear shorts and a tank top to your lover’s house. He tried his very best to keep his eyes on the screen, but he just found himself looking down at your cleavage, especially after he realized the top was bigger than your size, giving him a spoiler of your bare boobs beneath the thin fabric. It took him a lot of effort to stop thinking about you not wearing a bra and lying against his chest; it would be so easy for him to caress your breasts and make you squirm against him…
— I feel like you’re not paying attention anymore — you mumbled after getting no response for a funny scene that you knew would make him laugh. — Is everything ok?
You turned your head to face him, only to find his eyes closed.
— Oh, babe, are you tired? — You asked in a gentle tone, raising your left hand to caress his cheek. — We can watch it some other day, you can go to sleep.
He opened his eyes and lifted his head off your shoulder, smiling nervously.
— I’m not tired, love. Don’t worry.
— You don’t have to lie to make me feel better — you chuckled, fingers still caressing his soft skin.
Jungwon grabbed your hand with his, only to push it against his lips, kissing your palm gently. Your breath almost hitched, feeling a quick but strange wave of arousal down your belly. You didn’t know your hands were sensitive. Well, how would you anyway?
— I don’t lie to you. Ever. — he smiled.
Knowing you’d ask more questions, Jungwon moved quickly, pecking your lips and holding your hand against his while he hugged your torso again, making it almost impossible for you to move away from him. He pecked your lips repeatedly, making exaggerated smacking noises, only to make you laugh. He gave a longer peck before pulling away completely.
— What’s that about? — You laughed.
— You’re so pretty, it’s hard to control myself sometimes.
Jungwon leaned his forehead on yours, closing his eyes. His mind ran miles ahead of his control, just from having you so close. You felt the need to kiss him again, properly and deeper this time — so you did, carefully removing your arm from his embrace to place your hand right beneath his jawline. Jungwon fought the need to let out a satisfied moan when your hot tongue slowly caressed his bottom lip, asking for permission. He would never deny.
You absolutely loved it when Jungwon kissed you deeply and slowly, his movements precisely making you melt. Turns out, he also loved to be kissed by you like that. All of his blood seemed to be moving towards his dick, making his head spin. You made his head spin.
Your hand moved to caress his hair again above the nape of his neck, fingers intertwining between his soft strands. He groaned, eyebrows furrowed.
— Wait — he mumbled, pulling away suddenly. His firm grip loosened up, and he lay a little back against the couch cushions. Something in you just withered, looking at how serious he got. Eyes closed with unnecessary force, eyebrow frowned, lips glossy and as red as his cheeks. He seemed… angry?
— I’m sorry — you mumbled, returning your hands to sit on your lap. His eyes opened wide, confused.
— Why are you apologizing?
— I don’t know — you answered, voice almost like a whisper.
He chuckled. At the moment, you looked ethereal to him. Eyes glossy, cheeks flushed, chest rising fast, strings of your bangs messy. The innocence in your eyes made everything harder for him – especially his cock. Jungwon was about to lose his mind, but he knew too damn well that you were still a virgin; he couldn’t even think about fulfilling his needs without making sure you were well taken care of first.
— There’s no reason for you to apologize, baby. I’m just… trying not to make you uncomfortable?
— Why would I be uncomfortable? — You scoffed.
Jungwon got quiet, not knowing how to put it into words. He wanted to say: “well, because every time we kiss I think about fucking you dumb; because every time you run your fingers through my hair, I can only imagine myself buried between your legs and your hands pulling my hair because you’re feeling good; because I spent forty minutes forcing myself to pay attention to Michael Keaton instead of paying attention to your ass glued to my crotch and your cleavage being the first thing to catch my eyes when I looked down.”
— Wonnie?
— It’s… harder than you think — he sighed. Something in him wanted to laugh at his subtle pun.
— Why?
— Y/n… — he whined, closing his eyes and throwing his head back. — I just don’t know what to do with you.
— You can do anything you want — you smiled.
Jungwon knew what you meant. He knew you meant that you trusted him, that he could say anything, that you would be there for him. But, at the moment, he could only think of how hard he was, his dick throbbing with precum just to hear that damn phrase out of your lips. He would need to keep a pillow between the two of you, because if you lie against him again, you’d feel his hard against your back.
— Don’t say that — he mumbled, his pupils dilating.
— Why?
— ‘Cause I may want to do stuff I can't undo later.
Your heart beat harder and your cheeks got bright red. You knew what he meant — now would be the time.
— You can do anything, Wonnie — you said again, voice only above a whisper.
That was the green light Jungwon needed. He leaned forward to kiss you again, lips soft and tongue hot against yours. He kissed you deeply, with an intensity you never felt before. His hands, instead of keeping you glued to him in a bear hug, were now on your waist. They caressed the flesh softly, slowly pulling the fabric of your top up, wanting to touch your skin.
His lips left yours, and Jungwon sat straighter against the cushions, pulling you closer by the hips. His hands were firm, and he glued your ass to his crotch, your cheeks getting hotter by the second after you felt his hard on against you.
You lay your head against his shoulder, somewhat embarrassed and amused at the same time. You made him turn on? Damn.
Jungwon’s hand brushed your hair off your shoulder, and his lips found your skin as he kissed the base of your neck. His hands now caressed your tummy softly, just by passing his fingertips against your skin, and his lips moved upwards. You gasped when he kissed the skin beneath your ear, making him grin. Imagining he found a sweet spot for you, he sucked the skin lightly, only to see your reaction. Your breath got heavier, and you suppressed a mumble, tilting your head to give him more access.
— You like that? — he mumbled against your skin, grinning. You shook your head, eyes closed harshly. — Talk to me, babe. I want to hear your voice.
— I-I do — you mumbled, cleaning your throat right after.
— There’s no need for you to be embarrassed — he whispered directly in your ear. — But please tell me if you want me to stop.
— I don’t want you to stop — you whispered back.
He smiled, pecking your cheek.
— May I? — he asked, holding the hem of your tank top. You nodded. — Words, please.
— Yes, Wonnie.
The fabric was heavy, almost too warm for a tank top. He was doing you a favor to take that (mostly) out of you! He lifted the piece of clothing to your clavicles, humming.
Your boobs were so beautiful for him, nipples hard and pointy, practically begging for him to take them in his mouth. His warm hands caressed your ribcage and grabbed your boobs from underneath, squeezing them softly.
— So pretty —, he mumbled to himself. — You were made just for me, hm? — he asked rhetorically, placing his whole hands on your boobs, smashing your nipples against his palms and squeezing the flesh a little harder. You held back a moan. — No, no, no, baby. I want to hear you, hm? Please?
You opened your eyes, looking towards him. Jungwon looked different; his aura had completely changed. His eyes were darker, cheeks slightly flushed, and a smirk that killed you.
— I’ve been dreaming about this moment for so long, I want to hear how good I’m making you feel, hm?
You nodded, holding your hand against his jaw again. You softly pulled him to kiss his lips, moaning against his mouth when he squeezed your flesh again. Jungwon held back a groan.
When Jungwon started to focus on your nipples, rubbing, circling, and even pinching them lightly, you lost the ability to kiss him properly. You popped your head back against his shoulder and closed your eyes, lost in the feeling. Jungwon couldn’t help but smirk.
Your hands tried to hold the couch, but the fabric wouldn’t allow it, so you tried to hold Jungwon’s thighs, spread around you. Your fingers wrapped timidly around his sweatpants, and he scoffed, pinching your nipples harder. You tugged the fabric and arched your back at the feeling, letting out a faint moan. His cock twitched.
— Are you having a good time, baby? — he asked, trying to sound gentle, but he only sounded aroused, extremely horny. He squeezed your boobs again, fitting perfectly in his hands.
— Yeah — you mumbled.
— Are you wet for me?
You felt your cheeks hot again, embarrassed. Jungwon placed a kiss on your cheek, his hands caressing all the way down your shorts. When his fingers brushed the spot beneath your belly button, you felt nervous and held harder against his pants.
— I’m gonna need you to tell me, do you want me to touch you?
Despite his horniness, he sounded genuinely concerned. He wanted to make sure you were all in because you wanted this too, not because he was thinking with his little head.
— I do, Won — you mumbled. He took his hands off your belly, placing them on top of yours. Your grip loosened. — I’m just embarrassed — you admitted.
— Oh, love — he mumbled, softly. — You don’t have to be embarrassed by me, ever. I just want you to feel good.
It was kind of funny to him; his words were as nice as he could find, but his dick was throbbing, slightly pressed between his clothes and your weight against him. Ignoring his own manhood, Jungwon brought one of your hands towards his lips, kissing your fingers. You felt arousal pooling down your panties, expecting to be touched.
— But you know, just say the word and we’ll stop.
You shook your head. — I don’t want to stop.
— Ok, I’m just reminding you.
He placed your hand back on his thigh and brushed your hair out of your neck again, only to give it a quick kiss. He noticed the ends of your bangs glued to your forehead because of the thin layer of sweat. He found it adorable. He had barely begun doing what he wanted to do with you, and you were already sweating and squirming for him. Because of him.
Both his hands found their way to your shorts, unbuttoning them quickly. He just pulled the zipper downwards and caressed the skin right above your underwear again. His fingertips moved slowly, in a light touch, caressing the upper part of your genitalia.
— Is this ok? — he asked, voice lower than he intended.
— Yes.
He hummed, fingers lowering more. His middle finger brushed right above your clit, so lightly it made you frustrated for a split second. He only applied a little more pressure when he felt your underwear damp; his middle and ring fingers pressed right down your hole, feeling the arousal soak through the fabric.
— Did I make this for you? — he purred.
— Won… — you mumbled. He smiled, bringing his hand back to the hem of your underwear. You felt embarrassed for not buying sexy lingerie, not knowing Jungwon couldn’t care less about clothing at the moment.
— Wait.
He started pulling your shorts down, and you helped by lifting your body a little so he could slide the piece of clothing out of you. Still with his legs straightened on your sides, Jungwon tapped them both.
— Can you spread your legs for me?
Feeling way too shy, you obeyed, placing your ankles next to his knees. He lifted his ankles, making you get off the couch. He kissed your jawline, trying to make you as comfortable as possible, knowing you felt exposed.
— Just relax, I want you to feel good.
You nodded, eyes closed again, as his hands caressed your lower stomach again. Within seconds, his right hand entered your underwear, while the left moved all the way to your left boob. At the same time, he squeezed the flesh, his middle and ring fingers went straight to your arousal, covering themselves on it. You gasped softly, and Jungwon hummed, sounding happy. Jungwon rubbed your slit, slimy fingers entering a few millimeters of your hole and pulling out again, massaging the area.
Your first real moan was out when his fingers found your clit and applied a little bit of pressure, circling it in a slow rhythm. He literally felt his underwear wet, precum sliding down his tip after hearing your whiny voice. Jungwon kept massaging your breast and your clit at the same time and pace, slowly but firmly, getting a few more moans and whimpers from you.
— Feels good?
— God, yes!
Your cheeks felt like they were burning, not because of the shame anymore, but because of the pleasure building up inside of you. Jungwon kept purring in your ear, satisfied to see you like that. His left hand let go of your boob and held your jaw softly, turning your head towards his. Once you did, he kissed you, hand still working on your clit – only a little faster. Your breath hitched, and your mind got foggy, not being able to kiss him back again. He chuckled, stopping his movements on your bundle of nerves.
Before you could whine, he slid his fingers through your slit again, collecting your wetness and then sucking them. You moaned at the sight, clenching your pussy around nothing.
— Wonnie… — you purred. He smirked, pecking your lips right after.
— Can't wait until I finally get to eat you out — he whispered, as if it was a secret.
His (now) saliva-covered digits found their way back to your pussy, pushing your panties to the side, slowly entering your hot hole. You moaned, closing your eyes again. He found it amusing how you seemed to be already out of your mind.
Enjoying the moment, he took his time to finger you slowly, feeling your gummy, warm walls strangling his digits. The wet noises every time he pushed his fingers all the way in, plus your soft moans, were driving him over the edge.
When your moans got high-pitched and your walls clenched harder against his fingers, Jungwon smirked. — You’re about to cum, aren’t you?
You nodded, eyes closed and mouth agape. Your hands held his thighs strongly without you even noticing. You lost the very last drop of consciousness when his left hand reached for your neglected clit. With his fingertips abusing your g-spot and your clit simultaneously, you lasted about five seconds before bursting out, moaning his name like a mantra. You squirmed and tried to push his hands away when you got too sensitive, making him chuckle.
— You good? — he asked funnily. You laughed, covering your face with your hands.
— I’m good.
— Good — he repeated, kissing your hand before pulling it away from your face. Then, he kissed your cheek.
You could still feel his twitching cock against you, knowing he would probably be desperate to cum as well. You closed your legs again, only to take off your top (finally, you pretty much forgot about it until now) and turn around and kiss him on the lips, hands holding his face with care. He held you by the waist, hands firm and warm against your bare skin.
Jungwon didn’t say a word while your right hand slid down his torso and stopped by his groin, slightly caressing his hard, clothed dick.
— Babe — he moaned, separating your mouths. — You don’t have to do anything.
— But I want to — you responded, kissing his red lips again. He groaned between kisses, pressing your hand against himself. Feeling the outline of his cock, you wrapped your hand around it, rubbing it clumsily. — I… I don’t really know what to do, but I want you to feel good — you admitted, blushing.
Your lack of experience made everything even more amusing for him. There you were, in his house, half naked on his couch, basically asking him to teach you how to make him feel as good as he made you feel. He groaned, slightly bucking his hips against your hand.
— Do what you feel like doing, love — he said in a lower tone, putting a strand behind your ear.
You sighed, looking him straight in the eyes. You pouted.
— What? — he smiled lazily, tilting his head.
— I want you to fuck me.
The boldness of this phrase took him off guard, making his eyes widen.
— What’s up with that stamina, huh? — he joked, making you groan out of embarrassment. You palmed your face with both hands before leaning against his leg, trying to reach for your top lying on the floor. He laughed out loud, holding your torso to stop you from reaching it. — I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’m just trying to light up the mood!
— Do you feel the need to lighten the mood? — You asked, confused.
— Yeah, so I don’t get time to think about everything I wanna do with you.
Without another word, Jungwon moved quickly, wrapping his arms beneath your knees and your back, getting up from the couch. You let out a small scream, not expecting this.
— What are you doing?!
— Making your wish come true — he scoffed, walking towards his bedroom. You only held him by the neck, hiding your face.
He carefully placed you on his bed, almost as if you were made of glass. He kissed your forehead and reached for his nightstand, opening the last drawer. Once he picked up a condom package, he stood up. You propped yourself on your elbows, looking at him attentively. He opened the package and pulled both his pants and underwear down, finally letting his cock free. You blushed, eyes instinctively looking at his genitalia. His tip was red, glistening because of the amount of precum he leaked, leaving a wet patch on his lower stomach.
Jungwon placed one of his knees on the bed and opened the package, pretending he didn’t notice you were focused on his hard cock. He stroked himself a few times, leaving out a hard breath, before putting the condom on.
He hopped back on the bed, your legs instinctively opening for your lover to position himself on top of you. When his face reached your level, you kissed him eagerly, almost hugging him by the neck.
He smirked, one of his hands pulling your leg by the knee, allowing him to rub his hard cock against your clothed pussy. His chest was practically glued against yours, the feeling of his silver necklace cold against your hot skin.
— You’re gonna be the death of me — he whispered against your lips before making his way to your neck again.
Letting go of your knee, his hand caressed your thigh until reaching your ass, giving it a harsh squeeze; it surprised you. Jungwon never used any kind of force with you before. Still sensitive from your previous orgasm, that made your stomach tight with a wave of arousal again.
— Can I take these off? — he asked against the skin beneath your jawline while softly pulling the fabric of your underwear.
— Please —, you said in a shaky tone.
He stood up on the mattress quickly, carefully pulling your panties towards him. They had a wet stain on them, which made you embarrassed. It made him satisfied.
Carefully, he separated your legs again, finally appreciating you fully naked in front of him. Your cheeks and chest were tinted in a hot pink, a thin layer of sweat over your body, your boobs perfect, nipples hard for him again; your pussy was glistening, showing him just how aroused you got.
— You’re so beautiful.
You blushed, lying fully back down. He propped himself on top of you again, hand going straight to your pussy. He carefully spread your labia, fingers dancing against your slit again. He spread your wetness around your pussy, humming while doing it.
— Tell me if you want me to stop — he said, serious. You nodded before kissing his lips quickly again.
He stroked his shaft a couple of times before aligning his tip with your vulva, slowly pushing in. The stretch wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. You frowned, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Jungwon was biting his bottom lip hard, almost enough to draw blood, his cock now halfway through. He stopped, sighing.
— Is everything ok? — he asked, voice shaky. You nodded.
It wasn’t exactly painful, more of… uncomfortable. Some of it stung, burning a little, but it wasn’t pain. He didn’t move, so you looked at him. You saw in his face a mix of preoccupation and pleasure, feeling too good but still worried about your well-being.
— You can keep going — you said, sincerely. Your voice was low, but genuine.
He nodded, kissing your lips again. His tongue moved slowly against yours, matching the rhythm of his hips. Before he could bottom out, his tip brushed against your cervix, which hurt a little, making you whine.
— I’m sorry, I’m sorry — he said, kissing your cheek repeatedly and pulling out a little. — Just tell me and we’ll stop.
— No, no — you said. — I promise you, I’m fine. I’ll tell you if I want to stop.
He only nodded again, lips glued to your jawline right after. In a few seconds, his hips moved back really slowly. When he started to move forward again, the burn was still there, until his lips sucked the spot between your jaw and your earlobe. You never thought that combining a hickey with his cock brushing against your insides would give you such a good sensation. You moaned slyly, giving him another green light.
Your walls were sucking him in as he moved slowly, almost torturing him. He wanted to keep a steady pace, knowing it must be hurting you, but his real intentions were to lose his mind and rut you like an animal.
— Gosh, you feel so good around me — he moaned against your skin, biting it lightly. You clenched around his shaft, making him groan. — Don’t do this, or I won’t be able to control myself.
— You can go faster — you said, left hand caressing his soft black hair.
He parted and he moaned while his hips increased the pace. He knew too damn well he would never perform like a porn actor, but fuck, he wanted to last more than a minute and a half! Wanting to at least have you over the edge like him, his free hand (not supporting his weight on top of you) circled your clit, pressing it just enough for your moans to get louder.
He felt you clenching non-stop, suffocating his cock inside of you, his orgasm not far from exploding. In a matter of pride, Jungwon managed to put one of your nipples inside of his mouth, sucking it before scraping his teeth lightly around the bud. He got exactly what he wanted: you came undone without a warning, nails digging into the flesh of his biceps. With his hips rhythmically banging against yours, he let go of your boob, still rubbing your clit to make sure you’d ride your high.
— Fuck, I’m gonna cum — he announced, burying his head on your neck, moaning against your skin. He orgasmed within seconds, drool almost pooling out of his open mouth. After his last spout filled the condom, he fully pulled out, carefully, before throwing himself on the bed next to you.
His hands were shaky and his forehead wet with his sweat, making his hair stick to his skin. He carefully pulled you to lie on his chest, hugging you sideways. Jungwon’s hands caressed your arm up and down, but his eyes were still closed and his eyebrows a little furrowed. You chuckled, passing your nose by his jawline.
— Jesus Christ — he mumbled, holding you closer. You laughed, placing your leg on top of his and comfortably closing your eyes. You lay your head back on his chest, caressing his chest. — Are you ok?
— I am — you said, truly. You felt a little sore, vulva still burning a little, but, honestly, you’d do it all again. — Are you ok?
— If I’m ok? — he laughed. — Y/N, I’m a little light-headed, even.
You laughed back, hugging him.
— I have waited so long to have you like this… — he said, now staring at the ceiling. — I’ll give you a few days to prepare before showing you everything we’ve been missing.
Author’s note: this is a silly thing I wrote before sleeping last night. This is the kind of scenario that comes to my mind when I listen to GOT7s Before The Full Moon Rises (Just Right, 2015).
moodboard by @coqiito (thanks a lot!)
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너와 함께 있으면 시간이 너무 빨라
When I’m with you, time goes too fast
밥 먹고 차 마신지 얼마 안된 것 같은데
It hasn’t been long since we ate and drank tea
벌써 열한시반 지하철 막차 시간이 가까워져 난 너무 아쉬워
But it’s already 11:30, getting close to the last train, I’m so sad
“I can’t deal with you”, I said, wiping a tear away from my cheek. Jungwon and I have been talking so much for the past hour, that my cheeks started hurting from the laughter.
“I mean it!”, he replied, still laughing. “I could never think I’d walk into Heeseung baking naked in our kitchen, I mean-” he chuckled again. “Who the fuck wears an apron? Just an apron?”
I laughed, shaking my head. He sighed, almost like puppies do when tired – even though they do nothing. Jungwon reached for his phone inside his pocket.
“Damn, it’s already 11:30 pm.”
I looked around the convenience store we’d been in for the past… three hours. Honestly, I lose my sense of time when I'm around him.
“Geez, I have so much to do back home”, I mumbled, stretching my back.
“Same,” he scoffed with a smile. His hand reached for mine. “C’mon, I’ll walk you home.”
“Aw,” I pouted. “You’re the best.”
Our fingers intertwined and we walked out of the store together. The spring was just around the corner, making the wind blow a little warmer during the day, but still cooler during the nighttime. He placed our hands inside of his pocket, making me smile along.
I wish 너의 집이 조금 더 멀었으면 좋겠어
I wish you lived a little farther
너를 바래다 주던 그 길이
Taking you home feels so short
너무도 짧게 느껴져 조금만 더 너와 함께 걷고 싶은데
When I wanna walk with you a little more
“Ah,” he sighed, looking down. “I wish you lived farther, so I could walk with you for a little more time.”
I felt my cheeks getting flushed as we stopped in front of my house. I so wanted to invite him in, but I knew he would wake up super early in the morning. Instead of saying anything, I let go of his hand and placed my arms around his waist. My head fell onto his broad shoulder and I tilted my head to smell his cologne. My cold nose touched his warm neck.
“I wish you could stay”, I muffled against his skin.
“Me too, darling”, he sighed and hugged me back. I couldn’t see his face, but I knew he was pouting. “C’mon, get inside. It’s getting colder and I don’t want you to catch a cold.”
우리 헤어져야 하는 시간
It’s time for us to say goodbye
너를 집에 보내야 할 시간
It’s time for me to take you home
어김없이 매일 찾아오는 이별의 순간
This time to separate comes every day without fail
뒤도 돌아보지 말고 나 변하기 전에 어서 집에 가
Don’t turn around and hurry home before I change
내 안에 늑대가 깨어나기 전에
Before the wolf in me awakens
“You know”, I said, looking up. My eyes met his and I was right. He was pouting. I took a quick look at his soft lips before pecking them; he smiled right away. “It’s not the cold wind that makes you sick.”
“Hmm, what is it then?”, he said smiling.
"Extreme temperatures can harm the cilia inside our tracheas, making them stop. Cilia is almost like a hair-like structure that keeps moving mucus around. Once the cilia don’t work, the viruses don’t get caught on them and enter our bodies.”
“Gosh, my girlfriend is so smart”, he said softly, leaning in to kiss my lips. I held him by the neck and kissed him again before letting go.
“Let’s meet again after class tomorrow?” I asked.
“Absolutely”, he responded. “Now go, babe.”
jungwonie 🐱: just got home
you: good :)
you: i was getting worried
jungwonie 🐱: why? lol
jungwonie 🐱: u know im a beast, no one could ever harm me on the streets
you: beast? LMAO
jungwonie 🐱: never wonder why i drop u off earlier sometimes?
jungwonie 🐱: i gotta ditch u before the full moon rises
you: otherwise ur carriage turns into a big ass pumpkin?
jungwonie 🐱: ¿?¿?¿?
jungwonie 🐱: im saying i became a werewolf and u just called me cinderella
jungwonie 🐱: also, her carriage turns into a pumpkin AT MIDNIGHT not bcs of the full moon
you: LMAOOO THATS RIGHT
✴ Word count: 0,8K
✴ Content warning: nipple play, nipple piercings, nipple orgasm.
✴ Taglist: starsareseen, lucid-sombra, enha13, karinashairdryer, kim2005bomi, hyunj00, lunathewritingcat, onima-chan
✴ Mimi's note: this one is quite short, however, I feel like no one really talks about the possibility of finishing just by this kind of stimulation so... yeah?
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
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“Oh, my God, I missed you so much!” Yeonjun mumbled against your hair, holding you the closest he’d ever had.
You giggled, holding his neck tighter as well. Your boyfriend’s been out for three months, touring with his group mates. Unfortunately, you couldn’t leave your classes behind to go with him, so you had to wait for him.
His suitcases were thrown all over the living room floor, and he held you in his arms ‘cause you ran all the way from the bedroom when you heard the electronic doorknob. You missed him from the bottom of your heart.✴✴✴“You know what else I missed?”, Yeonjun asked, entering your shared bedroom, nothing but a towel hanging onto his hips and water drops down his torso. “Our shower head. And our bathroom. And our house. Gosh, staying in hotels is awful.”
You nodded, lying down on your bed. You couldn’t help but smirk and run your eyes across his toned body. He turned around to look for his clothes and you whistled when he dropped the towel to put on his underwear. Yeonjun let out a big laugh.
“Are you a perv or something?”
“Maybe. Or maybe I just really missed your tooshie.”
He laughed again, turning around to walk towards the bed. He hung the towel on the doorknob, and you decided to ignore it for a while; he’s been out for so long that you didn’t even feel like scolding him. Yeonjun laid down next to you, the body still a little wet, and you raised your hand to caress his hair.
“I did something thinking of you”, you said quietly, barely whispering. “You would’ve seen it earlier but you decided to skip showering with me.”
“First: I didn’t decide to skip it. I was on the phone with my manager”, he said, whining. “Second: if I would have only seen it in the shower, it means I’ll love it.”
You chuckled, sitting in the bed. His eyes followed you, but his body was still laid in a floppy way. With no words, whatsoever, you raised your baggy t-shirt, revealing not only your underwear but your bare tits. And your new piercings.
“Holy fuck”, he said almost in a groan, raising his body by his elbow. “Can I touch them?”
“Sure. They’re pretty much healed by now.”
With care, Yeonjun’s fingertip brushed against your nipple, which became so much more sensitive after getting pierced. He slowly dragged his fingertip towards the steel bar through your flesh, feeling the cold metal.
“You’re so hot, holy crap”, he mumbled, leaning in closer. You knew what he was about to do, so you leaned your body forward so he could finally attach his lips to your other nipple.
The two of you had sex for the last time the day he left for his tour, so both of your bodies were aching for each other. His lips circled your hard nipple as his hot tongue brushed against it slowly, along with the stimulation he provided with his hand on your right breast. You closed your eyes and grabbed a fistful of his hair, feeling it a lot stronger than you did before piercing them.
“You’re so good at this”, you said between two deep breaths, sounding ridiculously pornographic. Yeonjun could feel his dick hardening.
He left both of your nipples unattended for a second, only to bring you back to your original position: laid down. He placed his body glued to yours before flicking his tongue against your hard nub countless times.
“Jesus, Yeonjun”, you moaned, eyes closed.
“You did this for me, didn’t you?” he asked, his right hand rubbing your left nipple slowly.
Your face was a bright tone of red, your forehead became sweaty pretty quickly, and your panties were sticking. If you knew you’d be this sensitive just from getting piercings, you would’ve done it so much earlier!
“I did”, you nodded, breath uneven. “All for you.”
His mouth got attached to your right nipple again, this time sucking it. You felt such a strong wave down your core that you barely came.
“Oh, my God, don’t stop”, you moaned, hand back to his silky hair. Without noticing it, you grabbed it harder, making him moan and vibrate against your tit. “Don’t stop, please, please, please”, you mumbled between moans.
Yeonjun would never stop you from getting your pleasure, so he kept sucking one of your nipples and stimulating the other one. Within seconds, you came, seeing white.
Yeonjun let go of your breast with a pop, smirking. “Are you serious? You just came?”, he asked quietly, voice deeper than usual.
“Fuck, yes”, you said, breathless.
“Damn, I didn’t know you could do that”, he said almost musically. “Let’s see if you can do that again.”
Before you could stop him, Yeonjun’s body was diagonally over yours – and his lips now attached to your other nipple.
Your night would last forever (and unfortunately, your neighbors’ too).
✴ Word count: 2,2K
✴ Content warning: obvious cuckolding, Heeseung being paid to have sex with y/n, protected sex, nipple play, m!masturbation, fingering (f!receiving), voyeurism, exhibitionism, vaginal sex.
✴ Taglist: starsareseen, lucid-sombra, enha13, karinashairdryer, kim2005bomi, hyunj00
✴ Mimi's note: for the sake of this plot, I mentioned Just B’s Geonu. Only Bs out there, please wait a bit and I’ll write for them!! Also, don’t sue me <3
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
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Heeseung took a long puff and threw the cigarette by the road, exhaling the white smoke. The nighttime had begun, and so had his shift.
He walked slowly towards the gate surrounding the house he’d work tonight, fixing his hair before pressing the doorbell. It took around 20 seconds before the man opened the door, clearly a little shy.
“Hi. You must be Heeseung.”
“Yeah, you’re Geonu, right?”
With a nod, Geonu opened the door for you to walk inside. “Come in, y/n’s in the kitchen.”
Heeseung always felt nervous before a shift, even though he’s been doing it for almost two years. He took his shoes off, walking a little timidly towards the tiny kitchen.
“Hi”, he smiled, waving. You were looking for something to eat in the fridge, anxious to wait for Heeseung’s arrival.
“Oh, hi”, you said, raising your head abruptly. You closed the fridge door, indicating the dining table with your hand. “Please, sit.”
With a nod, Heeseung sat down, placing his shoulder bag on his lap. He took an envelope out. You and Geonu took your seats across from Heeseung, not sure what to do or say.
“Ok, so… before we get started, I must say a few rules”, Heeseung started. “I’ll tell you the basics, but it’ll be all detailed here on this contract.”
Geonu raised his eyebrows, surprised. He didn’t think such a thing would have so much… Detailing.
“First: I will not, under any circumstances, do anything without protection. I do have a copy of my latest medical exams in case you want to check, but either way, this is off the list.”
The two of you nodded and you felt relief. You never had unprotected sex with your boyfriend, let alone the guy you paid to have sex with you. You took the contract out of the envelope, shaking a little.
“Second: do not give you guys permission to record anything out of our session, not even voice notes. I will also not let any of my electronic devices around us, you can be sure your privacy will be protected”, he said, waiting as you and Geonu tried to read everything on that piece of paper. “Third: we need a safe word, which must be settled beforehand. Fourth: once the payment is done, it is done; I will not reimburse you if you decide to back down.”
Heeseung gave you and your boyfriend a few seconds to read all of the rules he set on the contract. You seemed ok with it – and so did Geonu.
“Do you guys have any questions or requests?”
“I do”, you said, timidly. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t want to be kissed.”
“Anywhere or on the lips?” Heeseung asked seriously. The question itself made your cheeks and ears burn hot.
“On… the lips”, you responded in a quiet tone. Geonu wanted to laugh, finding you cute. “Also, no pet names.”
“Got it. Mr. Geonu?”
“We’re probably around the same age; can’t we cut the formalities?” Geonu asked, smiling awkwardly. Plus, you’re about to fuck my girlfriend, he thought.
“Yeah, sure. Do you have anything to say?”
Geonu pouted and you held his hand behind the table, squeezing it. If he wanted to back out, you’d be fine with it.
“Nah, I’m curious about one thing. If she wants to stop in the middle of it, would it be ok?”
“Absolutely”, Heeseung nodded. “Just no reimbursement.”
“Alright. Now, do you guys have a safeword you’re used to?”
“Not really, the good old “stop” usually works”, you shrugged.
“May I suggest the word red to be our safeword just for the night?”
“Yeah, it’s fine”, you said. Geonu nodded.
✴✴✴
Twenty minutes later, the two of you had signed the contract, paid for the job, and moved to the bedroom. Geonu sat down on the chair in the corner of the room, while you and Heeseung sat don’t in the middle of the bed. Heeseung sat against the headboard with his legs wide open, you in the middle of them with your back against his chest.
“Remember, if you decide to stop, the safeword is red”, Heeseung warned gently. You nodded.
The two of you were fully clothed as Heeseung moved your hair out of your shoulder to have access to your neck. He started by giving it soft pecks, just trying to get you more comfortable. You, on the other hand, closed your eyes, embarrassed. Geonu adjusted himself on the chair, eyes glued on your facial expressions.
Heeseung started to give your neck open-mouthed kisses, making you involuntarily move your head to the side, giving him more access. His hands moved carefully through your waist, searching for the hem of your shirt. His fingertips were cold as they entered your clothing to touch your skin. His touch was light, barely doing anything, but somehow you started to feel less weird about it.
His hands stroked your skin from your ribcage to your hips, stopping by the hem of your sweatpants. For a second, you felt ridiculous for not dressing up better. You seemed to relax after a little while, breathing harder when he slightly nipped at your skin. Heeseung’s hands moved upwards, circling your breasts with his whole palms before squeezing it softly. You didn’t say red, so he kept the motion for a couple of seconds before pulling your bra down to touch your nipples directly. You sighed when his fingertips circled your hard buds, a wave of electricity running straight down your core.
For about 40 seconds, Heeseung’s mouth left your neck and he focused on making you melt beneath his touch on your sensitive breasts. The realization of how sensitive you were made him aroused, his cock slowly hardening against your ass. Heeseung took one of his hands out of your nipple to raise your shirt, allowing Geonu to see your bare chest. Geonu breathed harder, the scene obscenely hot for him.
Without a warning, Heeseung’s hand entered your sweatpants. His hand reached for your thigh, fingertips caressing your skin so softly you barely felt the actual touch. He kept moving his hand up and down slowly, getting closer and closer to your clothed pussy.
His index and thumb pressed your left nipple harder, almost pinching it. You left a loud whine, throwing your head back against his shoulder. Geonu felt his cock twitch inside of his pants, eyes getting darker by only looking at you.
Knowing you’d already be wet, Heeseung’s hand caressed your pussy through the clothes. He could feel the wet patch on the bottom of your panties, which only made him more aroused. He never had any client that sensitive so fast. His fingertips didn’t do anything specific, he just rubbed your cunt from the slit to your clit through the thin fabric.
“Gosh, you’re soaking already”, Heeseung scoffed, smirking. “Won’t we take those pants off so your boyfriend can see how wet you got?”
Your cheeks got hotter as you closed your eyes harder, nodding. You raised your head and closed your legs (even though you can’t remember when you got them opened like that) to slide your pants through them easily, eyes locked on Geonu’s. He had a prominent boner on his shorts and gave you a smirk, making you feel more vulnerable.
You laid your back against Heeseung’s chest again, opening your legs a little timidly again. Your state was, at least, ridiculous to your point of view: messed up hair, shirt raised to your chest, bra down your ribcage, pants on the floor and panties soaking wet. From Geonu’s point of view, you were the hottest he’d ever seen.
Both Heeseung’s hands reached for your thighs, opening your legs wider for him, placing your ankles behind his legs. His hands caressed your inner thighs before they stopped almost above your cunt. One of his hands opened your pussy lips, while the other pulled your underwear up, rubbing the fabric roughly against your clit. You moaned quietly, eyes closing.
“C’mon, don’t be shy. Pull up a big show for him”, Heeseung whispered against your ear. He moved the fabric a few times, stimulating your clitoris harshly and spreading your arousal on yourself. You sighed, hands playing with the sheets beneath you.
Heeseung pulled your panties up, breaking the contact of your skin with it. He pulled it up to the side, collecting your arousal with his fingers. You whined again, his fingers colder than before. He dragged the arousal to your clit, circling it slowly right after. This time, you moaned openly, just like you did with Geonu.
Geonu couldn’t stop smirking at you, his cock so hard against his underwear that it almost hurt him. Slowly, he started to rub his cock through his clothes. Heeseung’s cock was not different.
Heeseung’s other hand let go of your underwear, collecting your arousal again, this time to start to finger you. He slid two fingers at once, making your whine higher and close your eyes harder, mouth agape. With no effort at all, he curled his fingers and started pumping them in and out, brushing against your g-spot while still abusing your swollen clit.
“Oh, my God”, you whined, fingers now holding your sheets as if your life depended on it. “I’m gonna cum!”
Heeseung scoffed against you, shaking his head. “Already going dumb? Just by fingering? Gosh, look at you”, he cooed.
You kept clenching around his fingers at every word leaving his lips, the know only growing bigger down your stomach.
“Red”, you whined, breathless. Heeseung stopped immediately and Geonu just looked at you, stopping his stroking.
“Do you want me to leave?”, Heeseung asked gently.
“No”, you answered, chest rising and falling fast. “I- I just thought you’d… fuck me”, you said, shy. “I can’t cum more than once in at least thirty minutes, I get too sensitive”, you explained completely embarrassed. Geonu smiled, cock twitching again. He knew how sensitive you got, he couldn’t wait to see you whining and trying to close your legs desperately as you always do.
“I see”, Heeseung scoffed. “In that case, won’t you get in all fours for me?”
“R-right here?”, you asked, sitting straighter, your back not touching him anymore.
“Maybe you could move to the side of the bed, give Geonu a nice view of you being railed by someone else.”
You clenched around nothing, a mixture of arousal and embarrassment. You finished undressing yourself, throwing your remaining clothes through the room, and walking towards Geonu instead of just leaning on the bed.
“You sure you don’t want to… step in?”, you asked, leaning in to peck his lips. Heeseung undressed himself and looked for the condom in the meantime.
“Nah, this is priceless”, Geonu responded in a husky voice, extremely aroused. He kept stroking himself through his pants.
You slowly walked back to the bed, noticing Heeseung was ready and waiting for you. He was standing next to the bed, stroking himself while looking at you two.
As you got on all fours, you laid your head against the mattress, feeling way too exposed. Heeseung aligned himself on your entrance, sliding his covered tip through it for a bit. Without a warning, Heeseung penetrated you at once, bottoming out in one go. You gasped loudly, grabbing the sheets again. You didn’t know how big his cock would be when you contacted him in the first place, but now you were kinda regretful of not asking because his tip was abusing your cervix. You’d have cramps after.
You thought Heeseung would be a little gentler, however, he started to pound into you the way you never thought someone else would. You loved when Geonu fucked you hard and fast, melting your brains out because of the pleasure, but this was completely different.
You couldn’t stop clenching and whining as Geonu finally pulled his pants and underwear down, setting his cock free. His hand started to work hard against his tip and he moaned along with you, only making you clench harder against Heeseung’s cock.
“Look at you, already drooling and clenching. You’re pulling up such a pretty performance for him, aren’t you?”, Heeseung groaned. He tried to control himself not to grab your ass too hard, so he wouldn’t leave any marks on your skin, but you were sucking him in so good, he couldn’t deal with it properly.
Geonu’s hand slapped hard and fast against his pelvis, the noise mixing with the noise of Heeseung’s balls against your ass. It all became too much and you knew you’d cum in any second. You were moaning incoherent stuff, babbling and drooling over the sheets, knuckles turning white from the strength you put into holding the sheets. Geonu knew you were about to cum, he had a hard time knowing if he looked at your hazed face or your pussy being pounded roughly.
“I can’t”, you moaned, trying to hold longer.
“Then cum, make a mess”, Heeseung groaned. And you did.
You moaned loudly, your breath hectic in the middle of your whining afterward. Heeseung kept fucking you restlessly, chasing his own orgasm. After your cloud nine was gone, you started whining and trying to close your legs, shaking like Jell-O. Geonu came hard, groaning as his cum spurted down his hand.
In 15 seconds, Heeseung came hard inside of his condom, groaning just as hard as Geonu did. He slowly removed himself from your insides, allowing you to finally lay on the bed, shaky.
You thought it would be awful, but turns out cuckolding was not bad at all.
✴ Kinktober, day seven: accidental stimulation with Sunoo
✴ Word count: 1,5K
✴ Content warning: kitchen sex, oral sex (f!receiving), little bit of an oral fixation.
✴ Taglist: @starsareseen, @lucid-sombra, @enha13, @karinashairdryer, @kim2005bomi, @hyun00
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
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“Jesus Christ, we should’ve bought a cake”, you laughed.
“Ya! It’s not that bad!” Sunoo responded, pretending to be offended.
The two of you were decorating a cake for your nephew’s third birthday. You told your sister you’d buy him a cake, but your lovely boyfriend suggested that the two of you bake it.
Baking wasn’t the problem at all. You two agreed on a chocolate cake, Sunoo mixed the batter while you worked on the filling. However, none of you seemed to know how to work around chantilly, the counter gross and sticky because it took you three tries to finally achieve the right consistency.
Now, the cake was weirdly covered in a heavy mass of chantilly, looking almost like cement all over it. You laughed while Sunoo tried to move it around with a spatula to cover the holes. You collected an excess of it with your (clean) fingers and placed it on the spot without any chantilly at all.
“Maybe we should make more, I think a can of heavy cream wasn’t enough.”
“Do we have any heavy cream left?”, he asked with a chuckle. “Plus, what if we forget to add vanilla again? It’ll taste like nothing.”
“Nah, it’ll taste like whipped cream.”
“Nobody likes plain whipped cream.”
“I do!”, you responded in a higher pitch, ready to playfully fight him. “I’d punch you if my hands weren’t sticky right now.”
Sunoo laughed, putting the spatula down. “Let me see”, he asked, reaching out for your hand. You let him grab your hand in his, only to watch him wrap his lips around your fingertips to suck the chantilly out of them.
You knew it wasn’t his intention, but it sent a shiver right down your core, turning you on instantaneously. You just watched him sucking your fingers (without any sign of dirty thoughts behind his eyes) without a single reaction, not being able to move.
Sunoo removed your fingers from his mouth and smiled, leaning in to peck your lips quickly.
“So much better than plain whipped cream”, he winked, laughing a bit. He turned around to toss the spatula on the sink, and you stood still, your brain suddenly fogged. “Hey, you ok?”, he asked after a few seconds, looking at you over his shoulder as he opened the tap.
You cleaned your throat, nodding. “Yeah, yeah.”
“You sure?”, he asked, pouting. “You got quiet all of a sudden.”
You moved a bit, leaning your back against the counter. Your mind couldn’t forget that scene and how it made you feel – only making it worse.
“Nah, I haven’t”, you said, voice an octave higher.
Sunoo turned the water off, turning around to face you. He arched an eyebrow, obviously not buying it.
“Do you actually think you can fool me?”
“Sometimes, yeah”, you shrugged, smiling awkwardly.
With a sigh, Sunoo walked towards you (took him literally three steps), standing still in front of you. “Do I need to tickle the truth out of you?”
You scoffed, leaning in to lay your forehead against his shoulder. Sunoo crossed his arms behind your back, holding you as he leaned his cheek against your head.
“It’s a little gross.”
“Not possible”, he said softly. “I can take anything that comes from your weird-ass head.”
You playfully slapped his ribcage before wrapping your arms around his torso. “I’m just a little embarrassed ‘cause I got a little turned on.”
“Oh”, Sunoo said, eyebrows raised even though you couldn’t see. “Should I ask how that happened?”
You took a deep breath, closing your eyes and holding him closer.
“When you… sucked my fingers.”
You needed no other word for Sunoo to get it. He stayed silent for a few seconds before rubbing your back. He placed a gentle kiss on top of your head before saying:
“What should we do about it?”
You looked up, confused.
“Nothing?”
Sunoo scoffed, shaking his head. He moved one of his hands towards the side of your neck, part of his fingers placed on your cheek before leaning in to connect your lips.
His soft lips moved slowly against yours, melting you beneath his touch. Every time your tongues brushed against each other’s, you felt a sparkle. Your hands moved to the sides of his body, holding tightly his hoodie.
“What are you doing?”, you asked once he broke the kiss. Sunoo didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed your hand from his clothing and dragged it towards his lips.
He started kissing your hand gently, just by pecking your fingers – already turning your pupils dilated by the feeling – while keeping eye contact. He didn’t know your hands were that sensitive, but now he wouldn’t let it go.
“Ya, Sunoo”, you tried warning him, but your voice sounded shaky. He scoffed, slowly licking your fingertips. Your eyes closed involuntarily, the excitement growing by the second.
Sunoo held your waist more strongly than he normally would, while his other hand held yours against his lips. He sucked your index and middle finger up to your knuckles, making you sigh heavily.
“How do you want me to make you cum, love?”, he asked gently after completely removing your fingers from his soft mouth while his fingers brushed your waist softly through the fabric of your shirt.
You mumbled something incoherent and lay your head against his shoulder again, completely embarrassed. Sunoo knew not only you but also how your body reacted to his touch. He knew you were wet and growing desperate for him to touch your whole body.
“I guess it’s up to me, then”, he chuckled. Sunoo used his hand to hold your chin and raise your head, looking at your flustered face. His inner self wanted to smirk and make some mean comment about your state, but it was just so hot for him that he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
With care, he kissed your lips. His actions were sweet, but his intentions were just the opposite, his cock getting hard at the thought of you so desperate because of him.
“Will you let me take care of you?”, he said in almost a whisper, lips brushing against yours as he spoke. You nodded, eyes still closed.
Sunoo used to go big or go home, so instead of torturing you, he dropped to his knees. His fingers reached the button of your jeans, undoing it in such a peace it killed you. Your cheeks burned hot as he calmly pulled your jeans and your panties down, embarrassed for not wearing anything sexy and for that little wet patch on them. Your right hand reached for his soft hair, caressing his scalp as you leaned against the counter. He took your bottom clothing completely off, making you feel exposed. His hand reached for the back of your right thigh, pulling it over his shoulder.
“What are you-”
You couldn’t finish the sentence, once Sunoo’s warm tongue licked a stripe from your slit to your clit and made you hold your breath. His lips focused completely on your clit from that moment on, making patterns in it with his wet muscle and eventually sucking it.
“Jesus, Sunoo”, you meawled, almost melting beneath his touch. Your eyes barely stayed open, but Sunoo’s were focused on your face. Your expressions and soft moans of pleasure were way too amusing for him to miss.
Without a warning, Sunoo’s middle and ring fingers were abusing your velvety walls from the inside. The way he curled his fingers and massaged your g-spot with ease made your eyes close even harder and your hand left his hair, now both of them supporting your weight better against the counter.
Sunoo absolutely loved how fast you’d cum when he eat you out, never lasting more than three minutes of his tongue abusing your swollen clit. He knew how and when to press all the right spots to make you melt beneath his touch.
“Hmpf, Sunoo”, you mumbled, biting your lips in between the words to keep the moans from floating out of your throat. “I’m so close.”
Sunoo scoffed, already knowing that. With no warning, his left hand pressed down your stomach while the other one worked harder and faster, pumping in and out of you and massaging your g-spot with ease.
Within seconds you were a babbling mess, grinding your hips against his face. He only stopped stimulating your g-spot and your clit once you whined higher, letting him know it was too much.
Sunoo got up, wiping his chin with the back of his hand, a big smirk on his face and a bulge on his pants. You were panting, knuckles white from the strength you put into them to keep you standing up while your lover gave you a mindblowing orgasm.
“So, how do you feel?”, he asked, gently even though his face had the biggest grin you’ve ever seen.
“I…” your chest raised fast. “I think I really love you”, you said, playfully.
“Maybe you could show how much you love me”, he said in the same playful tone, right hand pressing his boner over his pants.
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