mari @antonbun - Tumblr Blog

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pairing: jung sungchan x f!reader

word count: 7.01k

content: MATURE CONTENT AHEAD!!!, angst, fluff, swearing, childhood best friends to lovers, mutual pining for dummies, scene heavy? kinda sorta?, w’s in the chat for the return of down bad sungchan, they are both very Passionate people, lots of kissing, they’re like feral animals bro they are sucking and fucking fr, dry humping, no foreplay cause they’re too desperate, unprotected sex, cowgirl ig, slight overstim, cream pie, sungchan being sungchan, they are so sickening in a cute way, (2) sungchan

synopsis: sungchan has been your rock through every major event in your life, as well as every heartbreak. when you have a sudden realization about your feelings towards him, your whole world spirals into chaos, but something has to give.

𑁍 note: guys i have been working on ts since march. she’s finally finished 🔥 someone tell me they’re proud of me before i crash out. JKKK i loved writing this pairing, they legiterally mean the world to me, please love them like i do 😭🙏 also like n reblog n all that good stuff if u do!! <3

𑁍 playlist: right here — justin bieber + drake, focus — H.E.R., always be my baby — mariah carey, soren — beabadoobee, love language — tomorrow x together, safety net + goodnight n go — ariana grande

𑁍 taglist: @rixieisfreaky @rain099

You never thought you would be in a position where things got intimate with your childhood best friend.

In fact, as long as you had known him, you told yourself he would only ever be a platonic figure in your life. There was too much history behind the two of you for anything more than that. He knew too many embarrassing facts about you. He had seen you at your worst, seen you at your best, and everything in between.

And yet somehow, it happened anyways.

Okay, rewind to a couple days ago.

You had been seeing this guy on and off for a while, a situationship of sorts. During the most recent "on" period, you thought things were going pretty well. He had started doing the bare minimum, you know, like opening doors for you and paying for your dinner. He held your hand in public and kissed you goodnight. It wasn't far fetched of you to assume that this meant he was finally ready to be serious about you. After all, that's usually what a guy does for a girl that he's into, right?

Oh, how wrong you were. So very wrong.

It turned out that he had actually been doing all of those things in order to let you down easily, permanently this time. And maybe you would've moved on quickly had he not made the dick move of hard launching his shiny, brand new girlfriend on his Instagram two days later. Needless to say things were finally "off". For good.

Never in your life did you want to willingly send the "Hey girlie, I'm coming to you as a woman…" text, at least, not until that moment. But you decided to be the bigger, mature person and leave it alone. Besides, you had more important matters to attend to— like wallowing in your own self pity.

Which is why you called your good ol' pal Sungchan.

"Hey loser," his honeyed voice rang through the phone like golden rays of sunshine, healing a part of you instantaneously. "Whatcha up to?"

You didn't even need to be physically present with him to picture that grin of his in your head, the one reserved for you. The image of the male in his usual relaxed attire, his phone lodged between his ear and his shoulder as he did little tasks here and there around his apartment made its way around your brain. One of his sleeves was probably rolled up, biceps flexing with every move he made. It was kind of alarming how well you knew him and his habits. Honestly, that alone should have been your warning sign.

Alas, you were still choked up about the whole situationship issue, judgment clouded and mind nowhere near a state of clarity.

"Are you busy?" You bit your bottom lip, attempting to stop the inevitable quivering. That sinking feeling in your chest was a little hard to ignore, though, seeping into your words when you ask the innocuous question. And if you knew Sungchan like the back of your hand, then he knew you like both sides of his own.

"What's wrong?" The shuffling on the other end of the line came to a halt. You could hear the worry and the concern, the switch in tone immediate. Even if you didn't live on the same street anymore, both wrapped up in your own college experiences, those years sharing a fence will always tie the two of you together. Sungchan noticed even the slightest change in your breathing. He was used to you running to him with tears in your eyes, your naive younger self constantly getting heartbroken over some stupid idiot boy.

Despite being over half a decade older, this moment isn't much different. If anything, it feels exactly like a scene from your teenage days— knocking on his door like a dog with its tail between its legs as you tell him of your pain. Suddenly you're fifteen and trying not to call yourself dumb for wearing your heart on your sleeve, for falling for yet another lie spewed from the mouth of one of your classmates with the intention of hurting you.

"That obvious?" You couldn't help laughing mirthlessly, wiping at your runny nose with the heel of your palm. Sungchan scoffed at the dismissal of your own emotions.

"Y/N," he starts, and you knew he was serious because he never used your full first name. "Tell me what happened."

"Fuck, okay," you stopped beating around the bush and sighed deeply. "You know that guy I was talking to? Well he ended things and posted his new girlfriend a couple days later."

There was some silence from Sungchan's end for a few seconds and then you heard the ruffling of his jacket. "I'm gonna kick his fuckin' ass."

"Chan—"

"He led you on, Y/N," you tried to ignore the breathiness in his voice when he says that, choosing instead to focus on stopping him from committing some sort of crime. "He had been seeing the other girl for a while if they made things serious like that, which means he was stringing you along and giving you false hope on purpose. I'm gonna find that asshole and—"

"No! Do not resort to violence. Please," your pleas, thankfully, did not fall onto deaf ears and he paused whatever he was doing. "I wasn't calling because I wanted you to beat someone up on my behalf. I was calling because I missed you and wanted to see you."

The absence of his voice somehow felt ten times louder in that moment as you waited for him to say something. It wasn't like you were just spouting nonsense to distract him. It was the god-honest truth. With how busy your lives had gotten, it was getting more and more difficult to see your best friend. Why wouldn't you miss him? Why wouldn't you want to see him during this difficult time?

After what felt like an eternity, but in reality was more like a few seconds or less, Sungchan sighed. You could envision him pinching the bridge of his nose as he does it, too. If someone blindfolded you and asked you to describe his movements based on sound alone, you probably could. With 100% accuracy.

"Alright, I'll come over," he replied, bringing a soft smile to your face. "But only on one condition."

"Which is?"

"You let me cook dinner for you."

And you know what, it's your own fault for agreeing. You're not unwelcome to stupid decisions. This situation was no different.

So when Sungchan shows up at your place with bags of groceries and a bottle of your favorite wine, something in your chest stirs. It's a familiar feeling that, for whatever reason, you can't seem to pinpoint. You try to ignore it as best you can, busying yourself with finding a movie to put on as he cooked.

You open the wine and pour each of you a glass, sighing when you take the first sip. After the emotionally draining week that you had, this felt like a reprieve. You were finally able to breathe without the fear of collapse. That ache that centered itself at the core of your being became bearable. The smell of meat grilling on your stove filled your senses with serenity.

What were you supposed to make of this?

It didn't matter if you'd gone minutes, days, or months without seeing the other— you just knew these kinds of things. Sungchan knew what to cook for you without needing to ask. He knew which brand of kimchi was your favorite and what your ideal samgyeopsal wrap looked like. It was as if there was a specially marked filing cabinet stored in a corner of his brain dedicated to you. Unsurprisingly, you're pretty sure you had one for him, too.

"Thank you for this," you express your gratitude, fondness twinkling in your eyes as you watched him put his heart into the meal he was cooking. "I promise our usual movie night with takeout, snacks, and beer would've sufficed. I already feel better being around you."

"I wanted to," he doesn't pause his actions, instead maintaining conversation as he continues. "Someone has to treat you nice for once. I figured it had to be me."

A laugh forces its way out of you, your default response to something you're not sure how to. "I can't tell if I'm supposed to see that as, like, a chivalrous gesture, or what?"

"What other way would you take it as?" Sungchan raises an eyebrow in confusion. You try to play off your emotions, shrugging and retrieving your phone to distract yourself from the impending sense of doom that has suddenly impeded your mind. Bile sits at the base of your throat, threatening to rise.

There's this feeling that you can't ignore gliding through your bloodstream. It's almost like a million pins and needles poking at you all at once, but slow and agonizing. And your brain is going haywire— wondering why am I feeling so fucking critical of myself through Sungchan's eyes. It was something that was there, and nagging, and so goddamn persistent. You couldn't shake this notion that there has to be a reason why.

"I don't know," you swallow, dry and weak. "It sounded a little targeted, I guess. I don't know, I'm just— I don't know."

The video on your screen has probably looped five times by now, completely forgotten about. Your eyes aren't focused on anything at all, except for the sound of sizzling and movie dialogue and how his breath feels so close but so far away and—

"Can I be honest about something?" He suddenly asks as he plates the pork belly. The sizzling comes to a halt. You look up from your "TikTok scroll" to find him already awaiting your response.

"Knock yourself out." You nod, sipping at your wine. A few different emotions flash across his features as he gathers the words he's searching for. He wipes his hands on a dish towel, tossing it haphazardly onto the counter in front of him.

"You have shit taste in guys," is what he settles on, tilting back his own glass and finishing the crimson liquid in a single gulp. The movie dialogue mutes. You guffaw in surprise, watching as he refills himself and tops you off.

"What?" The sound you let out is a mix of both a scoff and a laugh, confused by the sudden statement. He shrugs and then transfers some meat onto a separate plate, as well as a couple perilla leaves.

"Do you not relive the same situation over and over again?" The question is a rhetorical one, you know that much. "It's always you putting too much faith into a stupid dude who doesn't deserve the time of day to begin with, and then you get your heart broken. I'm starting to feel bad for you."

You don't like the way your throat constricts, or how a weight seems to drop on top of your shoulders. It was understandable that as a male friend, he had no obligations to listen to your boy troubles. However, Sungchan wasn't just any male friend. He was the one person in the world that you trusted more than yourself. Hearing him say that he took pity on you for giving others the benefit of the doubt felt like three knives straight to the back. How long had he thought you were an idiot?

Silence falls over the two of you as his words sit heavy in the air. You accept your plate of samgyeopsal and your bowl of rice, chugging half your glass of wine in one go. When you shift in your seat, chopsticks idly poking at the kimchi in the dish beside your food, Sungchan realizes how insensitive he came across.

"Okay, I didn't mean—"

"So you think I'm dumb and naive for giving everyone a chance? Or am I desperate? Since I seem to be doing it so often— constantly looking for someone, anyone to treat me better than the last. 'Cause it's my fault, right? My fault that I keep putting myself out there and falling for the same tricks and letting myself get heartbroken. It's my fault that I'm always either giving too much or not enough, and occasionally, both at the same time. How fucking pathetic am I, huh? Is that what you're saying?" You weren't expecting the outburst yourself, snapping your mouth shut immediately. Once the words started, they couldn't stop.

It was like a slap across the face when Sungchan said he felt sorry for you. All those years of crying to him because you felt so unlovable, so undeserving of love. All those years of laying on the floor of his bedroom, eyes puffy and droopy with exhaustion. All of those years unburdening yourself of this indescribable emptiness to him, because he made it seem like he cared to help. Had they all been wasted? On a false sense of safety and security? What other way did he expect you to take it as, if not a judgmental one?

"Y/N, that's not—"

"What the fuck am I supposed to think, Sungchan? I feel like such a dumbass, pouring my heart out to you for the better portion of my life just to have it thrown in my face. I put you at the forefront of my mind. My head treats you like a fucking god. But you just think of me as this damsel in distress, someone you feel like you have to take care of because you feel bad for her. Because someone has to, if not it'll never happen and she'll go on looking like a clown to everyone around her." Your chopsticks fall to your plate with a loud clatter. He visibly winces.

And then it hits you.

Like a freight train traveling at full speed, entirely and all at once.

The reason why you felt so nitpicky about yourself when he made a comment that usually had you agreeing, but instead had you feeling smaller than you were. You can't tell if your heart just stopped, or its beating is just that fast. All you know is it made a revelation long before the rest of you did, and you're so pissed that it didn't give you a warning.

Every time you took the time to recognize the bond between you and Sungchan, your heart took it as a hint. Every memory. Every moment. Him getting detention for you in high school, because he refused to let anyone hurt you. Buying you a matching necklace, so the two of you were still connected, no matter how far apart. Cooking dinner for you— a collection of your favorites that you told him about one time walking around campus late at night. Because of course he would remember that.

The pieces of a very stubborn puzzle reunite.

You inhale sharply, scattering them so you don't have to see the entire picture. If you pretend it's not there, if you can avoid the image in your mind, you can salvage what little bit of resolve you had left in you. You can preserve the peace. You can go forward and move on, but your head replays the night he came over after your last serious boyfriend broke up with you.

You'd been together about a year and a half after meeting at a party one of your friends had invited you to. It was easy to fall for his handsome face and charming personality, but it appeared that it was just as easy for everyone else, too. Any time you went out, there was a new girl fawning over him, wrapping her arms around his, feeling him up without shame. And you would just stand there, observing as he allowed it and fed into it. When you finally had the balls to bring it up, he went on a coke rant about how clingy and possessive you were. He claimed that you were just dramatic and toxic, so he broke up with you.

Just like every other time it happened, you called Sungchan crying. He could barely make out what you were saying because you were so hysterical, but he knew what he had to do. He didn't care that it was past midnight on a Wednesday, or that he worked early the next morning. He grabbed his jacket and keys and made his way over to you.

You bawled your eyes out as he held you on your bed, stroking your hair and your back comfortingly. Everything came out in a mess of heaving and snot, your face hot with tears and heartache, but he listened. His embrace felt like home, like a safe haven in the midst of inner turmoil. He kissed the crown of your head until you calmed down and could breathe properly. It wasn't until you were sleeping, and that crease between your eyebrows had smoothed out, that he left.

Staring at him now across the counter, it just clicks. Pretending is no longer an option. You're entirely too aware of it, and it's going to ruin everything.

"I didn't mean— it wasn't my intention to come across like that. I never wanted to make you feel like that, I swear, I— I'm so sorry," his voice cuts through the walls you'd surrounded yourself with. The movie dialogue fades back in. His breath is so close but so far, once more.

His eyes are soft, softer than you've ever seen them. They're even slightly glassy, likely from the guilt of making you feel so horrible. And suddenly you're seven years old, knees scraped from falling off of your scooter. Seven year old Sungchan holds your hand tightly as your mother cleans the wounds. Then you're thirteen, dancing to Mariah Carey's Always Be My Baby at your middle school dance. Thirteen year old Sungchan's hands are awkward in yours, but they feel just right. He asked you to go with him, because it would've "been more fun that way". And you're nineteen, drunk off your ass after a frat party. Nineteen year old Sungchan lays on his bed beside you, laughing at the nonsense coming out of your mouth.

Then you're in the present again.

There are no scraped knees. No low-budget disco lights in your school cafeteria. No shared laughter. Just your kitchen, Love, Rosie playing in the background, and a counter top that feels like an ocean separating the two of you.

Something snaps, and you lean over the surface, fisting the collar of his shirt. Your lips collide forcefully in a meeting of passion and years worth of pining buried deep beneath your subconscious. You tilt your head for better access, deepening the exchange with a swipe of your tongue. One of your hands reaches to tangle up in his neatly styled hair. He responds by mirroring your fervor.

You gasp into the kiss and his hands come up to cup your face. When you register his touch, you pull back immediately. The back of your hand covers your mouth. Your skin burns where he last was and your chest is rising and falling rapidly. He blinks at you, bewildered. Not that you blamed him, you just fucking kissed him and then retracted in the same speed.

"Y/N—"

"You have to go." Your tone is as steady as you can make it, but there's still that wobble around the edges. His brows furrow together more. You refuse to make eye contact, instead glaring at the untouched meals taking up the space between you. It makes your chest twist.

"I—"

"Please… Go…" You squeeze your eyes shut, hands coming up to cover your face.

The silence is deafening after he's gathered himself and left, the door echoing when it shuts behind him. Your tears start flowing before you even realize it, palms wet and smeared with mascara. You could only shove and shove and shove it all down for so long until something had to give.

What do you do now?

The sound of rain pelts against your window in an angry chorus, serving as filler noise to your seventh doom scroll of the night. The faint smell of carbonara Buldak ramen hangs in the air, your dirty bowl discarded in the sink and the pot still resting on the stove. A Twenty Five Twenty One binge session is put on pause, the 'Are You Still Watching' card sitting on the TV screen.

You're avoiding Sungchan.

All of his texts. All of his phone calls. Everything. You don't have the courage to face him after what transpired the other night. A humiliation ritual was the best way you could describe it— your emotional outbursts, kissing him, all of it. You wish you could blame it on the heightened emotions from your failed situationship, but you know that would only get you so far.

When you think back on every shared memory with him, it all makes sense. The reason you'd get upset when he reacted a certain way in a certain situation. Why it bothered you so much whenever he brought girls around. Why you hung onto his every word like they held the answers to the universe.

And as if he has a sixth sense for you;

[10:08 p.m.] chan 🥸 can u pls just answer me?? [10:08 p.m.] chan 🥸 we need to talk about this y/n and u can't ignore me forever [10:09 p.m.] chan 🥸 i miss u

You blink away that familiar tingle in your eyes. Your entire body was suffering. It's not that you didn't miss him either, god you were going crazy from how much you missed him. It was just too fresh for you. The realization that you've been in love with your childhood best friend for who knows how long was a difficult pill to swallow. Time was about to become your new best friend.

However, your current one is not letting that happen.

[10:09 p.m.] chan 🥸 ykw fuck it i'm coming over

The pace at which you sit up on your couch has your head spinning and spots decorating your vision. If Sungchan showed up at your door, you don't know what you'd say to him. You weren't ready to reap the consequences of your own actions. The clock on your phone transitions from 10:09 P.M. to 10:27 P.M. faster than you anticipated.

You jump when you hear frantic knocking, your heart dropping to the pit of your stomach. Part of you hoped he was just bluffing as a way to get your attention. Really, you should've known better than to underestimate Jung Sungchan, the master of impulsive decisions.

With a frog in your throat and a gap in your chest, you answer the door. The rain is louder now, pouring behind him violently. His hair and clothes are nearly soaked, water dripping along the bridge of his nose onto the ground. You gasp when you think about how dangerous the trip here must've been for him.

"Sungchan—"

"No, you listen to me," he interrupts, taking a deep breath and running a hand through his wet hair. "You didn't let me talk once last time, you just yelled at me and then kissed me and then kicked me out without letting me say anything. So I'm saying it all right now."

He takes your warm, clammy hands into his cold ones, looking into your eyes like they held the secrets to the universe. Somehow everything melts away and your chest feels lighter. He always had this effect on you, bringing you back down to earth when it seemed impossible. He just knew what you needed in the moment, like it was a special talent of his that was only unlocked around you.

"Do you know how much it fucking pained me to hear how I made you feel?" The brown of his irises softens, a shade that reminds you of hot chocolate. "I felt like such an asshole for putting those thoughts into your head, even if it was unintentionally. I promise you, Y/N, I have never seen you as weak or naive. My wording might've sounded stupid, but I never do the things I do for you because I feel like I have to. I do them because I genuinely want to. You're one of the strongest women I know and you're more than capable of handling your own, I just— you don't understand how it physically hurts me to see you getting your heart broken. And I always hope that doing these things for you, these kind gestures like cooking your favorite food when a guy love bombs you or showing up in the middle of the night when your boyfriend breaks up with you, will make you realize that I can treat you so much better, that I've been here all along."

Your heart does a funny flip behind your ribs, stuttering when his words reach your ears. You had never considered him reciprocating your feelings, too hung up on the idea that romantic emotions would screw everything up. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, unsure how to respond without sounding insane.

"When I said 'someone has to treat you nice for once', I wanted you to see that I want to be that someone. You're always at the forefront of mymind. Day in and day out, all I think about is you. I wonder if you've eaten, if you're in class taking notes in that particular way that you do, if you're hanging out with your friends, if you're thinking of me, too." He doesn't care that he's drenched, doesn't care that he's probably freezing his ass off right now. The most important thing to him was you, so what was the point of anything else?

The tears streaming down your cheeks likely resemble the storm outside, falling freely and relentlessly. Sungchan was just that person, to you and to everyone around him. He never did anything half-assed and you're not surprised that the way he loved someone was no different. The way he loved you.

"Am I dreaming?" Your voice isn't louder than a whisper, but he hears you over all the noise. "Pinch me if I am."

He cracks a smile, squeezing your hands gently. "You're not dreaming."

"I'm sorry for giving you emotional whiplash the other night…" You apologize sheepishly. "I was just scared of everything I was feeling. It hit me too hard and too fast and it was a lot to process at once so I freaked out. I think I've felt like this about you for a lot longer than I've let myself be aware of. I didn't want to ruin our friendship, because you're the only person in the world who knows me, Sungchan. The only person in the world who truly knows me— every tiny detail and those that I broadcast to everybody else. But now I'm afraid that I already have."

"It's a change, for sure, but it's not ruined," he shakes his head, eyebrows knitted together. "Our bond is too strong to be severed that easily, N/N. As long as we're both willing to put in the effort, I want to give this— us— a try."

You're seventeen again, and it's prom night. Seventeen year old Sungchan is standing at the bottom of your stairs with both of your parents. You descend carefully as to not trip over your dress or your heels. When your eyes meet, time seems to stop for a minute. For just a single minute, nothing else exists except for you and Sungchan. He thinks to himself that you're the most beautiful girl he's ever had the privilege of knowing. You think he's the most handsome man, and for tonight, he's all yours.

At the age of seventeen, you didn't understand what it meant to feel like that. Now you do. And the present day Jung Sungchan is standing before you, asking to be yours for more than just one night.

You'd be an idiot to decline.

"I want to give us a try, too," your lips curl upwards, pulling him closer to you. "I know that it's all gonna be different from here on out, but as long as I have you by my side, I'm okay with that. You and me, together forever, right?"

The promise the two of you made to each other when you were eight resurfaces in a new light. He smiles at the memory, nodding. "So can I kiss you now?"

"If you didn't, I'd be pissed."

Sungchan laughs, but doesn't waste a second, connecting your lips in a kiss that proves everything he just said. His face is cold from the rain, water dripping from his hair to your cheeks. It's a contrast to the impulsive decision of the other night, but all of the same emotions still translate.

You pull him inside of your apartment by the damp collar of his jacket and he shuts the door behind him. He shrugs it off of his shoulders, urging you in the direction of your bedroom. Genuinely, you couldn't believe this was actually happening. Hell, even a week ago you wouldn't have seen yourself in this situation.

Your knees hit the edge of your bed and you fall backwards, Sungchan toppling over you. His lips don't leave yours once, almost as if he was trying to commit the taste and feel of them to memory for safe keeping. When you gasp for air, he takes the opportunity to kiss along your neck and jawline, tenderly suckling at your plush skin.

"You're gonna get sick," you point out weakly, eyes threatening to flutter shut when he finds that sweet spot behind your ear.

"Don't give a fuck," he mumbles between pecks, nipping at the base of your throat. "I need you too bad. We can take a hot shower or something after."

Goosebumps litter your skin at the implications of a shower with him. They follow his fingers as they slip beneath your t-shirt and up your sides. His hands can't seem to keep themselves off of you, roaming your body like he was trying to learn you.

Sungchan flips you so he's sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling you onto his lap. He grips your hips tightly, grinding you down on him through the material of his sweatpants. You moan into his mouth and he takes the liberty to get things steaming up, nipping at your lower lip. A gasp spills out of you, rolling your hips into his in chase of some friction.

The bulge of his cock through his sweats is enough to drive you absolutely crazy. It's just the right thickness to where you could feel it ever so subtly, catching it at the top of the gusset of your panties with every gyration of your lower half. Sungchan's hands travel further down, sneaking under your oversized shirt to grab handfuls of your ass.

"Holy fuck," you pant the words atop his parted lips. "You feel so fucking good, Channie."

"No, baby, you don't understand," his grip grows stronger. "I can feel your pussy trying to suck me in. You have no idea how hot that is."

You laugh, because you know it's true— you've been experiencing nothing but mediocrity for years and now you're finally receiving what you deserved. And you get to experience this pleasure with Sungchan, which makes the situation so much more emotional and exciting. "It's not too desperate?"

Sungchan stills you for a moment, cupping your face with his hands tenderly. "N/N, my beautiful girl, I would never think of you that way. I'm so fucking lucky that I can make you feel like that. Truly, every guy in the world should be so fucking jealous of me and who I get to call mine now. And everyone who's ever hurt you is an idiot for losing the most gorgeous, intelligent, and stunning woman in the world."

You kiss him like your life depends on it, arms wrapped around his neck as you slip under a Jung Sungchan-induced spell. It's a genuine wonder why you ever thought falling in love with him would only result in disaster. He makes you feel safe, and loved, and prioritized. He always has, now realizing that he's been doing this for years and you subconsciously forced yourself to push it all away.

And here you are, embracing him and kissing him with every ounce of passion in your body. It shouldn't be a surprise that he reciprocates.

"So what do you wanna do?" He swipes his thumb across your cheek.

"I don't wanna waste another second," you run your fingers through his hair. "I need you inside of me as of, like, yesterday."

Sungchan groans, eyes squeezing shut. "I think you might be the death of me, seriously."

Another laugh leaves your lips, smacking his chest lightly. Even in this intense, emotionally charged moment, he finds a way to recenter your gravity and remind you that he's still the same Sungchan you've known your whole life. You're incredibly grateful to have someone like him by your side.

He kisses you again, this time softer than the others. His nose brushes your own, lips slotting with yours perfectly. It's hard to pull away, especially because you could feel all of his emotions in this kiss. However, you need him so bad that the growing knot in your stomach tightens with every movement either of you makes.

Finally, after what felt like years, Sungchan pulls his wet t-shirt over his head and throws it to the floor. Your nails drag down his abdomen, fingers fumbling with the drawstring of his sweatpants. He lifts his hips off the bed slightly to help you push them off, kicking them somewhere in the same direction as his shirt.

The two of you struggle to take off your own shirt, giggling in the process because the collar gets stuck at the crown of your head. Sungchan wastes no time in attaching his mouth to your bare chest. His lips wrap around a perked nipple, suckling your breast.

You throw your head back, moaning aloud and circle your hips on his lap once again. Now, with even less clothing between you, you can feel a lot more of him. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to tell that he's throbbing underneath his briefs. A whine escapes you pathetically as you push him off weakly.

"I need you so bad," you squirm, fingers tugging at his hair. "I want you so bad."

"Okay, baby, okay, I've got you." He coos, kissing your lips sweetly.

Sungchan dips his finger beneath the waistband of your panties, dragging them down your legs and tossing them into the pile of your other clothes. His briefs join the party soon after, leaving you both completely nude to each other. He takes a second to admire your beauty.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful." He whispers, more to himself than anything.

You hover over his cock, now stiff and erect for you. Both of you can feel the warmth radiating from each other and it makes the moment ten times more intense. When you meet eyes, any semblance of nerves disappear entirely and your body melts into his hold.

It's easy to sink down onto him, lips parting in a silent cry as he stretches you open. The minute he's fully bottomed out, he buries his face in the crook of your neck and shoulder. You let the ache of his settle before moving, slightly rocking your hips to test the waters. He hisses into your collarbone, fingers tightening their grip on your waist.

"I—" you cut yourself off with a whimper when he thrusts upwards experimentally. "—feel so full, Channie."

Sungchan notes your reaction, hips snapping up at a faster pace in response. "Yeah? Filling your pussy up like it deserves, right?"

Your voice fails you, instead giving him another downright dirty moan. In your wet dreams, the sex you have is outrageous and truthfully, a little fucking ridiculous. Maybe it was the bad string of terrible partners who couldn't even provide the basics. That would definitely explain why you thought insane positions would solve all of your problems.

Now, however, riding Jung Sungchan, your childhood best friend, on the edge of your bed negates all of that. You quickly realize that it's not the actions themselves, but rather the skills of the person performing them. And also maybe the person himself. (But you're still a little freaked out to admit that.)

"You didn't answer me, gorgeous," his hand sneaks its way between your legs, deft fingers massaging your clit. "Who's fucking you like this? Who's giving it to you this good?"

That question alone is nearly enough to spur an orgasm. Sungchan has always been a confident man. Not cocky, but self-assured in an attractive sort of way. He's always commanded the attention of any room he walks into. He was also the type to go after something once he knows he wants it, and usually he never returns empty handed. The fact that he's aware of his status in your sex life from just your first time together turns you on immensely.

"You, Sungchan," you don't even sound like yourself, reduced to putty in his hands. "Shit, I think I'm about to cum."

"So fast, baby?"

Your attempts at biting your tongue are futile, obscene sounds leaving your mouth each time your hips met. Really, it shouldn't be a surprise to anyone that you're falling apart at record speed. You've been missing out on the real deal. Now you get to experience actual good sex with an emotional connection.

Though words of the filth origin were tumbling out of him, his voice was really good at grounding you. You feel everything so much more, focused on the thickness pounding into you and caressing your inviting walls. Focused on the way his teeth graze your sternum and how his lips sooth the area consequently.

"Ready to let go for me?" He travels up to your ear, his hypnotic voice triggering all of the alarms in your body.

Suddenly, that knot in your core unravels and your climax collides into you. You feel the air punched out of you, your fingers and toes curling. Even so, even with your body tingling and your head spinning, Sungchan continues to drill up into your spasming, eager pussy. He knocks against that sweet, spongy spot that has stars decorating your vision. In turn, your orgasm prolongs and brings him right there alongside you.

Without warning, he spills and pulses inside of you. A shiver glides down your spine, half tempted to go at it again. Unfortunately, you're fucking exhausted. Too much emotional energy and too much physical energy was exerted today.

It takes a bit to gather your bearings, both of you coming to around the same time. Sungchan's eyes widen almost immediately, a clear expression of worry on his features.

"Bro, I fucking came inside of you." He states, horror in his eyes.

"Sungchan, I—"

"Holy shit, you're gonna get pregnant and I'm gonna have to prove I'm the best boyfriend in the world and the best dad in the world at the same time. I gotta lock in." He pinches the bridge of his nose. He seems genuinely stressed over this and you can't help but laugh.

"I'm on birth control, you idiot. And don't talk about my vagina and call me bro in the same fucking sentence ever again. Actually, while we're at it, don't call me bro when your dick is literally in me either." You roll your eyes, kissing his cheek to show that you're partially joking.

"Woah, our relationship really is gonna change, huh?" Sungchan blows a raspberry, squeezing your thigh. "I still get to call you annoying nicknames and also see you naked."

"You fucking scared me, you bitch," you flick his forehead gently. "Thought you were starting to regret this whole thing."

"Baby, I could never," he frowns, tucking some hair behind your ear. "I just didn't even think I would ever get this far. I was under the impression that I never had a chance with you. You're like way outta my league, you know. Also, you call me a bitch on the regular… so…"

"Jung Sungchan saying I'm out of his league? The same Jung Sungchan who was voted 'Most Likely to Succeed' in high school? The same Jung Sungchan who was unanimously voted class president?" You raise an eyebrow in disbelief. He was definitely the more sought out one between the two of you.

"No. The same Jung Sungchan who promised the world to you when he was fucking eight years old and has spent the last few years afraid that he wouldn't get to fulfill that promise." He says with an air of finality. He ensures that he's looking directly into your eyes so you know he's being honest. Pure, unadulterated honesty; raw with real emotion and vulnerability.

"I love you, Sungchan," you hold his face in your hands. "You are everything to me and I'm so incredibly lucky that I'm yours."

"I love you, too," he smiles, kissing you softly. "And I will stay in love with you forever and ever until the day I die."

It comforts you to know he isn't just telling you something that you want to hear. He isn't lying for the sake of uplifting himself. He isn't throwing everything on you fast and hard just to take it all back a couple days later. Sungchan is so genuine in that way. He's telling you this because it is his absolute truth. With all of the strength in his heart, he hopes to give you everything you want and more.

"So… I remember us discussing a shower— Ow!"

"Dude! Time and place!"

Yup. Still your Sungchan.

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