Hey there! Iâm abi and Iâm so excited (but also a little nervous) to share my little space with you! Here, Iâll be writing all sorts of things â from fluffy reactions to, angst, drama, and everything in between!điâm not the best with the smutty ones but Iâll be happy to try writing some in the future!!! Iâll try my best!!!đđ
My account will be more focused on nct! But if any of you guys have any requests of doing other groups ( that I stan ofc ) like : aespa, enhypen, ateez , twice , itzy , txt , p1harmony and seventeenâŁïž then Iâll do it with pleasure!! Iâll probably do some of them without requests asked so dw!!!đ
synopsis: Y/N spent the whole night upset, literally avoiding doyoungâs touch. But doyoung couldnât understand why â everything was fine before they left the party. He had no idea what caused the sudden shift, but one thing was for sure: he wasnât going to let Y/N stay upset. Doyoung has a foolproof method for making things right â one heâs used before, and letâs just say⊠it never fails
warning: explicit sexual content, oral(f), p in v, vaginal sex, overstimulation, aftercare, soft dom!doyoung, silent treatment, emotional tension, miscomunication, intimacy as conflict resolution, creampie, petnames, cursing.
This was supposed to be a beautiful night.
A reunion, familiar faces, warm music humming through the air, champagne glasses clinking, laughter echoing from every corner. Everyone from university had shown up â older now, dressed a little nicer, maybe more tired, but still carrying the energy of those wild, hopeful years.
Y/n and Doyoung arrived hand in hand. Just like old times.
They were known as the couple back in uni â the soft-hearted ones, the lovers in libraries, the pair always stealing kisses between lectures and holding hands even when no one was watching. Theyâre story was easy to love. Effortless, romantic, the kind of relationship that made people believe in fate again.
So showing up tonight, with their fingers still laced with his, wearing a dress that he complimented three times before you even left the apartment, felt right. They smiled together, greeted friends, exchanged hugs. For a while, it was everything it was supposed to be.
Until it wasnât.
At some point, she lost him.
Not physically â he was still in the same room. Just a few feet away, really. But emotionally, in presence, in warmth⊠he slipped out of her orbit and didnât even realize heâd left her behind.
It started small. A tap on the shoulder from an old friend. A laugh as he turned to hug someone he hadnât seen in years. Y/n let go of his hand then, thinking heâd come back. That heâd pull her close again like he always did.
But he didnât.
Instead, he got swept away. Caught in a current of familiar voices and nostalgia-heavy jokes, bouncing between conversations like a pinball â always in motion, always smiling.
And Y/n⊠she was still standing where he left her.
Y/n tried to be patient. She sipped her drink slowly, the edge of the glass cold against her lips. She smiled politely at people passing by. She even waved to one of her own friends across the room, though the weight in her chest made it hard to hold the gesture for long.
She wasnât mad. Not yet.
Of course he missed them. Of course heâd want to catch up. Two or three years is a long time to go without seeing people who once felt like family.
But as the minutes passed â then the hour â and she watched other couples move like magnets, always touching, always anchored to each other â it started to sting.
There was a girl from her year whose boyfriend had his hand on her waist the entire night. Y/n watched him lean down and kiss her temple as she laughed at something, and she couldnât help but glance across the room to where Doyoung was⊠not looking at her. Again.
Y/n folded her arms tightly across your chest. Not from cold, but from the ache she couldnât name out loud.
At one point, he turned, caught your eye. He smiled â that beautiful, gentle smile that made her heart trip over itself â and waved her over.
Y/n didnât move.
Because she didnât want to walk into a group where she hadnât been invited. She didnât want to stand beside him like a forgotten afterthought, laughing awkwardly at jokes she wasnât a part of.
She didnât want to ask for attention that should have been offered freely.
So she stayed where you were. Quiet. Waiting.
He came back eventually, brushing a hand down her arm. âYou okay, baby?â
She didnât answer.
Her lips barely twitched into a polite smile, but her eyes⊠they didnât meet his.
Still, he didnât quite see it. He kissed the side of her head, wrapped an arm loosely around her waist and said, âIâm just gonna check in with Jaehyun real quick, alright?
He didnât wait for her reply.
And y/n?
She broke just a little.
It wasnât loud. It wasnât dramatic. It wasnât the kind of heartbreak that spilled tears down her cheeks or made her storm out.
It was quiet.
The kind of quiet that presses into her lungs and makes it hard to breathe.
So when he returned again, grinning, soft voice asking, âYou sure youâre okay?â,her only answer was to take a small step away from him.
Then another.
She heard his voice behind her, uncertain, gentle. âBaby?â
But she kept walking.
One hour later,
The event had gone on too long.
At first, sheâd been okay. She smiled, chatted with old friends, laughed at the nostalgic stories that swirled around the room. It felt good to be surrounded by people she knew so well, to reminisce about the university days, to be in Doyoungâs arms when he made a joke and kissed the top of her head.
But then something changed.
Johnny had stood up to give a short speech, a casual address to wrap things up, and everyone began to shift. People naturally gathered around their partners, slipping into each otherâs arms, smiling like they hadnât been apart for years, while the soft music in the background became a quieter hum.
And she stood there, watching.
Doyoung had made his way toward his friends, arms around each otherâs shoulders, laughing with the same warmth heâd always had. He had his friends with their partners right there â and even though they were in pairs, they still shared the same closeness, that bond that had never really changed.
But what about y/n?
She wasnât a part of that circle. Not in that moment. Not to him.
She waited. She waited for him to look your way, for him to sense that something was wrong, that the way heâd been ignoring her all night was eating away at her.
But he didnât.
He didnât look at her. He didnât call her over.
She saw how all the couple were together, glued with each other, in any moment that the wife in the relationship wanted to go somewhere , wouldnât the man excuse them mid conversation to follow his wife? I mean, doesnât that make sense? Surely if the conversation isnât more important then your partner!
She felt a pang in your chest.
It wasnât jealousy. It wasnât anger.
It was loneliness.
Suddenly, she didnât want to be there anymore. It didnât matter that she was happy, that his friends were around him. It didnât matter that she had shared these same moments in the past. What mattered was the quiet distance that had grown between the two of them.
So, without another word, without even looking back, she turned around and walked out of the crowd
It only took about ten seconds.
She was already slipping through the exit, the hum of voices dying behind her, before she heard Doyoung call her name.
âY/N? Hey, waitââ
His voice was panicked. She could hear it in the way his tone raised an octave, that sudden urgency that made her pause just for a split second. But she didnât stop. She kept walking, her heels clicking steadily against the floor, trying to ignore the tightness in her throat.
The sound of his footsteps was closer now, catching up. His hand brushed against your arm, gentle at first, then firm as he turned her to face him.
âY/N⊠whatâs wrong? Are you okay?â
He was breathless, eyes wide, the confusion clouding his face. He looked at her like you were a puzzle he couldnât quite solve, and for a moment, she could see the edges of guilt creep into his gaze. He hadnât realized. He didnât understand what was happening inside her.
âIâm fine,â she whispered, but the words came out clipped, the lie hanging thick in the air. She pulled her arm away from him and took a small step back, keeping her distance. âI just want to go home.â
Doyoung froze for a moment, the hurt flashing across his face before he masked it with that familiar, gentle concern. âYou donât have to go right now. Weâre almost done. Johnnyâs finishing upââ
She couldnât take it anymore.
Your breath caught in her chest, and before you even knew what she were doing, she slapped his hand away. Not hard. But enough. Enough for him to feel the sting.
âI donât care, okay? I said I want to go home,â she repeated, this time your voice firmer, cracking in places.
Doyoung flinched at the sudden shift in your tone. His face softened in confusion, then hurt, then a desperate attempt to understand. He stepped closer, trying to reach for her again, but she took another step back.
âY/N, please, whatâs going on? Youâre acting like you donât want to be with me, and I⊠I donât get it. I donât know what happened.â
His words were gentle, almost pleading, but you couldnât bring yourself to explain. Not now. Not with the weight of it all pressing down on her.
She shook your head, still looking away. âJust take me home, Doyoung. Please.â
He didnât say anything for a moment, staring at her like he was trying to decipher the puzzle pieces scattered in her eyes. Finally, he sighed softly, hands falling to his sides in surrender. There was a moment of stillness, the space between them two thick with unspoken words.
âOkay⊠okay, Iâll take you home,â he murmured, his voice quieter now, just as hurt, but still laced with tenderness.
And so, without another word, he turned toward the door, guiding y/n gently behind him. He didnât press you any further. Not this time. Not when he could see that whatever had happened tonight, whatever he had missed, was too much for her to explain right now.
They both left the event in silence.
The Car Ride
The ride home was thick with silence. The city lights passed by in a blur outside the window, but all she could focus on was the growing pressure in her chest. Doyoungâs knuckles were white on the steering wheel.
âBaby, whatâs up?â he asked softly.
Nothing.
âYou can talk to me, you know?â
Still nothing.
âAre you mad at me?â
She stayed quiet, her eyes not leaving the view outside the window. But she could feel his gaze lingering on her, like he was trying to read her, to unravel the puzzle of why sheâd pulled away.
The silence was louder than her voice ever could be.
He suddenly pulled the car over, the tires crunching lightly against the curb.
She looked away.
Doyoung faced you now, eyes filled with worry, frustration, and a little bit of hurt. âY/N⊠talk to me. Please.â
She looked away, again.
Finally, after a moment of silence, Doyoung sighed, the sound heavy in the air. âFine,â he murmured, his voice no longer teasing, but soft, vulnerable. âIf you want to keep pretending like everythingâs fine, Iâll just sit here and drive you home, Y/N. But I want you to know⊠Iâm still here. I always will be, no matter how stubborn you get.
He let the words hang in the air, the weight of them lingering between you two, and for a moment, you could almost feel the tension in his shoulders.
She didnât answer right away, but you could hear the sincerity in his voice, the way he wasnât pressing her but still trying, in his own way, to get through to her. And as much as she wanted to stay angry, as much as she wanted to keep building that wall, she couldnât help the small shift in her chest.
Doyoung was right.
She were upset, yes. She were hurt, yes. But he was still her Doyoung. The one who knew her better than anyone else.
The silence stretched on, but now it wasnât as suffocating. His words had pierced through the wall sheâd built, and maybe it wasnât going to be fixed immediately, but there was a crack. Just enough for something to slip through.
But she still couldnât look at him. Right now.
âSeriously? Baby, youâve been avoiding me all night, and now weâre just gonna pretend like everythingâs fine?â
Y/nâs voice cracked as she finally spoke, barely above a mumble. âL-Look, I just⊠felt so stupid, standing there by myself all night. Watching other couples stick together while you just⊠disappeared over and over.â
His brows pulled together. âY/N⊠I havenât seen some of them since years. Theyâre my friends too. You shouldnât be upset about that.â
Her stomach dropped.
And just like that, she felt completely misunderstood.
She turned away.
âIâm sorry, okay?â he said softly, pressing a kiss to her cheek. âI didnât mean to make you feel that way.â
Y/n nodded slightly. But her silence returned, cold and cutting
At home
They got home and the room was thick with the tension of unspoken words and simmering frustration. Y/N sat at the edge of the bed, she her beautiful wardrobe on (that doyoung loved), scrolling through her phone like she wasnât fuming beneath the surface. Doyoung watched her for a moment from across the room, his own towel low on his hips, hair still damp, jaw tight.
Heâd spent the whole evening trying â soft questions, gentle tones â and all he got was cold silence. It wasnât like her, not like this. She was never one to ice him out like this without a reason, and now that he knew why, it made him even more frustrated â not because she was wrong, but because she didnât say anything when it mattered.
âIâm done playing games, baby,â he said quietly, walking over.
Y/N didnât even glance up. Scroll. Tap. Silence.
Doyoung dropped to his knees in front of her, eyes dark, intense. His large hands gripped her thighs, spreading them apart before she could blink. Her breath caught â phone slipping from her hand onto the mattress â and she finally looked at him.
âSince you wanna act like a brat the whole nightâŠâ His voice was low, sultry, dangerous. ââŠGuess Iâll have to take that attitude out of you.â
Before she could respond, he dragged her wardrobe open and leaned in, his warm breath brushing against her already sensitive skin. He didnât give her time to think â his tongue was on her, slow and deliberate, licking a long stripe up her center that made her thighs instinctively clamp around his head.
But he was strong â too strong â and he held them open with ease, humming lowly as if enjoying how mad she was.
âYou ignored me the whole night,â he mumbled into her, lips brushing against her soaked folds. âDidnât say a word, not even in the car. Is this what you wanted, baby?â Another flick of his tongue, this time circling her clit just enough to make her hips jerk.
She whimpered, finally. It broke out of her lips like a breath she was holding in all day.
âWhy were you upset, hmm?â he asked, teasing, as his mouth returned to its sinful rhythm â slow, deep licks that had her shaking.
She couldnât speak. Her fingers gripped the sheets, eyes fluttering closed as he kept going. Moans slipped out, soft and involuntary.
âWas it âcause I wasnât glued to you like those other couples?â He kissed her inner thigh now, gently. âBaby⊠youâre mine. I donât need to stick to your side to prove it. I thought you knew that.â
His tongue returned to her clit, and this time it was relentless. She gasped, back arching as her vision blurred. Stars. She was seeing stars.
âD-Doyoung, fuck..wait-â she choked out, finally. Her voice was hoarse with pleasure, broken with emotion.
He didnât stop. âThatâs it, baby. Let it out,â he murmured. âLet go of that attitude. Let me hear you.â
And she did. Loudly.
Y/N was already shaking.
Chest rising and falling in uneven little breaths, thighs trembling against Doyoungâs shoulders. Her release had just barely faded â the kind of orgasm that left her head fuzzy and her body too sensitive to think straight â but Doyoung wasnât done.
Not even close.
He stayed between her legs like he belonged there. And to be fair, he did.
âDoyoungââ she whimpered, voice high and breathy, her fingers buried in his hair now, gripping like it was the only thing anchoring her to the planet.
âHmm?â His voice was muffled as he pressed another open-mouthed kiss to her still-pulsing clit. âYou sound so pretty, baby.â
âI⊠I canâtâ itâs too much,â she whispered, trying to pull away weakly. But her body betrayed her, hips twitching forward with every slow, teasing lick of his tongue.
âToo much?â he echoed, tilting his head slightly, eyes meeting hers from between her thighs â all heat and devotion and soft control. âBut youâre still holding onto me, bunny.â
And she was.
White-knuckled, fingers tangled in his hair, nails gently scraping his scalp like she couldnât decide if she wanted to push him away or pull him deeper.
He smirked â just a little â and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her core. âYouâre so sensitive⊠but so greedy, huh?â
âDoyoung, waitââ she gasped again, her voice catching as his tongue started moving slowly once more, dragging across her folds like he had all the time in the world. Like he wanted to taste every second of her unraveling.
Her body jerked and arched as the feeling built again, but this time it was different â hazy, hot, almost too much.
It felt like heaven.
Her thighs tried to close around his head, but he gently pushed them apart, never rough, always just firm enough. âNo hiding from me now. You can take it, baby. You want to take it, donât you?â
She couldnât answer. Her words dissolved into broken moans, small gasps of his name. She felt like she was floating â like her whole body was buzzing, toes curling, stomach clenching as another wave began to crash down too soon, too fast.
He flattened his tongue, pressing it right where she needed, and murmured against her:
âCome for me again, baby. Just one more. You can do it. Be good for me.â
And with a desperate cry, she did â gripping his soft hair tighter, back arching off the bed, thighs squeezing around him as she shattered for the second time, even harder than before.
He didnât stop kissing her through it, letting her ride it out, holding her thighs gently like she was fragile now, like she might break apart completely if he wasnât careful.
When she finally went limp, he looked up at her, face shining with devotion, lips red and wet and so smug.
âYou okay, bunny?â he asked softly, crawling up the bed to hover over her.
She nodded slowly, still breathless, eyes glassy, voice small
After her second orgasm Y/N was still catching her breath, body flushed and glowing, skin dewy with the heat of everything heâd just done to her.
Her legs trembled against the mattress, chest rising and falling with delicate shudders. Doyoung hovered above her now, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes full of something deeper than lust â like reverence. Like love.
âYou okay?â he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead.
She nodded, cheeks burning. âI⊠yeah. Iâm justââ
She couldnât even finish the sentence. Her body felt like water. Like candle wax, melted and soft.
âSensitive?â he finished for her, kissing her forehead gently.
She gave the smallest nod, and he smiled â that warm, adoring kind of smile that said heâd never loved anyone more than her in this exact moment.
âThen Iâll be soft,â he whispered, like a promise.
And when he kissed her lips â it wasnât rushed. It wasnât hungry. It was deep. Slow, with lips sliding perfectly over hers, like he wanted to taste her sighs, like he was memorizing the shape of her mouth all over again. His tongue brushed hers just once, slow and sensual, making her whimper quietly.
Every part of her responded, sensitive and twitching beneath his touch as he pressed his hips closer, hand sliding down to line himself up against her, but not pushing in just yet. His tip brushed over her folds, slick and swollen from how thoroughly heâd ruined her, and she gasped softly, tightening her grip around his arms.
âIâll go slow,â he said again, his nose brushing against hers.
And thenâhe slid into her.
All the way.
One long, deep, achingly slow stroke that had her entire body arching up into his. She clung to him, arms wrapping around his shoulders, thighs trembling as she gasped into his mouth.
âDoyoung,â she whimpered, overwhelmed. It felt like too much and not enough at the same time. Like her body didnât know how to handle being filled after how sensitive she still was.
âIâve got you,â he whispered, kissing her lips again, holding her face gently between his hands like she might break. âYou feel so good, baby⊠so warm, so perfect around me.â
She whimpered again, eyes fluttering closed as he slowly rocked into her, letting her feel every inch of him with every deep thrust.
âJust let me take care of you, yeah?â he murmured against her lips, pressing kisses to her cheeks, her chin, the corner of her mouth. âYouâre mine. My baby. My everything.â
Her hands fisted in his hair again, tugging him closer, her legs wrapping around his waist now, as if trying to pull him deeper â even through the overstimulation.
âI-I, f-fuck, I love you,â she gasped, voice cracking with the emotion of it.
Doyoung kissed her harder this time, a soft moan caught in his throat. âI love you more.â
And then he started moving a little deeper, a little steadier â not fast, but just enough to make her feel every stroke. His pelvis met hers with slow, tender rhythm, the wet sound of their bodies meeting filling the room with something intimate, something sacred.
She whined his name again and again, hips rolling up to meet him, even when it was too much â especially when it was too much.
And every time her breath hitched, he kissed her.
Every twitch, every moan, every tear that pricked at the corners of her eyes â he met it all with love.
âYouâre doing so good for me,â he whispered against her lips. âSo beautiful like this⊠look at you. Taking me so well.â
Her release snuck up on her this time â soft and overwhelming, like a wave crashing in slow motion. Her nails dug into his back, her whole body shaking as she gasped into his mouth, lips parted, eyes fluttering shut.
He felt it â the way her walls clenched tight around him, how she cried out his name like it was the only word she knew.
Doyoung came with her, hips stilling, head tucked into her neck as he groaned low and quiet, holding her close as he emptied himself inside her.
And then â silence.
Just their breathing. The thud of his heart against her chest. The warmth of his body, still buried inside her, unmoving.
He pressed one kiss to her forehead.
âYouâre everything to me,â he whispered.
She was limp in his arms, eyes glazed with that post-orgasm daze, skin flushed and glowing as her fingers absentmindedly traced patterns along his shoulder.
But Doyoung? He was watching her like a man who wasnât finished.
Not even close.
Still inside her, still thick and warm and twitching with the aftershock of his own release â and yet, the way she clenched around him when she shifted just slightly, the breathy little whimper that left her lips when his hips rolled instinctively against hers â yeah.
She wasnât done either.
âStill so tight around me,â he murmured, nuzzling into her neck, voice low and rasped from how hard heâd groaned her name. âYouâre not gonna let me go, huh?â
Her response was a soft moan, thighs twitching weakly against his sides.
âDoyoungâŠâ
That voice â whiny and breathless and wrecked â made something dark flicker in his eyes. His hand slid up between them, fingers brushing over her already swollen clit, and she gasped, arching slightly.
âSo sensitive,â he whispered, kissing her jaw. âBut youâre still dripping, baby. Still greedy for me.â
Her body tensed and pulsed around him at that, and his smirk deepened.
âYou want more?â
She nodded slowly, too dazed to pretend otherwise.
He thrust into her once â slow, deep â and the sound she made was something between a gasp and a cry. Her nails sank into his skin again, trying to ground herself, but it was useless. She was gone.
And he loved it.
âUse your words,â he murmured, teasing her the way he always did when she got like this. âOr do I have to fuck the attitude out of you again?â
âI-I want it,â she choked out. âIâ pleaseââ
âThatâs my good girl.â
Then he pulled out â not all the way, just enough to make her feel the slow drag of him leaving her â and slammed back in, hard enough that the bed creaked and she sobbed into his shoulder.
This wasnât soft anymore.
This was him fucking her through the overstimulation, holding her legs open, his hand at her throat (just resting, just enough to remind her who she belonged to), whispering the filthiest things in the sweetest tone.
âStill feel ignored, baby?â he breathed against her lips, fucking into her slow and hard now, making her feel it.
She couldnât even answer. Her mouth fell open, eyes rolling back, and he laughed softly â loving it.
âYouâre too cockdrunk to talk now, huh?â he teased. âMy perfect little mess.â
He kissed her again â deep, possessive â and when she whimpered, he swallowed the sound like it fueled him.
âYouâre mine,â he whispered against her tongue. âSay it.â
âYours,â she gasped. âYours, yoursââ
âThatâs right. All mine. This perfect little pussyââ he rolled his hips into her again, dragging another filthy moan from her mouthâ âmade for me.â
Her fourth orgasm hit harder than either of them expected.
She clenched around him so tight he nearly lost control, her cries muffled by his mouth as he kissed her through it, never letting her fall. Her body shook like she couldnât even process the pleasure anymore, like she was in another world.
Doyoung came right after, voice ragged, muttering her name like a prayer as he spilled inside her again, panting against her mouth as his thrusts finally slowed.
And then â quiet.
Just the sound of their hearts racing, skin slick with sweat, breaths mingling in the space between them.
He didnât pull out. He just held her, arms wrapping around her protectively, kissing her cheeks, her eyelids, her lips over and over.
âYou good, baby?â he asked softly.
She gave a tiny, weak nod. âI canât feel my legs.â
He smiled, pressing his forehead against hers. âThatâs fair.â
And then â a final kiss. Tender, warm, reverent.
âI love you,â he whispered.
âEven when Iâm bratty?â
He laughed into her neck. âEspecially when youâre bratty.
Y/N could barely keep her eyes open.
Her body was warm and heavy, her limbs loose and trembling, chest rising and falling in slow, deep breaths as she lay on the bed, completely bare and utterly wrecked. Her skin still glowed with the aftermath of everything Doyoung had given her â pleasure layered on top of pleasure, like her body didnât even know how to return to Earth.
But Doyoung â he was already moving.
He didnât say a word at first, just pressed a tender kiss to her forehead before slipping off the bed, walking softly to the bathroom. She barely had time to register the sound of water running before he was back, warm, damp towel in hand.
âDonât move,â he murmured, kneeling beside her again. âJust let me take care of you, my baby.â
His voice was so gentle, like velvet against her skin.
She made a soft noise â somewhere between a hum and a whimper â and he smiled softly, brushing her hair from her face. Then, slowly and carefully, he began to clean her up â warm towel gliding over her thighs, her tummy, between her legs with the kind of touch that didnât stir arousal, only comfort. Like he was cherishing her body after worshipping it so completely.
âYou did so well,â he whispered, pressing a kiss to the inside of her knee, then her hip. âIâm so proud of you.â
When he was done, he dropped the towel gently to the side and reached for the bottle of oil on the nightstand â the one he always used when she was sore from dancing or long days.
âStill okay?â he asked quietly, and she nodded, still too blissed out to speak.
So he poured a little into his palms and rubbed them together, then started with her legs â soft, deep motions, easing the tension out of her trembling muscles. He worked his way up slowly, hands sliding over her thighs, her hips, her lower back. Always checking her face, always watching her reactions.
When she let out a tiny breath â half moan, half sigh â he leaned down and kissed her shoulder.
âYouâre safe,â he whispered against her skin. âYouâre mine. And sorry baby that I made u feel alone tonight. I got carried, and I shouldnât have. Please forgive me, hmm?â
Y/n just nodded with a little smile, since she felt so weak.
âLetâs get you warm,â he said softly, scooping her up into his arms like she weighed nothing.
She made a tiny noise of protest â half shy, half too tired to move â but he kissed her cheek and carried her to the bathroom.
The shower was already running.
He set her down carefully, helping her step in, adjusting the water so it was just the right amount of warm. Then he joined her â not to touch, not to tease â but just to wash her. His hands were careful with the soap, gliding over her body with reverence, cleaning every inch of her like she was something sacred. When she leaned into his chest, too weak to stand on her own, he just held her. (princess treatment, top tier!!)
âIâve got you,â he murmured, kissing her temple under the spray.
After, he dried her off with a fresh towel, careful not to miss a single drop. He wrapped her in one of his oversized shirts and her softest pair of sleep shorts, pulling the fabric over her hips slowly like she was delicate porcelain.
âYou good, baby?â he asked once she was fully dressed, brushing a thumb over her cheek.
She nodded, finally able to whisper, âYouâre spoiling me.â
He just smiled.
âGet comfy. Iâll be right back.â
She sank into the couch in the corner of their room, wrapped in warm cotton and still floating from all the affection, and when she looked toward the kitchenâŠ
There he was.
Doyoung, shirtless, hair damp, cutting fruit with practiced ease. He plated them on a tray with two glasses of cold water, some tiny cookies he knew she liked, and a soft little kiss-me-later smile on his face.
âSnack time,â he said sweetly, walking back over. âYou need sugar after that.â
She blinked at him, still breathless from the whole night.
âI donât deserve you.â
He set the tray down, cupped her face, and kissed her soft â slow, sweet, deep.
âYes, you do,â he murmured against her lips. âYou deserve everything.â
Why did it take me a whole day almost to make this? But anyways i hope yâall like it!!! Tried my best with the smut again hope you like that cause the smutty part was a bit longđđ. Thank you for reading!!!!!đđđđ
pairings: smooth charmer!johnny x cold and composed!enigma woman
synopsis: Johnny is drawn to a woman who rules the room with silence and grace. As they circle each other in quiet tension, some secrets stay locked â but the night holds its own promises.
warningsâŒïž: smoking, alcohol, slow burn(?), johnny WANTS that đȘ
notice: I was just writing this story cause I was bored but while writing I didnât really think of giving her a name, and I didnât make her a y/n character... To be honest.. it makes it more mysterious to me thoughâŠ. Itâs sexy. Btw the Johnny pictures donât match the story but heâs way to fine on those pictures so I had to use these so bad! ( I need him so bad)
There was a glow to the place â warm, moody, gold on wood. R&B met modern jazz in the air like velvet smoke. Not a club. A cocktail bar wrapped in amber light, mirrors, and money. Laughter murmured between low conversations. The beautiful people were here, pretending not to notice each other while watching everything.
Johnny leaned against the bar, drink in hand. His shirt was open just enough to make people look. He didnât try too hard â didnât need to. He looked comfortable, confident, like heâd already won something.
His friends were scattered â talking, laughing, performing. He wasnât listening. His eyes were fixed across the room.
Sheâd been there for forty minutes.
Alone.
Same seat. Same stillness. Not frozen â poised. Like she belonged there more than anyone else did.
Hair like black silk down her back. A tight black dress â nothing loud, but dangerous in the way it fit. Cigarette in hand, untouched glass beside her. Not once had she smiled. Not once had she moved with the room.
And she hadnât looked at a single man who tried.
There were many.
They came with drinks, compliments, jokes. One even tried to lean in like he already knew her. She didnât even blink. Just turned her head slightly â not even toward them â and they walked away.
Dismissed.
Like nothing had ever happened.
Johnny stared.
Mesmerized.
âDude,â Minhoonâs voice cut in. âDonât even think about it.â
Johnny didnât look away. âAbout what?â
Minhoon scoffed. âCome on. Youâve been staring at her all night.â
Johnny finally turned his head, eyebrow raised. âSo?â
âYeah. Iâve been coming here for months now. Iâve seen her before. She comes in maybe once every few weeks, never with anyone. Never talks. Rejects every guy â and not like âhaha no thanksâ rejection. I mean⊠she doesnât even acknowledge them. Just sips her drink and looks past them like theyâre invisible.â
Johnnyâs smile was slow. âI noticed.â
Minhoon narrowed his eyes. âYou seriously think youâre gonna be different?â
Johnny shrugged, still looking across the bar. âI donât need to be different.â
âJohnnyââ
âI just need to be real.â
Minhoon let out a low laugh. âDude, you know what, just go for it then, but donât come around and say that I didnât warn you. This girl.. itâs as if sheâs over us as if she came out of royalty.. I mean I donât know thatâs how it feels like..â
He didnât walk up right away. He took his time. He watched her â how she held the cigarette like an accessory, how she never checked her phone, how she never seemed bored. Just⊠still. Present. Like she didnât need to be entertained.
Like the whole room was noise beneath her.
Then finally â when the moment felt right â he moved.
Not loud. Not showy.
Just calm.
Confident.
He walked like the floor had been made for him. Slipped into the seat beside her at the bar without a word. No greeting. No line.
He placed his drink down. Caught the bartenderâs eye.
âWhiskey. Neat. Something worth drinking.â
The bartender nodded.
Johnny glanced at her glass, then poured her a fresh two fingers when the bottle came. No permission asked. Just⊠offered.
Only then did she glance his way.
A slow, assessing look. Not flirty. Not annoyed.
Just aware.
She took the glass. Sipped. Said nothing.
He let the silence stretch.
Then â low, smooth â he spoke
Johnny took the seat beside her again.
Not close. Not far.
He didnât say anything at first.
She didnât look at him.
Not in rejection â she just didnât offer attention unless something earned it.
Eventually, he tried. Softly.
âYou drink that like youâve been here before.â
No answer.
Not a glance.
He let a few moments pass.
Then: âOr maybe this place drinks you.â
Still nothing.
She didnât even blink.
But she didnât seem offended â he could tell.
He nodded, more to himself than to her.
âYou from around here?â
Nothing.
No eye contact.
She sipped, slowly, like her drink was a conversation she did want to have.
Johnny looked down at his glass, lips twitching. âIâll stop asking questions.â
A pause.
Then â something.
A side glance.
Barely more than a flick of her eye in his direction. But it was sharp. Intentional. Like she was measuring him.
She didnât turn her head.
Didnât give him her face.
Just her eye.
Then she looked away again.
But that flick â that glance â was more than most people would ever get.
He stayed quiet.
Minutes passed.
When she finally spoke, it wasnât prompted.
âYou ask questions too fast,â she said.
Voice low. Even. Neutral â like a scientist reading a note aloud.
He didnât look at her. Just responded gently. âIâll ask slower.â
Another long silence.
Then: âDonât ask.â
But not go away.
Not yet.
She sipped again. Her fingers rested lightly on the glass, but there was control in every movement. No nervous twitch, no distraction. Her body was composed â perfect posture, chin steady. Not graceful in a performative way. Regal. Like sheâd been raised to be watched, and learned to give nothing.
Johnny leaned back.
âYou donât talk much.â
âNo.â
âYou like silence?â
She didnât answer.
But her shoulders didnât tense. That was something.
He looked at her hands. Pale against the dark rim of her glass. She had royal fingers. The kind that never fidget. Born for rings and silence.
âYou seem very strict and very cool, but you donât seem unhappy.â
Still no answer.
But her eyes â when they turned slightly toward him â were clear. Flat. But not empty. Just⊠still. Like water too deep to stir at the surface.
He took that as permission.
Not to push. Just to stay.
So he did.
People around them moved. Laughed. Shouted. Bartenders poured. Glasses clinked.
She didnât flinch once.
This wasnât a defense mechanism. It wasnât the result of some cruel childhood or a brutal betrayal or something like that... it wasnât trauma making her silent. Well, it didnât look like that..
It looked like it was simply her nature.
Like she doesnât need to smile to feel okay.
Like she doesnât need to laugh to be amused.
Johnny got that and he wasnât trying to drag anything out of her anymore.
He was just sitting with her. And she allowed that.
Respecting the silence.
And slowly â barely â she seemed to accept that.
Her head tilted the smallest bit toward him, just a shift in angle, not posture. And in her next breath, her voice came again.
Low.
Flat.
But real.
âYou donât ask why Iâm alone.â
He glanced at her, careful not to move too fast. âNo.â
âYouâre not curious?â
âIâm not owed an answer.â
A pause.
She looked at him.
Not just a side glance this time. A full look. Her face still unreadable. No expression. But her gaze had weight. She wasnât looking at him. She was looking into him.
Then she nodded once.
No smile.
No warmth.
But something in her eyes flickered. Acknowledgment?
Then she returned to her drink, as if the conversation never happened.
And Johnny â quietly, without pushing â turned back to his.
Satisfied.
10 minutes later,
The music shifted.
Something low. Smooth. A rhythm that wrapped around the room like velvet â the kind of beat you danced to without trying, without showing.
Johnny stood.
Held out his hand.
She didnât take it. Not immediately. She looked at it â not like it repulsed her, but like it simply didnât matter. Then, after a breath too long to be polite, her fingers slid into his.
And she rose.
Not like a woman invited to dance â but like a sovereign deciding to move.
She didnât adjust her dress. Didnât glance around. She walked with him to the floor like she owned it â and he was just someone lucky enough to be pulled into orbit.
They danced.
Not fast. Not close yet, not quite. But present. Moving together, without needing to speak.
Her hand rested lightly on his shoulder â not for balance, not for show. It was there because she allowed it to be.
Johnny leaned in. Just enough to feel her breath in the small space between them.
âYouâve got this⊠untouchable thing going,â he said. âItâs working.â
She said nothing.
She just looked at him.
One corner of her mouth shifted. Barely.
He caught it.
And she knew he did. As if she did that on purpose.. well for him to understand.
The song deepened. Slowed. His hand found the small of her back â and this time, she didnât hesitate.
Still, she didnât soften. She moved with him the same way she did everything: quietly commanding. Composed. Her posture told stories. Not of dance lessons or practiced grace â but of lineage. Of silence bred into the bones.
He spun her. She returned without flourish.
Their hips brushed.
Her gaze met his â calm, assessing.
He leaned in.
Close enough now that his breath kissed her cheek. His lips tilted, aiming â slow, almost reverent â toward hers.
And then she stopped him.
One finger.
Cool. Precise. Touched his mouth before he could reach hers.
She looked at him â finally â and said, voice like the clink of ice in a glass, âNot fun if itâs easy.â
Then she stepped away.
Not coy. Not playful.
Just done.
She turned without another word and walked â straight-backed, head high, every inch of her untouched.
Like a queen leaving the floor.
Johnny stood there, blinking.
And then he smiled.
Not defeated â enchanted.
He knew then: she wasnât teasing him. Wasnât playing hard to get.
She simply wasnât his.
Not yet.
But for one song â one smooth, dangerous rhythm â sheâd let him pretend.
And walked â not rushed, not flirty⊠just calm and regal, as if dismissing a servant whoâd overstepped.
Johnny stood there, blinking.
Then he smiled. Big. Crooked. Like a man whoâd just lost a game and loved it.
He followed.
A step behind her.
âYouâre really gonna leave me hanging like that?â he called softly, laughing.
She didnât stop walking.
âAlready let you dance with me,â she said over her shoulder. âDonât get greedy.â
And that?
That was the moment Johnny knew he was screwed.
Johnny didnât leave.
He didnât return to his table. Didnât even glance at his friends, who were already watching and whispering and betting.
He followed her.
Not desperate â deliberate.
Like a storm that knows the land is already dry and cracked and waiting for rain.
She sat down at a corner lounge, low-lit and shadowed. She exhaled smoke slowly, like she had all the time in the world. Her glass was half-empty. Her gaze was still unreadable.
Johnny didnât ask to sit.
He just did.
Silence.
Then â casually â he leaned back in the leather seat and said, âSo you do let people follow you.â
She didnât look at him.
âI let dogs follow me,â she said.
His grin sharpened. âDo you pet them, too?â
âNo.â
He smirked wider. âNot even if theyâre good?â
She glanced sideways, lips barely twitching. âAre you?â
Johnny didnât answer. He just watched her â really watched her. The long, thick lashes. The impossible hair. The way her shoulders sat, relaxed but impossibly regal, like nothing could shake her spine. Her cigarette rested between her fingers like a throne in miniature.
And then.. a sign.
She crossed her legs. For the first time all night.
And the slit in her dress shifted.
Johnny didnât look where he wasnât supposed to. He kept his eyes up â locked on hers.
But he saw it.
She knew he saw it.
That was the first crack.
She finished her drink. He ordered her another â without asking, just like last time. She didnât protest. She sipped. She didnât look at him when she said, âYouâre persistent.â
âIâm interested.â
âThereâs a difference.â
âI know,â he said. âBut I also know youâve been letting me get closer every minute.â
Her pause was long.
Measured.
Then she tilted her head just slightly. âYouâre observant.â
âI told you that already.â
She faced him now. Full. Eyes like real shiny diamonds.
Her voice dropped â lower, silkier. âSo what is it you think you see?â
Johnny leaned in, elbows on his knees, hands clasped, face a breath from hers.
âI see a woman who says no without blinking. But who didnât tell me to leave. I see a queen who lets herself be followed â just not caught.â
She didnât blink. Didnât smile. But something â some almost-invisible softening at the corners of her lips â betrayed her.
Then she said, âYou still think youâll be the one to catch me?â
Johnny smiled slow.
âI donât need to catch you,â he murmured. âYouâre already turning around.â
Silence.
Then â her eyes dropped, just for a second.
To his mouth.
A flicker.
He noticed.
She noticed that he noticed.
Then she looked away again, took another drag, and exhaled â slow and elegant â like he wasnât there.
But she hadnât told him to go.
She hadnât pulled away.
And for Johnny?
Th at was everything
The space between them slowly pulsed.
Not loud. Not sudden.
Just steady. Rhythmic. Like a second heartbeat. As if this was natural.
Johnnyâs hand hovered at her waist â not quite touching, but close enough to feel the shape of her presence, the warmth of her skin through silk and air. He didnât move quickly. He didnât need to.
She was right there.
And she hadnât walked away.
He watched her â like you watch a flame in a dark room. Not for heat. But to see if it would let you close without burning.
Then, slow as a breath, he let his hand settle.
Light. Careful. A touch with no weight. A question, not an answer.
She didnât stop him.
Didnât lean in.
Didnât offer anything more than her stillness â but that was the thing.
She let it happen.
And that, for Johnny, meant more than permission.
It meant possibility.
He edged closer â only slightly â his lips parting like he might speak.
But he didnât.
Instead, his fingers moved, just barely. A soft, reverent glide along the curve of her waist. Not a claim. A confession.
He was here.
For her.
Her eyes stayed on his, quiet and unreadable â that endless black-glass gaze that gave nothing and hinted at everything.
And when she didnât look away â when she stayed with him in the space, unflinching â Johnnyâs breath caught. Subtle. But real.
His voice came soft, almost tender. A murmur, like he wasnât sure the moment could handle anything louder.
ââŠYouâre making this very dangerous,â he said. âLooking at me like that.â
She didnât blink.
Didnât smile.
She just held his eyes. Still. Calm. Sovereign.
It wasnât a challenge. Or an invitation.
It was a warning â cool, quiet, and already too late.
Just her eyes â locked on his â flicked down, once, to his mouth⊠and then back.
Her face didnât change.
But her breath did â the faintest shift in rhythm.
And that blush â barely there, like a whisper on porcelain â bloomed at the highest edge of her cheekbone.
Controlled. Composed.
But present.
That was her yes.
Johnny smiled. Barely.
Not triumphant. Not smug.
Just⊠sure.
Sure of her.
Sure of this.
âI wonât take anything,â he murmured. âUnless you give it.â
Still, she didnât speak.
But she didnât pull away either.
And whispered a small âI am aware..â
Barely audible. Barely there.
But it landed like a bell inside his chest.
Her voice â smooth and measured â was confirmation, not surrender.
An acknowledgment.
A permission cloaked in poise.
Johnnyâs chest rose, slow.
He smiled, not wide â but with something real behind it. Something settled
And then that silence â her silence â wasnât cold.
It was deliberate.
It was permission
The silence pressed in.
Close and Intimate.
Like the world had shrunk to two people breathing in time.
Then â quietly, with no ceremony â she said it:
âI like you.â
Not sweet nor coy.
Just⊠honest.
Like she was naming gravity.
Johnnyâs eyes softened. Just a shade. And his smile followed â small, unguarded, more true than anything heâd worn all night. It was the kind of smile a man gives when something rare looks back at him â and doesnât flinch.
He didnât answer.
Didnât ruin it with words.
He just lifted one hand â slow, reverent â and touched her cheek.
His thumb brushed along her jaw, barely there, like tracing the edge of something sacred. And then â as though pulled, not moving â he leaned in.
Their lips met.
Soft and Slow.
Intentional.
It wasnât a promise.
It was a moment â two people suspended in it, perfectly balanced.
And her?
She leaned in very softly.
Didnât lean away.
She accepted the kiss like a queen accepts tribute. Not cold. But composed. A stillness that held power, not distance.
Her hand rose to the back of his neck, fingers slipping into his hair with unshaken control. She kissed him like she was letting him in just far enough â no more.
The kiss deepened, but never rushed. Never to messy. It stayed pretty poised. Measured. Exquisite in its restraint.
He could feel her softly melting in the kiss.
And in that kiss, every locked room in her stayed shut.
Iâve been so busy because of school and work and itâs killing đ the fact that I have like 3 drafts and 3 different types of stories but Iâm WAY to lazy to finish them up. Please bare with me !!!!! Iâll get them done soon and post themđ
synopsis: Y/N spent the whole night upset, literally avoiding doyoungâs touch. But doyoung couldnât understand why â everything was fine before they left the party. He had no idea what caused the sudden shift, but one thing was for sure: he wasnât going to let Y/N stay upset. Doyoung has a foolproof method for making things right â one heâs used before, and letâs just say⊠it never fails
warning: explicit sexual content, oral(f), p in v, vaginal sex, overstimulation, aftercare, soft dom!doyoung, silent treatment, emotional tension, miscomunication, intimacy as conflict resolution, creampie, petnames, cursing.
This was supposed to be a beautiful night.
A reunion, familiar faces, warm music humming through the air, champagne glasses clinking, laughter echoing from every corner. Everyone from university had shown up â older now, dressed a little nicer, maybe more tired, but still carrying the energy of those wild, hopeful years.
Y/n and Doyoung arrived hand in hand. Just like old times.
They were known as the couple back in uni â the soft-hearted ones, the lovers in libraries, the pair always stealing kisses between lectures and holding hands even when no one was watching. Theyâre story was easy to love. Effortless, romantic, the kind of relationship that made people believe in fate again.
So showing up tonight, with their fingers still laced with his, wearing a dress that he complimented three times before you even left the apartment, felt right. They smiled together, greeted friends, exchanged hugs. For a while, it was everything it was supposed to be.
Until it wasnât.
At some point, she lost him.
Not physically â he was still in the same room. Just a few feet away, really. But emotionally, in presence, in warmth⊠he slipped out of her orbit and didnât even realize heâd left her behind.
It started small. A tap on the shoulder from an old friend. A laugh as he turned to hug someone he hadnât seen in years. Y/n let go of his hand then, thinking heâd come back. That heâd pull her close again like he always did.
But he didnât.
Instead, he got swept away. Caught in a current of familiar voices and nostalgia-heavy jokes, bouncing between conversations like a pinball â always in motion, always smiling.
And Y/n⊠she was still standing where he left her.
Y/n tried to be patient. She sipped her drink slowly, the edge of the glass cold against her lips. She smiled politely at people passing by. She even waved to one of her own friends across the room, though the weight in her chest made it hard to hold the gesture for long.
She wasnât mad. Not yet.
Of course he missed them. Of course heâd want to catch up. Two or three years is a long time to go without seeing people who once felt like family.
But as the minutes passed â then the hour â and she watched other couples move like magnets, always touching, always anchored to each other â it started to sting.
There was a girl from her year whose boyfriend had his hand on her waist the entire night. Y/n watched him lean down and kiss her temple as she laughed at something, and she couldnât help but glance across the room to where Doyoung was⊠not looking at her. Again.
Y/n folded her arms tightly across your chest. Not from cold, but from the ache she couldnât name out loud.
At one point, he turned, caught your eye. He smiled â that beautiful, gentle smile that made her heart trip over itself â and waved her over.
Y/n didnât move.
Because she didnât want to walk into a group where she hadnât been invited. She didnât want to stand beside him like a forgotten afterthought, laughing awkwardly at jokes she wasnât a part of.
She didnât want to ask for attention that should have been offered freely.
So she stayed where you were. Quiet. Waiting.
He came back eventually, brushing a hand down her arm. âYou okay, baby?â
She didnât answer.
Her lips barely twitched into a polite smile, but her eyes⊠they didnât meet his.
Still, he didnât quite see it. He kissed the side of her head, wrapped an arm loosely around her waist and said, âIâm just gonna check in with Jaehyun real quick, alright?
He didnât wait for her reply.
And y/n?
She broke just a little.
It wasnât loud. It wasnât dramatic. It wasnât the kind of heartbreak that spilled tears down her cheeks or made her storm out.
It was quiet.
The kind of quiet that presses into her lungs and makes it hard to breathe.
So when he returned again, grinning, soft voice asking, âYou sure youâre okay?â,her only answer was to take a small step away from him.
Then another.
She heard his voice behind her, uncertain, gentle. âBaby?â
But she kept walking.
One hour later,
The event had gone on too long.
At first, sheâd been okay. She smiled, chatted with old friends, laughed at the nostalgic stories that swirled around the room. It felt good to be surrounded by people she knew so well, to reminisce about the university days, to be in Doyoungâs arms when he made a joke and kissed the top of her head.
But then something changed.
Johnny had stood up to give a short speech, a casual address to wrap things up, and everyone began to shift. People naturally gathered around their partners, slipping into each otherâs arms, smiling like they hadnât been apart for years, while the soft music in the background became a quieter hum.
And she stood there, watching.
Doyoung had made his way toward his friends, arms around each otherâs shoulders, laughing with the same warmth heâd always had. He had his friends with their partners right there â and even though they were in pairs, they still shared the same closeness, that bond that had never really changed.
But what about y/n?
She wasnât a part of that circle. Not in that moment. Not to him.
She waited. She waited for him to look your way, for him to sense that something was wrong, that the way heâd been ignoring her all night was eating away at her.
But he didnât.
He didnât look at her. He didnât call her over.
She saw how all the couple were together, glued with each other, in any moment that the wife in the relationship wanted to go somewhere , wouldnât the man excuse them mid conversation to follow his wife? I mean, doesnât that make sense? Surely if the conversation isnât more important then your partner!
She felt a pang in your chest.
It wasnât jealousy. It wasnât anger.
It was loneliness.
Suddenly, she didnât want to be there anymore. It didnât matter that she was happy, that his friends were around him. It didnât matter that she had shared these same moments in the past. What mattered was the quiet distance that had grown between the two of them.
So, without another word, without even looking back, she turned around and walked out of the crowd
It only took about ten seconds.
She was already slipping through the exit, the hum of voices dying behind her, before she heard Doyoung call her name.
âY/N? Hey, waitââ
His voice was panicked. She could hear it in the way his tone raised an octave, that sudden urgency that made her pause just for a split second. But she didnât stop. She kept walking, her heels clicking steadily against the floor, trying to ignore the tightness in her throat.
The sound of his footsteps was closer now, catching up. His hand brushed against your arm, gentle at first, then firm as he turned her to face him.
âY/N⊠whatâs wrong? Are you okay?â
He was breathless, eyes wide, the confusion clouding his face. He looked at her like you were a puzzle he couldnât quite solve, and for a moment, she could see the edges of guilt creep into his gaze. He hadnât realized. He didnât understand what was happening inside her.
âIâm fine,â she whispered, but the words came out clipped, the lie hanging thick in the air. She pulled her arm away from him and took a small step back, keeping her distance. âI just want to go home.â
Doyoung froze for a moment, the hurt flashing across his face before he masked it with that familiar, gentle concern. âYou donât have to go right now. Weâre almost done. Johnnyâs finishing upââ
She couldnât take it anymore.
Your breath caught in her chest, and before you even knew what she were doing, she slapped his hand away. Not hard. But enough. Enough for him to feel the sting.
âI donât care, okay? I said I want to go home,â she repeated, this time your voice firmer, cracking in places.
Doyoung flinched at the sudden shift in your tone. His face softened in confusion, then hurt, then a desperate attempt to understand. He stepped closer, trying to reach for her again, but she took another step back.
âY/N, please, whatâs going on? Youâre acting like you donât want to be with me, and I⊠I donât get it. I donât know what happened.â
His words were gentle, almost pleading, but you couldnât bring yourself to explain. Not now. Not with the weight of it all pressing down on her.
She shook your head, still looking away. âJust take me home, Doyoung. Please.â
He didnât say anything for a moment, staring at her like he was trying to decipher the puzzle pieces scattered in her eyes. Finally, he sighed softly, hands falling to his sides in surrender. There was a moment of stillness, the space between them two thick with unspoken words.
âOkay⊠okay, Iâll take you home,â he murmured, his voice quieter now, just as hurt, but still laced with tenderness.
And so, without another word, he turned toward the door, guiding y/n gently behind him. He didnât press you any further. Not this time. Not when he could see that whatever had happened tonight, whatever he had missed, was too much for her to explain right now.
They both left the event in silence.
The Car Ride
The ride home was thick with silence. The city lights passed by in a blur outside the window, but all she could focus on was the growing pressure in her chest. Doyoungâs knuckles were white on the steering wheel.
âBaby, whatâs up?â he asked softly.
Nothing.
âYou can talk to me, you know?â
Still nothing.
âAre you mad at me?â
She stayed quiet, her eyes not leaving the view outside the window. But she could feel his gaze lingering on her, like he was trying to read her, to unravel the puzzle of why sheâd pulled away.
The silence was louder than her voice ever could be.
He suddenly pulled the car over, the tires crunching lightly against the curb.
She looked away.
Doyoung faced you now, eyes filled with worry, frustration, and a little bit of hurt. âY/N⊠talk to me. Please.â
She looked away, again.
Finally, after a moment of silence, Doyoung sighed, the sound heavy in the air. âFine,â he murmured, his voice no longer teasing, but soft, vulnerable. âIf you want to keep pretending like everythingâs fine, Iâll just sit here and drive you home, Y/N. But I want you to know⊠Iâm still here. I always will be, no matter how stubborn you get.
He let the words hang in the air, the weight of them lingering between you two, and for a moment, you could almost feel the tension in his shoulders.
She didnât answer right away, but you could hear the sincerity in his voice, the way he wasnât pressing her but still trying, in his own way, to get through to her. And as much as she wanted to stay angry, as much as she wanted to keep building that wall, she couldnât help the small shift in her chest.
Doyoung was right.
She were upset, yes. She were hurt, yes. But he was still her Doyoung. The one who knew her better than anyone else.
The silence stretched on, but now it wasnât as suffocating. His words had pierced through the wall sheâd built, and maybe it wasnât going to be fixed immediately, but there was a crack. Just enough for something to slip through.
But she still couldnât look at him. Right now.
âSeriously? Baby, youâve been avoiding me all night, and now weâre just gonna pretend like everythingâs fine?â
Y/nâs voice cracked as she finally spoke, barely above a mumble. âL-Look, I just⊠felt so stupid, standing there by myself all night. Watching other couples stick together while you just⊠disappeared over and over.â
His brows pulled together. âY/N⊠I havenât seen some of them since years. Theyâre my friends too. You shouldnât be upset about that.â
Her stomach dropped.
And just like that, she felt completely misunderstood.
She turned away.
âIâm sorry, okay?â he said softly, pressing a kiss to her cheek. âI didnât mean to make you feel that way.â
Y/n nodded slightly. But her silence returned, cold and cutting
At home
They got home and the room was thick with the tension of unspoken words and simmering frustration. Y/N sat at the edge of the bed, she her beautiful wardrobe on (that doyoung loved), scrolling through her phone like she wasnât fuming beneath the surface. Doyoung watched her for a moment from across the room, his own towel low on his hips, hair still damp, jaw tight.
Heâd spent the whole evening trying â soft questions, gentle tones â and all he got was cold silence. It wasnât like her, not like this. She was never one to ice him out like this without a reason, and now that he knew why, it made him even more frustrated â not because she was wrong, but because she didnât say anything when it mattered.
âIâm done playing games, baby,â he said quietly, walking over.
Y/N didnât even glance up. Scroll. Tap. Silence.
Doyoung dropped to his knees in front of her, eyes dark, intense. His large hands gripped her thighs, spreading them apart before she could blink. Her breath caught â phone slipping from her hand onto the mattress â and she finally looked at him.
âSince you wanna act like a brat the whole nightâŠâ His voice was low, sultry, dangerous. ââŠGuess Iâll have to take that attitude out of you.â
Before she could respond, he dragged her wardrobe open and leaned in, his warm breath brushing against her already sensitive skin. He didnât give her time to think â his tongue was on her, slow and deliberate, licking a long stripe up her center that made her thighs instinctively clamp around his head.
But he was strong â too strong â and he held them open with ease, humming lowly as if enjoying how mad she was.
âYou ignored me the whole night,â he mumbled into her, lips brushing against her soaked folds. âDidnât say a word, not even in the car. Is this what you wanted, baby?â Another flick of his tongue, this time circling her clit just enough to make her hips jerk.
She whimpered, finally. It broke out of her lips like a breath she was holding in all day.
âWhy were you upset, hmm?â he asked, teasing, as his mouth returned to its sinful rhythm â slow, deep licks that had her shaking.
She couldnât speak. Her fingers gripped the sheets, eyes fluttering closed as he kept going. Moans slipped out, soft and involuntary.
âWas it âcause I wasnât glued to you like those other couples?â He kissed her inner thigh now, gently. âBaby⊠youâre mine. I donât need to stick to your side to prove it. I thought you knew that.â
His tongue returned to her clit, and this time it was relentless. She gasped, back arching as her vision blurred. Stars. She was seeing stars.
âD-Doyoung, fuck..wait-â she choked out, finally. Her voice was hoarse with pleasure, broken with emotion.
He didnât stop. âThatâs it, baby. Let it out,â he murmured. âLet go of that attitude. Let me hear you.â
And she did. Loudly.
Y/N was already shaking.
Chest rising and falling in uneven little breaths, thighs trembling against Doyoungâs shoulders. Her release had just barely faded â the kind of orgasm that left her head fuzzy and her body too sensitive to think straight â but Doyoung wasnât done.
Not even close.
He stayed between her legs like he belonged there. And to be fair, he did.
âDoyoungââ she whimpered, voice high and breathy, her fingers buried in his hair now, gripping like it was the only thing anchoring her to the planet.
âHmm?â His voice was muffled as he pressed another open-mouthed kiss to her still-pulsing clit. âYou sound so pretty, baby.â
âI⊠I canâtâ itâs too much,â she whispered, trying to pull away weakly. But her body betrayed her, hips twitching forward with every slow, teasing lick of his tongue.
âToo much?â he echoed, tilting his head slightly, eyes meeting hers from between her thighs â all heat and devotion and soft control. âBut youâre still holding onto me, bunny.â
And she was.
White-knuckled, fingers tangled in his hair, nails gently scraping his scalp like she couldnât decide if she wanted to push him away or pull him deeper.
He smirked â just a little â and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her core. âYouâre so sensitive⊠but so greedy, huh?â
âDoyoung, waitââ she gasped again, her voice catching as his tongue started moving slowly once more, dragging across her folds like he had all the time in the world. Like he wanted to taste every second of her unraveling.
Her body jerked and arched as the feeling built again, but this time it was different â hazy, hot, almost too much.
It felt like heaven.
Her thighs tried to close around his head, but he gently pushed them apart, never rough, always just firm enough. âNo hiding from me now. You can take it, baby. You want to take it, donât you?â
She couldnât answer. Her words dissolved into broken moans, small gasps of his name. She felt like she was floating â like her whole body was buzzing, toes curling, stomach clenching as another wave began to crash down too soon, too fast.
He flattened his tongue, pressing it right where she needed, and murmured against her:
âCome for me again, baby. Just one more. You can do it. Be good for me.â
And with a desperate cry, she did â gripping his soft hair tighter, back arching off the bed, thighs squeezing around him as she shattered for the second time, even harder than before.
He didnât stop kissing her through it, letting her ride it out, holding her thighs gently like she was fragile now, like she might break apart completely if he wasnât careful.
When she finally went limp, he looked up at her, face shining with devotion, lips red and wet and so smug.
âYou okay, bunny?â he asked softly, crawling up the bed to hover over her.
She nodded slowly, still breathless, eyes glassy, voice small
After her second orgasm Y/N was still catching her breath, body flushed and glowing, skin dewy with the heat of everything heâd just done to her.
Her legs trembled against the mattress, chest rising and falling with delicate shudders. Doyoung hovered above her now, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes full of something deeper than lust â like reverence. Like love.
âYou okay?â he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead.
She nodded, cheeks burning. âI⊠yeah. Iâm justââ
She couldnât even finish the sentence. Her body felt like water. Like candle wax, melted and soft.
âSensitive?â he finished for her, kissing her forehead gently.
She gave the smallest nod, and he smiled â that warm, adoring kind of smile that said heâd never loved anyone more than her in this exact moment.
âThen Iâll be soft,â he whispered, like a promise.
And when he kissed her lips â it wasnât rushed. It wasnât hungry. It was deep. Slow, with lips sliding perfectly over hers, like he wanted to taste her sighs, like he was memorizing the shape of her mouth all over again. His tongue brushed hers just once, slow and sensual, making her whimper quietly.
Every part of her responded, sensitive and twitching beneath his touch as he pressed his hips closer, hand sliding down to line himself up against her, but not pushing in just yet. His tip brushed over her folds, slick and swollen from how thoroughly heâd ruined her, and she gasped softly, tightening her grip around his arms.
âIâll go slow,â he said again, his nose brushing against hers.
And thenâhe slid into her.
All the way.
One long, deep, achingly slow stroke that had her entire body arching up into his. She clung to him, arms wrapping around his shoulders, thighs trembling as she gasped into his mouth.
âDoyoung,â she whimpered, overwhelmed. It felt like too much and not enough at the same time. Like her body didnât know how to handle being filled after how sensitive she still was.
âIâve got you,â he whispered, kissing her lips again, holding her face gently between his hands like she might break. âYou feel so good, baby⊠so warm, so perfect around me.â
She whimpered again, eyes fluttering closed as he slowly rocked into her, letting her feel every inch of him with every deep thrust.
âJust let me take care of you, yeah?â he murmured against her lips, pressing kisses to her cheeks, her chin, the corner of her mouth. âYouâre mine. My baby. My everything.â
Her hands fisted in his hair again, tugging him closer, her legs wrapping around his waist now, as if trying to pull him deeper â even through the overstimulation.
âI-I, f-fuck, I love you,â she gasped, voice cracking with the emotion of it.
Doyoung kissed her harder this time, a soft moan caught in his throat. âI love you more.â
And then he started moving a little deeper, a little steadier â not fast, but just enough to make her feel every stroke. His pelvis met hers with slow, tender rhythm, the wet sound of their bodies meeting filling the room with something intimate, something sacred.
She whined his name again and again, hips rolling up to meet him, even when it was too much â especially when it was too much.
And every time her breath hitched, he kissed her.
Every twitch, every moan, every tear that pricked at the corners of her eyes â he met it all with love.
âYouâre doing so good for me,â he whispered against her lips. âSo beautiful like this⊠look at you. Taking me so well.â
Her release snuck up on her this time â soft and overwhelming, like a wave crashing in slow motion. Her nails dug into his back, her whole body shaking as she gasped into his mouth, lips parted, eyes fluttering shut.
He felt it â the way her walls clenched tight around him, how she cried out his name like it was the only word she knew.
Doyoung came with her, hips stilling, head tucked into her neck as he groaned low and quiet, holding her close as he emptied himself inside her.
And then â silence.
Just their breathing. The thud of his heart against her chest. The warmth of his body, still buried inside her, unmoving.
He pressed one kiss to her forehead.
âYouâre everything to me,â he whispered.
She was limp in his arms, eyes glazed with that post-orgasm daze, skin flushed and glowing as her fingers absentmindedly traced patterns along his shoulder.
But Doyoung? He was watching her like a man who wasnât finished.
Not even close.
Still inside her, still thick and warm and twitching with the aftershock of his own release â and yet, the way she clenched around him when she shifted just slightly, the breathy little whimper that left her lips when his hips rolled instinctively against hers â yeah.
She wasnât done either.
âStill so tight around me,â he murmured, nuzzling into her neck, voice low and rasped from how hard heâd groaned her name. âYouâre not gonna let me go, huh?â
Her response was a soft moan, thighs twitching weakly against his sides.
âDoyoungâŠâ
That voice â whiny and breathless and wrecked â made something dark flicker in his eyes. His hand slid up between them, fingers brushing over her already swollen clit, and she gasped, arching slightly.
âSo sensitive,â he whispered, kissing her jaw. âBut youâre still dripping, baby. Still greedy for me.â
Her body tensed and pulsed around him at that, and his smirk deepened.
âYou want more?â
She nodded slowly, too dazed to pretend otherwise.
He thrust into her once â slow, deep â and the sound she made was something between a gasp and a cry. Her nails sank into his skin again, trying to ground herself, but it was useless. She was gone.
And he loved it.
âUse your words,â he murmured, teasing her the way he always did when she got like this. âOr do I have to fuck the attitude out of you again?â
âI-I want it,â she choked out. âIâ pleaseââ
âThatâs my good girl.â
Then he pulled out â not all the way, just enough to make her feel the slow drag of him leaving her â and slammed back in, hard enough that the bed creaked and she sobbed into his shoulder.
This wasnât soft anymore.
This was him fucking her through the overstimulation, holding her legs open, his hand at her throat (just resting, just enough to remind her who she belonged to), whispering the filthiest things in the sweetest tone.
âStill feel ignored, baby?â he breathed against her lips, fucking into her slow and hard now, making her feel it.
She couldnât even answer. Her mouth fell open, eyes rolling back, and he laughed softly â loving it.
âYouâre too cockdrunk to talk now, huh?â he teased. âMy perfect little mess.â
He kissed her again â deep, possessive â and when she whimpered, he swallowed the sound like it fueled him.
âYouâre mine,â he whispered against her tongue. âSay it.â
âYours,â she gasped. âYours, yoursââ
âThatâs right. All mine. This perfect little pussyââ he rolled his hips into her again, dragging another filthy moan from her mouthâ âmade for me.â
Her fourth orgasm hit harder than either of them expected.
She clenched around him so tight he nearly lost control, her cries muffled by his mouth as he kissed her through it, never letting her fall. Her body shook like she couldnât even process the pleasure anymore, like she was in another world.
Doyoung came right after, voice ragged, muttering her name like a prayer as he spilled inside her again, panting against her mouth as his thrusts finally slowed.
And then â quiet.
Just the sound of their hearts racing, skin slick with sweat, breaths mingling in the space between them.
He didnât pull out. He just held her, arms wrapping around her protectively, kissing her cheeks, her eyelids, her lips over and over.
âYou good, baby?â he asked softly.
She gave a tiny, weak nod. âI canât feel my legs.â
He smiled, pressing his forehead against hers. âThatâs fair.â
And then â a final kiss. Tender, warm, reverent.
âI love you,â he whispered.
âEven when Iâm bratty?â
He laughed into her neck. âEspecially when youâre bratty.
Y/N could barely keep her eyes open.
Her body was warm and heavy, her limbs loose and trembling, chest rising and falling in slow, deep breaths as she lay on the bed, completely bare and utterly wrecked. Her skin still glowed with the aftermath of everything Doyoung had given her â pleasure layered on top of pleasure, like her body didnât even know how to return to Earth.
But Doyoung â he was already moving.
He didnât say a word at first, just pressed a tender kiss to her forehead before slipping off the bed, walking softly to the bathroom. She barely had time to register the sound of water running before he was back, warm, damp towel in hand.
âDonât move,â he murmured, kneeling beside her again. âJust let me take care of you, my baby.â
His voice was so gentle, like velvet against her skin.
She made a soft noise â somewhere between a hum and a whimper â and he smiled softly, brushing her hair from her face. Then, slowly and carefully, he began to clean her up â warm towel gliding over her thighs, her tummy, between her legs with the kind of touch that didnât stir arousal, only comfort. Like he was cherishing her body after worshipping it so completely.
âYou did so well,â he whispered, pressing a kiss to the inside of her knee, then her hip. âIâm so proud of you.â
When he was done, he dropped the towel gently to the side and reached for the bottle of oil on the nightstand â the one he always used when she was sore from dancing or long days.
âStill okay?â he asked quietly, and she nodded, still too blissed out to speak.
So he poured a little into his palms and rubbed them together, then started with her legs â soft, deep motions, easing the tension out of her trembling muscles. He worked his way up slowly, hands sliding over her thighs, her hips, her lower back. Always checking her face, always watching her reactions.
When she let out a tiny breath â half moan, half sigh â he leaned down and kissed her shoulder.
âYouâre safe,â he whispered against her skin. âYouâre mine. And sorry baby that I made u feel alone tonight. I got carried, and I shouldnât have. Please forgive me, hmm?â
Y/n just nodded with a little smile, since she felt so weak.
âLetâs get you warm,â he said softly, scooping her up into his arms like she weighed nothing.
She made a tiny noise of protest â half shy, half too tired to move â but he kissed her cheek and carried her to the bathroom.
The shower was already running.
He set her down carefully, helping her step in, adjusting the water so it was just the right amount of warm. Then he joined her â not to touch, not to tease â but just to wash her. His hands were careful with the soap, gliding over her body with reverence, cleaning every inch of her like she was something sacred. When she leaned into his chest, too weak to stand on her own, he just held her. (princess treatment, top tier!!)
âIâve got you,â he murmured, kissing her temple under the spray.
After, he dried her off with a fresh towel, careful not to miss a single drop. He wrapped her in one of his oversized shirts and her softest pair of sleep shorts, pulling the fabric over her hips slowly like she was delicate porcelain.
âYou good, baby?â he asked once she was fully dressed, brushing a thumb over her cheek.
She nodded, finally able to whisper, âYouâre spoiling me.â
He just smiled.
âGet comfy. Iâll be right back.â
She sank into the couch in the corner of their room, wrapped in warm cotton and still floating from all the affection, and when she looked toward the kitchenâŠ
There he was.
Doyoung, shirtless, hair damp, cutting fruit with practiced ease. He plated them on a tray with two glasses of cold water, some tiny cookies he knew she liked, and a soft little kiss-me-later smile on his face.
âSnack time,â he said sweetly, walking back over. âYou need sugar after that.â
She blinked at him, still breathless from the whole night.
âI donât deserve you.â
He set the tray down, cupped her face, and kissed her soft â slow, sweet, deep.
âYes, you do,â he murmured against her lips. âYou deserve everything.â
Why did it take me a whole day almost to make this? But anyways i hope yâall like it!!! Tried my best with the smut again hope you like that cause the smutty part was a bit longđđ. Thank you for reading!!!!!đđđđ
thank you so much for requesting!!! means so much to me <333 @hyuckiemybaby đđ
Prank Gone Sweet
pairings: haechan!husband x spouse!reader
synopsis: You, the mischievous partner that you are, decided to prank your husband Haechan after seeing tons of TikToks about it. You planned to ignore your clingy husband for an entire dayâno kisses, no cuddles, not even hugs allowedâand Haechan was going absolutely crazy because of it.
genre: fluff, romance, comedy, slice of life, slightly angsty
You knew what you were about to do was wrong. You knew that ignoring Haechan for an entire day would upset him terribly. But you still decided to go through with it. Today, you were going to ignore your husband for a whole day. A whole day. By ignoring, you meant: when he tried to talk to you, you would avoid him or skip over him; if he even tried to kiss you, you'd find a way to avoid it; if he tried to hug you, youâd avoid it at all costsâno cuddles, nothing.
You knew it would be hard because you loved Haechanâs affection, maybe even more than you liked to admit. But today, you didnât care. You came up with this idea after watching TikToks about this very thing, and it was hilarious. So thatâs what you wanted to try.
The affection blackout began in the morning.
It was just the usual routine, but today, âMhmm⊠morning, love,â he croaked, his voice raspy with sleep as he reached for you under the blankets, already trying to nuzzle into your shoulder like a koala. But you slipped out of bed without a word. Without even looking at him. His arms closed around air. He blinked, dazed. âHuhâŠ?â No kiss. No hug. No look. Not even a word?
âMaybe theyâre in a rush and had to go to the toilet really urgently,â he mumbled to himself, still in disbelief. âIâll wait until they come back,â he said softly, falling back to sleep, obviously expecting you to come back. That how your usual morning would go. You wake up, you talk for a bit, maybe kiss for a bit and cuddle and then fall back to sleep for until like noon.
Fifty minutes later, Haechan woke up to an empty bed. He didnât feel anyone come back, so you probably didnât return. He got up from the cozy soft bed, made the bed, then set everything neatly before stepping out of the room to search for you, calling your name softly. After searching for you for a while and getting no response, he found you at the table, already done with your breakfast. Your plate was empty except for a few crumbs. You were drinking your little tea.
He walked up to you, trying to greet you again. âGood morning again, baby. Why didnât you come back to bed?â he mumbled. He leaned down to try and kiss your cheek, but you shifted just enough so that his lips met only air. âOhâŠ?â he muttered in surprise.
He tried again, thinking that maybe it was just a morning thing. But once again, he met only air. You moved away before he could touch you. Without even looking at him, you went to the bathroom. He couldnât see your face since you were avoiding him, but you just knew he was making that unbearably cute, pouty face. Your baby.
Two hours later, it was about noon, and you had been ignoring Haechan for three hours. You could tell he was getting worried. He kept following you around, trying to figure out if something was wrong. Had he done something bad yesterday? Had he forgotten something important? He checked everything but found nothing. He was starting to get frustrated. He tried to talk to you so many times, but all you did was avoid him or respond with dry answersâwithout looking at him.
âSoooo⊠Iâve done my math. And Iâve now been denied affection for three hours and ten minutes,â he said, still trying to get your attention.
You didnât answer.
He placed a hand on his chest dramatically. âOh my God, Y/n, my love⊠why are you ignoring me? Iâm literally about to die, and you donât care?â he whined, his tone exaggerated.
You wanted to laugh, but you held it in and just hummed, continuing to scroll on your phone.
Then you got up, and he thought you were finally going to hug him. But you just walked right past him as if he was nothing.
Haechan sighed dramatically. âSo this is what betrayal feels likeâŠâ he muttered, his voice heavy with mock sadness.
You went into the bathroom to get ready. You were going for a walk by yourself. You took about an hour to shower, do your hair, and get ready. When you came out of the bathroom, Haechan was standing there in the same spot with a huge pout. He looked so cute, but you kept your face neutral and walked past him like he was invisible.
âSweetheart, where are you going? Want me to come with youââ *CLACK*. You slammed the door shut, completely ignoring him. Thatâs when he realized things had gotten serious.
You felt guilty for what you were doing to Haechan, so you decided to buy his favorite snack as a peace offering after the prank.
Haechan kept calling and texting you, but you ignored them all. You saw seven missed calls and sixteen messages. You felt bad, but you also found the situation so funny. You kept walking, doing groceries, and running errands.
After two hours, you returned home, and there he wasâHaechan, standing right in front of you, arms open wide, waiting for you to hug him. This was the moment you could finally look him in the eyes. He looked so sad and sulky, like a little baby bear who had lost its mommy bear. His beautiful, round, dark eyes were pleading for some affection. But you just took off your shoes and walked right past him, ignoring his outstretched arms. He stood there like a forgotten puppy, dressed in your oversized sweater that practically swallowed him whole, sleeves dangling past his hands. In one arm, he clutched your shared stuffed animalâhis emotional support bear during this tragic crisis. His lip trembled. His eyes had a dramatic, glassy sheen, as if he were one breath away from singing a breakup song.
âI just want a hug,â he whispered, his voice shaky and soft, like a war veteran recalling a painful memory.
You walked right past him, silent.
He gasped softly, scandalized. Then he turned on his heel and followed you. His sock-covered feet slid slightly on the hardwood as he whined, âPlease, just one little cuddle. A crumb of affection. A forehead press. A pinky graze. Iâm begging you, Iâm on my knees here!â
You sat down at your desk and opened your laptop, unmoved.
He stood behind you, arms stretched out wide like a human scarecrow, hopeful for a hug you had no intention of giving. When you didnât turn aroundâdidnât glance, didnât even breathe in his directionâhe dropped to the floor with full theatrical flair. His limbs flopped dramatically, like a soggy towel.
âSighhhh... I feel so, so, so sick. Maybe even lovesick. Sighhh⊠Iâm ABOUT TO DIEEEE!!! The only thing that could ACTUALLY cure me right now is the AFFECTION of a PARTNERRRR!â
You ignored him.
Curled into the fetal position beside your chair, he groaned as if he were being denied oxygen. âItâs been eight hours. Eight. My skin is dry. My soul is brittle. Iâm touch-starved. I think my heart is shriveling up like a raisin.â
You kept typing, unfazed.
âIâm hallucinating. I swear the microwave winked at me earlier. And Iâm pretty sure the couch whispered, âI miss you too, baby.ââ
Still, you said nothing.
He let out the loudest sigh known to man. âIâm so close to going to the neighborâs dog for affection. Pudding loves me.â
You bit back a laugh.
He peeked up at you from the floor, looking utterly betrayed. âYou smirked. I saw that. Thereâs still love in your heartâI can fix this.â
You turned your screen slightly to hide your grin.
âOkay,â he said, now flat on his back. âIf I die like this, just know I loved you. Even when you were cruel. Even when you refused to hold me like the delicate flower I am.â
You still didnât respond.
âBut itâs fine. Iâm fine. Just a broken man. Hugless. Cuddleless. Cold.â
He started humming a sad tune under his breathâoff-key and full of sufferingâlike he was scoring the soundtrack to his own tragic documentary. âThe Day They Forgot Their Husband.â
Thirty minutes later, you were on the couch reading when Haechan collapsed beside you with a dramatic sigh.
âSIGHHHHHH⊠oh, how I wish my sweet, amazing partner would just hug me and kiss me and tell me that all of this is just a silly prank and that it will never happen againnn,â he said, loud enough for you to hear.
You wanted to roll your eyes, but you had to act nonchalant.
He flopped across the cushions like a dying Victorian man, one hand dramatically placed on his forehead. âIf I perish, tell my fans I died touch-deprived.â
Silence.
âI could be getting love right now, but instead Iâm sitting here like a sad, wet paper towel.â
You turned a page.
He groaned louder.
You donât leave me any choice,â he muttered dramatically.
Haechan was about to jump-hug youâsomething he liked to do just to annoy you. But you quickly got up before he could reach you, and he ended up landing on the empty couch with his eyes still closed.
Thatâs when he dramatically said, âOh, so you do hear me?
Still nothing.
Finally, he sat up, narrowed his eyes, and poked your arm. âDonât think I wonât make noise until you acknowledge me.â
He just kept whining, and you couldnât help yourself. You glanced once. He gasped. âSHE LOOKED.â
You quickly looked away again.
âNOOOOO.â
You were making dinner, and Haechan kept looking at you, squinting his eyes as if he were trying to investigate you. He hated not being able to read you.
âSIGHHHHHHH⊠DEAR, DEAR, DEAR DIARY. Itâs now day 2637382 without my partner giving me affection and IGNORING me. And Iâm STRAINING, losing hearing in my left eye and taste in my right,â he said dramatically. He threw himself dramatically on the counter, he was whining so much. Heâs head was against the counter looking down.
You almost rolled your eyes, but thankfully he didnât see. You ignored him again.
âBaby, whatâs going onnnn. Mhmmm..?â he asked really frustrated now.
You also noticed even though, he would die for a affection right nowâhe still respected your boundaries. After multiple time trying of hugging you, kissing, cuddling with you, of course! But he after he noticed that things started to get serious, he tried to avoid making u more upset, even though he doesnât know what u have. He still doesnât know how u feel, though.
He started to get bad thoughts. Thatâs why he tried to not worsen the situation, even though he has no idea whatâs going on.
âLove, talk me, yeah? You know u can tell me everything ,right? I donât know whatâs going on in that pretty head of yours, but Iâm always here. You know that, right?,â He said obviously overwhelmed now.
Ohhhh this was so hard but you still didnât respond.
âBaby?â
âMy love?â
âSweetheart?â
Aanddd he still got no respond.
He sighed and frowned, his glossy eyes and huge pout evident. âYou know what? Whatever. Iâll just leave you alone since you donât care about me,â he said, his voice cracking.
His voice was so sad when he saw you still ignoring him. He looked down and walked away slowly to your shared room.
You actually felt sad now. You hated seeing him like this.
10:10 PM
It started simply. When he came out of the bedroom.
You didnât look at him when you passed him in the kitchen. No cheek peck. No nose nudge. No playful pat on the butt. Nothing. He didn't even try to tease anymore.
Haechan blinked, standing there with a cookie halfway to his mouth, watching you breeze past him like he was invisible.
âBaby?â he called, tone soft, cautious. âYou good?â
You didnât answer. Just grabbed your water and walked out.
He followed.
âHey, seriouslyâare you okay?â he asked, stepping in front of you, voice dipping lower, more careful now. âDid I do something?â
Your silence stayed steady. Intentional.
His brows furrowed, eyes scanning your face. âYouâre not⊠leaving me, right?â
That made your heart stop.
The way he said itâquietly, like he was afraid to give the thought too much weightâhit you in the chest. There was no teasing in his voice, no dramatic gasp, no flailing arms. Just honest-to-god worry.
âI mean⊠youâre not done with me, right?â he asked again, softer this time. âBecause if I messed up, you can tell me. Justâsay something.â
You nearly dropped the prank right then.
His fingers hovered, like he wanted to reach out but didnât want to push you further away.
The urge to hug him, to cup his cheeks and say of course not burned in your chestâbut you reminded yourself: it was just a prank. Just a test.
So instead⊠you turned and walked away.
Behind you, he stood still, a little stunned, a little scared. You heard the whisper under his breath:
âPlease donât leave.â
His voice had cracked just a littleâjust enough to shatter every ounce of resolve you had left. It wasnât dramatic, it wasnât playful. It was raw, afraid. That quiet kind of panic someone hides in their chest until it slips out without warning.
Your heart dropped straight to your stomach.
You turned around slowly. Haechan was still standing there, arms hanging useless at his sides, his expression caught somewhere between confusion and heartbreak. His eyes were wide and glistening like he was holding back too many thoughts at once. And even though he wasnât crying, he looked⊠broken.
And that was it.
No more prank. No more silence. You closed the space between you in two quick steps, grabbed his face in both hands, and attacked.
Kisses. Everywhere. Fast and desperate, like you were trying to erase the whole day from his memory. His cheeks. His forehead. His temples. His jaw. The corner of his mouth. His nose. His lipsâonce, twice, over and over again.
He gasped at first, caught off guard. âWhâbaby?â
But you didnât let him speak. You kissed him again, harder this time, hands running into his hair, tugging him close, smothering every worried inch of him with your lips.
His arms finally movedâinstinctively wrapping around you, clutching you close like heâd been underwater and you were air. âOh my god,â he breathed between kisses, âyou still love me. I thoughtâI thought you wereââ
You pulled back just enough to look him in the eye, hands still cupping his cheeks.
âIâm so sorry,â you whispered. âIt was a prank. A stupid prank. I wanted to see how long youâd last without affection andâand you looked so sad, Hyuck, I couldnât do it anymore.â
He stared at you for a second, eyes wide with disbelief. Then he groaned, half-laughing, half-exasperated, and pulled you into a tight, crushing hug.
âYou tried to prank me?â he muttered into your shoulder. âWith silence? With no cuddles? Do you want me dead?!â
You giggled, breath still shaking. âYou didnât even last an hour.â
âI died at breakfast,â he grumbled, rocking you back and forth in his arms. âEverything since then was my ghost. A lonely, hug-deprived ghost.â
You kissed the shell of his ear. âWell, youâre alive now.â
He pulled back just enough to look at youâhands still holding your waist like he wasnât planning on letting go for the next ten years. âPromise me youâll never do that again.â
âI promise.â
âI almost hugged the fridge.â
You laughed again, wiping a thumb across his cheek. âI missed you too, clingy boy.â
He narrowed his eyes. âClingy husband,â he corrected proudly, even through the lingering nerves in his chest.
Then he was kissing you againâslow this time. Soft. Intentional. Like he was memorizing the shape of you. His hands never stopped movingâyour waist, your back, your jawâjust making sure you were still real, still there, still his.
âIâm not going anywhere,â you whispered, forehead pressed against his.
âI know,â he murmured, voice finally steady. âI just needed to hear it.â
And from that moment on, he didnât let you out of his sightâor armsâfor the rest of the night.
Every time you moved an inch away, he was there.
Clingy? Maybe.
Loved? Absolutely.
And this time, you gave him all the cuddles he could ever wantâwithout making him beg.
Hi, can you write when you ignore Husband Haechan as a prank (refusing his kisses, hugs, cuddles) to see how long he lasts without and then smothering him in kisses afterwards please?
OH MYYY GAWDDD YESSSS!!!!! definitlyyy!! I like how u think.
synopsis: y/n teases Jeno, the quiet, always serious nerd, during a chemistry study session that she begged for to have with him cause she was failing. She starts getting bored and thought she could lead him on to have some fun together like she does with every boy. That should be easy right? Men stay men. They wouldn't say no if such an attractive, hot girl asked to play around a bit. But that isn't the case for Jeno though.
genre: suggestive, angst(?) , dark romance, smut (18+ mdni!!!!)
warning: cursing, insults, toxicness, sexual tension, manipulation, name-calling ( slut, whore..), harsh behaviour. jeno doesn't give a fuck about y/n he only feels pity for her, masturbation(f).
The soft buzz of light pouring in from the window fills the room â an otherwise calm and empty classroom that suddenly feels alive with tension. You were staring down at your chemistry textbook, and in front of you sat Lee Jeno, the infamous nerd of your class.
You might ask yourself: Why the hell are the quiet, reserved Lee Jeno and Y/N â the loud, popular, stunning player of the school â alone together in a classroom?
Well, letâs just say Y/N practically forced Jeno to help her with chemistry. After two weeks of nonstop begging, texting (only to be left on seen or delivered), calling and hearing nothing but voicemail â he finally gave in. Out of pity.
Sheâs been failing all semester. Repeating her year, even. Thatâs how she ended up in the same class as Jeno in the first place.
Again.
He was explaining something about covalent bonds, sharp and precise like always â but his lips moved in a way that made your stomach twist. And God, that too-tight uniform shirt, thank God it was hot today and he removed his jacket, the school uniform didn't have sleeves, ..to show his veins⊠You were losing focus fast.
Her leg brushed his under the table.
He ignored it.
Y/n leaned forward, chin resting in your hand, eyes dragging up and down his face. "Youâre actually really cute, Jeno," you said, voice light, teasing. "Like, seriously... if you didnât act like a robot, you could pull so many girls."
His pencil froze mid-sentence.
He slowly turned his head to look at her â and for a second, y/n swore something in his eyes shifted. Not surprised. Not flustered.
Irritated.
âYou think thatâs what I want?â he said bluntly. âRandom girls? Like you?â
Y/n smirked. "Ouch."
And yet... he stood up. Walked around the desk, closer. Slowly. Like a storm about to hit.
Y/n looked up at him from your seat, heart ticking faster.
âI know what youâre doing,â he said quietly. âYou act like youâre in control. But Iâve seen girls like you. You throw yourself at anyone who gives you two seconds. And when they donâtâŠâ He paused. "You push harder."
Y/N stood too. Close now. Chest to chest.
âMaybe I just like a challenge,â she whispered.
He tilted his head slightly. Studying her.
And then â he kissed her.
Hard.
His hand fisted your hair, the other gripping your waist like he was punishing you for trying. His mouth crushed against yours with zero hesitation, all teeth and frustration. There was nothing gentle about it. Nothing sweet. Just pressure and heat and power.
You moaned into it.
Your knees buckled. His body caught yours. For a second, you thought maybe â maybe â he wanted this too.
And then â he pulled back.
You were dazed, lips swollen, breathless.
But Jeno?
Jeno didnât even blink.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Looked at you like something dirty under his shoe.
âThatâs all it takes, huh?â he said coldly. âA few words, and youâre begging to be touched.â
Your smile faded.
âYou think I kissed you because I wanted to?â He let out a breath that was almost a laugh â but not the kind that warms her. It was cruel. âI kissed you because I knew youâd fall apart.â
Her chest tightened.
âYouâre disgusting,â he muttered. âYouâll spread your legs like a whore for anything that looks your way, and then you pretend it means something.â
She didnât say anything.
âPathetic,â he spat. âYou cling to people who donât even know your name just to feel something like a slut. Get a life.â
Then he turned, without a second glance, and walked out.
The classroom door slammed behind him.
Silence.
She stood frozen, heart hammering in her throat. His voice still echoing in her ears.
Disgusting. Pathetic.
Her hands trembled.
And yet...
A slow laugh escaped your lips.
She wiped your mouth, lips still tingling.
âThat asshole,â she whispered, smiling to herself. âI fucking need him.â
Later that night
The clinking of dishes, the hum of her mom talking about something mundane â Y/N barely heard any of it.
She sat at the dinner table, nodding occasionally, chewing like a robot. Her body was there. Her mind wasnât.
Not since the classroom.
Not since him.
âDid you see your grades yet?â her mom asked.
âNo,â she lied, pushing food around her plate. âIâve been⊠busy.â
Her mom kept talking, but her voice faded into white noise.
Jenoâs voice was louder in her head.
Pathetic.
Youâll fall apart for anyone who touches you.
Get a life.
God.
Her breath caught.
She didnât stay long at the table. She mumbled something about being tired and went straight to the bathroom. The second the warm water hit her skin, she shut her eyes tight â hoping to wash it off.
But it didnât work.
She could still feel his hand in her hair. His lips on hers. The way his body pinned her like she was nothing. And everything.
She dried off quickly, barely aware of the towel in her hands. Threw on a tight shirt, short shorts, and climbed into bed â but sleep was the last thing on her mind.
The room was dark, lit only by the faint glow of her phone screen. She scrolled, but every notification felt empty.
Why canât I stop thinking about him?
She pulled the covers over her, legs curling up as if to contain the tension flooding her body. Her mind raced.
The kiss.
The heat.
His eyes.
The way he didnât care.
And it made her stomach twist. It made her breath hitch.
He didnât even like her. He found her disgusting.
And yet... she wanted more.
She clenched her jaw, whispering his name under her breath like a curse.
âFuck, Lee Jeno,â she hissed, covering her face with her arm.
Her body was still aching. Still burning. And it wasnât going to stop.
Not until she saw him again.
Her sheets were too warm.
Or maybe it was her.
Y/N rolled over for the third time, staring at the ceiling like it held some kind of answer. But her body wouldnât calm down. Her legs refused to stay still. Her skin felt hypersensitive, every nerve wired and awake â all because of one person.
Jeno.
She groaned, dragging her fingers through her hair in frustration. The moment kept replaying â not just the kiss, but the coldness. The insult. The way he had looked at her like she wasnât even worth his attention.
It shouldâve hurt.
It did.
But it also left something inside her aching. Pulling tight. Throbbing in the pit of her stomach, low and relentless.
She clenched her thighs together.
Still not enough.
He hates me.
He really, really hates me.
And yet... he kissed her like he wanted to devour her.
That kiss. It wasnât sweet or fake. It was raw. Angry. Possessive.
Y/N could still feel the grip of his hand on her waist. The taste of him.
She buried her face into the pillow, panting softly, heart racing with every image that flickered through her head.
The ache between her legs turned into something unbearable.
She whispered his name like it was the only thing keeping her tethered.
"Fuck..." she exhaled, breathless.
"Lee Jeno."
She took her hand and placed it close to her core, soflty carresing the place first, and then slipping her hand in her like shorts meeting her clit and rubbing on it, with only one thing in mind. Lee fucking Jeno.
Her breathing picked up. Chest rising. Her eyes shut tight.
She kept rubbing and rubbing, feeling herself get super sensitive, with a soft sigh, she beganâher finger finding it's way in. Pushing her fingers so deep inside. It's just went in sooo easily, that's how wet she was. Going from slow to very fast. Her entire body jolted. She was trembling.
Oh, how she wished that Jeno was the one having his fingers deeeppp into her and not herself. She needs him so bad.
She placed her other hand on her mouth so she wouldn't make noise for her mom, hips rolling up to meet her fingers more, to get more friction, even when it was too much â especially when it was too much.
She does this often though, but today she felt more sensitive then usual.
Just because she was thinking of him. Imagining that her fingers were his. While he was hurling every cruel name he could think ofâŠ
Her release snuck up on her this time â soft and overwhelming, like a wave crashing in slow motion.
Her body pulsed. Her mind unraveled.
No boy had ever made her feel this way. Not from a kiss. Not from a rejection. Not from a single word.
And now?
Now, she was ruined.
Hope you liked this!!! Again i'm not very good with smutty stuff, but i hope this is good for you guys!!! Let me know if u guys want a part 2 maybeee?????
synopsis: living together with your boyfriend haechan, y/n quickly learned that haechan is very extra when it comes to attention and affection. He can't help it, he loves you to much.. Always craving closseness, being close to you. Whether it's hugging you, smothering you with kisses or just simply being so close to you. And you actually enjoyed it but would u admit? Mmm no, simply because you already know that he knew how much u enjoy it. That's how well he knows u..
"Mhmm... Hyuckk i can't breath."
You could feel his warm breath against your neck, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. Haechan had pratically thrown himself on top of you, laying his head on your chest murmuring a small "I can't help it.", his voice muffeled against your shirt ( that you stole from him ) You giggled at his cuteness, reaching down to play with his soft messy hair.
it's started getting uncomfortable though, for you. You gently tried to push him off of you, but his grip only tightened. He looked at you with those eyes, those eyes who were so familiar to you since you saw Haechan almost every day. Those beautiful wide, dark puppy-like eyes. You couldn't help but melt for those.
"Babyy, stop pushing me away. Don't u love me?," he said with a whiny voice, pouting a little bit before sliding his head back on your chest, as if you were his pillow. You just rolled your eyes and murmurred jokingly "here he goes again.."
But Haechan wasn't done yet. He looked up to you with big, doe, dark eyes, slightly pouting in a way that could no longer let you stay upset.
"You know you love me," he said, his voice thick with affection as he titled his head to kiss your neck, his lips lingering there. The ticklish feeling made u squirm slightly, you put your hands on his shoulder, but didn't actually push him away.
He didn't stop there. He kept kissing you. He kissed u on your cheek, neck, ears , nose , lips. You felt him smothering you with kisses and pecks. You actually felt so loved.
That's when he suddenly stopped kissing u, you guys made long comfortable eye-contact. And that's when you both understood what u wanted. And Haechan took the first step (as he should)
You felt your heart race as his lips hovered just above yours. The air between you two felt charged, like everything around you disappeared. Slowly, Haechan leaned in, his lips soft and warm against yours. The kiss started slow, tentative, as if he was savoring the moment.
But it didnât take long for it to deepen. His hands slid up to your neck, pulling you closer, tilting your head so he could deepen the kiss even more. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, and the way he kissed youâslow, but desperate, like he couldnât get enough of you either.
You let out a soft gasp when his tongue gently brushed against your lips, and without hesitation, you parted them, allowing him in. His kiss was passionate, full of longing, and each movement made your heart beat faster. His hands roamed to your back, pulling you even closer, if that was even possible.
You could feel him smiling against your lips, and it made you grin, too. The way he kissed you so intensely, yet with such tenderness, was everything. Every touch, every movement felt like it meant something moreâlike you were both lost in the moment, just existing in each others arms.
Haechan finally pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours as both of you tried to catch your breath. His eyes were half-lidded, a playful glint in them as he spoke, his voice low and husky.
"Told you... You love me soooo much."
Haechan giggled before pressing another quick, soft kiss to your lips before resting his head back on your chest and his arms are back to being wrapped around your waist.
You giggled softly, a blush creeping on your ears, while wrapping your arms around him, feeling his warmth and gently stroking his hair. " You're lucky i love you."
"I'm too obsessed with you baby," He said with a chuckle, softly in your arms with a big smile as if hugging you was like heaven and murmurred a small "can't live without you."
And thatâs it for now! đ I hope you liked this little fluff! If you want more, follow me and let me know what you want to see next! Your support means so much to me!đž
