|warnings: porn with plot! Smut! Mdni! Unprotected sex, oral sex, mentions of drinking, jealous!won, rough sex, kind of switch Jungwon but not really, overstimulation, munch!won|
|synopsis: in which you ask your roommate to be your fake boyfriend to get some coworkers off your back, only for him to get real jealous when a certain coworker won’t leave you alone.|
|word count: 12k|
Asking your roommate to pretend to be your boyfriend for a work holiday party definitely wasn’t the most awkward conversation on record for you, but it was up there. If there was a ranking it would easily make the top ten with the way Jungwon’s eyes bulge out of his head at your proposal. Proposal was generous, really you were begging him to agree after boasting about your nonexistent loving boyfriend in front of nosy coworkers.
Truthfully it wasn’t meant to go this far, subtly mentioning you had a boyfriend was your way of getting one of your coworkers, Jay, to tone down the flirting. Jay was a nice guy, incredibly attractive, and a gentleman above all else. He had shown an interest in you for quite some time but you could never see him that way. You tried to dismiss him without being rude but he never did quite get the hint. Until today, that is, when the words, “I have a boyfriend” slipped past your lips without considering the repercussions for a statement such as that.
By lunch your entire department knew of this boyfriend and you were being questioned to no end. Your coworkers didn’t mean any harm, not really, your office building could get so boring and mundane on a Tuesday afternoon, what else is there to do but gossip? You managed to avoid certain questions until they practically begged you to bring him to the annual holiday party.
The entire drive home you considered every possible way out of this, you considered not going to the party altogether, feigning sickness or telling them your boyfriend was to spend the holidays with his family back home. Whilst believable, you knew the nosy older ladies in your office would only ask for pictures and more details afterward.
It wasn’t until you got home, finding Jungwon sitting on the couch already in his pjs watching some old action movie, the kind that had cartoon-like sound effects and funny studio lighting, that the idea popped into your head. Anything after that was pure word vomit of this master plan that could possibly end up messier than it was worth.
“Please, Jungwon, you’re my only hope! My only other close guy friends are Jake and Sunghoon. Jake works in the same office as me, everyone in our office has seen us together and no one is going to believe we’re dating. It’ll just be messier in the long run! And Sunghoon has a girlfriend!” You clasped your hands to your chest, pouting slightly to express the distress in your tone.
“Why can’t you just tell them your boyfriend can’t make it?” He shook his head, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees as if in deep thought.
“They’ll only ask for pictures after, if I bring someone to the party with me that’ll be proof enough. They can meet you, ask whatever they want to ask. We just have to lie for one night and it will all die down after that. Please?”
Jungwon looked up at you, his eyes studied your own and you can sense the hesitation in them. The two of you were not only roommates, you’ve been very close friends for years. Your best friend from college, Sunoo, introduced you once you were looking to move into the city. You were searching for a place to stay and Sunoo knew his friend, Jungwon, was looking for a roommate. Everything worked out pretty well after that, you moved in and now here you were nearly three years later.
“I don’t know y/n this could get complicated.” His eyebrows knitted together in that unfairly attractive way they always did when he was deep in thought. A characteristic you had hidden in that little folder in the back of your mind along with other things about Jungwon that you pretend not to notice.
“Come on, you have literally nothing to lose. You will never have to see these people again, if anyone has to deal with the consequences it’s me at work.”
Jungwon looked over you again, noting the way your lips pushed outwards in an annoyingly adorable pout, he wished he could say no to you.
“Fine, just one dumb holiday party.”
The night of the party came by a lot faster than you were prepared for. With you being swamped at work and Jungwon constantly in and out of the studio, the two of you barely had any time to work out how you would go about this.
It seemed simple enough but you knew you had to at least come up with one solid storyline for this to be believable. Which is how you found yourself sitting in the passenger seat of Jungwon's car as he drove to the party, fingers tugging at the hem of your festive patterned sweater, asking the most ridiculous questions for the sake of preparing yourself for tonight.
“I don’t think they’re gonna ask us which side of the bed we sleep on, y/n.” He chuckled, gripping the steering wheel with his right hand as his left forearm rests on the door.
“You don’t know that! You are seriously underestimating how nosy some of my coworkers can be.”
Jungwon shook his head, not bothering to hide the amused grin playing at his lips. “Okay, let’s just keep it simple, hmm? We met through a mutual friend, started off as roommates then friends and about let’s say…four months ago we started dating. If they ask why you haven’t mentioned me before, just say you didn’t want to say anything until you were sure we were serious. We’re already best friends so we know a lot about each other, just stick as close to the truth as possible. Oh and I sleep on the right side of the bed, the one closest to the door. Always.”
You couldn’t help but stare at him in awe, he seemed so calm about this as if it was normal to pretend to be in a relationship with your best friend. Maybe you were over complicating things, surely this wouldn’t be too different from your normal life, you and Jungwon were already very close, talking about him and acting comfortable around him is second nature to you.
“Okay, lets keep the pda to a minimum though, I’ll stand by your side, maybe you can place your hand on my back or hold my hand occasionally, we shouldn’t over do it.” You added, nodding to yourself.
Jungwon raised an eyebrow in your direction, turning to face you momentarily before looking back onto the road. Without hesitation he switches the hand on the wheel, his left hand taking over and his now free right hand travels down to hold your own two hands that were still pulling at loose threads of your sweater. The sudden contact made you flinch, your eyes darting up to his in search of an explanation.
The corner of his lips lift upward into another amused smirk, “No one is going to believe we’re boyfriend and girlfriend if you flinch every time I touch you.” He says matter-of-factly.
“I won't, I just wasn’t expecting it.” You try to defend yourself. He squeezes your hand once.
“That’s the point, baby.” He replies, the grin on his lips never faltering.
“Baby?” Your eyes widen again in shock although your mind is still very much aware of his hand still on yours.
“Sorry, do you prefer princess? Maybe sweetheart? My love?” Jungwon laughs this time, slightly throwing his head back as he enters the parking garage for your building.
“Very funny.” You shove his hand off of you, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Come on, we’ve got a long night to get through.” He pats your knee once as he parks into a spot. He’s quick to get out of the car, walking over to your side to open your door and extend a hand out for you to take.
“You ready, darling?” He winks as he throws another pet name at you just as you grab his hand. “Be good, Jungwon.”
“That’s Wonie to you.” He smiles again, turning to walk beside you with his hand placed comfortably on the small of your back as you walk into the building together.
The two of you make your way into the building, heading for the large conference room that was turned into a makeshift party room for the night. The team at HR helped decorate the room to make it feel as lively and inviting as four white walls and a bland carpeted floor could muster.
All eyes were on you the second you walked in. Well, really, they were on the man standing behind you. Jungwon was the kind of man to demand attention in any room he entered, regardless of who his real or pretend girlfriend was at the time.
You lasted all but fifteen seconds before the group of ladies standing around the refreshments table circled around you. “There you are! y/n, this must be your boyfriend, introduce us!”
Jungwon only smiles as you introduce him to the older women, his hand finds its way around your waist in an almost possessive manner.
“It’s so nice to meet you, I’ve heard so much about all of you.” Which is true, after countless nights coming home from work just to rant over a glass of wine with a very tired Jungwon, he didn’t have to lie regarding that.
“We haven’t heard nearly enough about you! Tell us, how long have you been together?” Then came the flood of questions and comments,
“Do you two live together?”
“Who asked who out first?”
“You’re such an attractive couple!”
“The flowers you sent her last week were beautiful!”
Jungwon's eyebrows perk up at the last comment, sparing a glance down to you in question. You had forgotten all about that, those flowers were one of the main reasons you found yourself in this mess. The beautiful array of roses had been an early Christmas gift from Jay, as printed on the small card placed neatly against the bouquet. No one had seen who they were from so you threw out the card, left your office to reject his affections once again in the nicest way possible just as you had several times before. Only this time you found yourself saying you had a boyfriend.
Jay was more than surprised, you had never even shown signs of having a partner before that day. You kept the flowers at your desk, not really knowing what to do with them and somehow that led to the entire office assuming you had a boyfriend as well.
One of the ladies from the front desk smiled, “Yes, those roses were gorgeous, I saw when they got delivered. They got to her office before she did in the morning.”
Jungwon grinned but slowly shook his head, “I’m sure they were but I’m afraid I can’t take credit for those. I wasn’t the one to send her those flowers, if I was I would’ve known to send her hydrangeas, those are her favorite.” He squeezes at your waist, pulling you closer as a sign of affection in front of the others.
The ladies swooned momentarily, as did you before you caught yourself. Your eyes widened, right hand coming up to rest against his chest as you smiled up at him adoringly. You had mentioned it in passing surely, living together for almost three years there’s a lot he probably knows about you that you don’t realize and vice versa. Still, the casual mention of your favorite flower along with his nearly imperceptible possessive tone is enough to make your breath hitch.
“Well, if that wasn't you then who was it?”
You shrug, “Not sure, they were beautiful though. But Jungwon’s right, he’s always gotten me hydrangeas, I instantly knew they weren’t from him.” The lie spills past your lips all too easily just as you notice Jay walking up to you, a drink in one hand as his other rests in his pocket.
“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced, I’m Jay.” He holds his hand out before Jungwon, plastering an award winning grin on his face. You had given Jungwon the run down on Jay and his flirtations so he was more than prepared for this interaction.
“Nice to meet you man, I’m Jungwon.” He shakes his hand, matching his smile without ever letting go of your waist. Some of the ladies had dispersed now, making small talk conversation around you whilst still being within earshot.
“Hey, I hope you don’t mind me keeping your girl late some nights, that Taiwan proposal was very demanding, I wouldn’t have been able to do it without her.” Jay’s expression is charming but his tone is striking, you hadn’t expected him to play it like this. Jay had always been a gentleman toward you, sure a bit insistent with this flirting but he had never crossed a line as broadly as this before.
Jungwon doesn’t seem phased, almost like he was expecting this from the start, his grin only widens.
“Don’t worry about it, my girl is the best at what she does. I don't blame you for asking for her help.” He smirks at him, you can feel the way Jungwon’s fingers flex against your hip. “And besides, it worked out perfect on nights I’d get back late from the studio. Usually I get home way later than her so on those rare chances we get home at the same time, we definitely take advantage to spend more time together before bed. I should be thanking you, really.” The innuendo isn’t missed on either of you, the smirk on Jungwon’s face says it all.
You have to hold back a laugh as Jay’s jaw clenches, his grip on his glass tightens. In contrast, Jungwon looks the picture of calm. “You want a drink, baby?” He turns to look at you but your eyes are already on him. He waits for you to nod before turning back to Jay, “If you’ll excuse us.”
The two of you manage to find a table after grabbing some wine, taking a seat next to each other. You cross your legs, turning to face Jungwon just as his hand casually comes to rest over your legs, holding you in place. This proximity and casual touching was becoming more and more normal as time went on.
“That was perfect.” You whispered to him with a smile. You turned, expecting him to be smiling with you but instead his jaw was set, eyes focused on one corner of the room. You follow his eyes, finding Jay conversing with another associate from a different department.
“What’s wrong?”
“That’s the asshole that won’t leave you alone?” His voice is quiet but stern.
“He’s not all bad, really. He’s usually more composed than that, I really don’t know where that came from.” It’s true, Jay's sudden change of character upon seeing you with Jungwon was unexpected. He had always been so kind and proper you wouldn’t have guessed he’d be the type of guy to subtly challenge someone's boyfriend.
“Looks pretty bad from where I’m sitting. He ever make you feel uncomfortable?” His eyes turn to you then, all serious and protective you almost let yourself fall into the immersive role of him being the jealous boyfriend.
You shake your head, “Nothing like that, he gets flirty but it’s never inappropriate. I’ve tried shutting him down before but it’s my fault for not being as stern as I should’ve been. That’s why I told him I had a boyfriend, I thought he would surely back off then.”
“Any respectable guy can tell when a woman isn’t into him, if he was as kind as you say he would’ve taken the first hint and it wouldn’t have had to go this far. Now he’s threatening me, knowing I’m your boyfriend.” He takes a sip of his wine then, his sharp jawline poking out as he swallows down the scarlet liquid.
Boyfriend. Not fake boyfriend, just boyfriend. He said it so definitively, you couldn’t bring yourself to correct him.
“He crossed a line, let’s just hope he gets the hint now, yeah?” Jungwon nods in agreement, hand squeezing your knee softly in reassurance.
The night seems to go by pretty quickly after that, you converse with some coworkers, Jungwon constantly at your side while you do, occasionally jumping into the conversation whenever prompted to.
It was about an hour before midnight, most people had gone home by then, you and Jungwon found yourselves talking to Jake about some mutual friends you have when Jungwon received a phone call.
“One second, baby, it’s Heeseung from the studio. I'll be right back.” He informs, pressing a fleeting kiss to the side of your head before walking out into the hallway. You almost freeze at the contact, despite him having his arm around you all night, the kiss was unexpected. You recovered quickly though as Jake continued the conversation as though everything was normal, though you guess for him it was.
The silence of the hallway provided Jungwon a moment to speak with Heeseung, he called about an upcoming meeting and new deadlines for a client. A new artist they’re working with requested a change in their sound, this would set back their work by at least a week. Jungwon ran a hand through his hair, groaning at the news. “Yeah, yeah, that’s fine I’ll stay late tomorrow if I have to. We’ll scrap what we got. Cool, thanks.”
The call ends and just as Jungwon is about to turn back into the conference room he finds Jay leaning against the wall with a glass of some dark liquor in his hand.
“Hey man, look I don’t like getting involved in stuff but I just wanted to let you know man to man,” Jungwon raised an eyebrow in question at the man, who clearly looked like he had one drink too many, “Your girl has been flirting with me for a while, I mean she’s clearly into me. She only told me she had a boyfriend a couple days ago. Just looking out man, who knows what would’ve happened between us if she had never mentioned you.” The smirk on the man's face tells Jungwon exactly what he thinks would have happened.
An ugly, angry, feeling stems deep in Jungwon’s chest, he feels his jaw clench. If only Jay knew how you would have never allowed that, how he would never allow that.
“Is that so? Because what I heard is that you have continued to bother my girlfriend despite her telling you over and over again that she’s not interested. She didn’t tell you about me because it’s none of your business, she only chose to tell you hoping you’d finally get the hint but it seems you still don’t get it, huh?” Jungwon stares him down, eyeing the drink in his hand and how Jay clutches the glass.
“If you’ll excuse me I have to get back to my girlfriend, I would appreciate it if you left her alone from now on but hey, thanks for looking out.” Jungwon walks past him with a grin, patting his shoulder as he does.
Back inside the room, he returns to your side instantly, jumping right back into the conversation between you and Jake like he never left.
Another half hour or so passes before you squeeze Jungwon's arm, deciding to call it a night. “We should go, Jungwon’s got work tomorrow and I’m getting pretty tired, right, love?” You look up at him with pleading eyes and Jungwon only smiles warmly in return, nodding.
“Yeah we should head home. Jake, man, it was really great to meet you, I’ve heard great things, we should meet again.” He goes to shake his hand which your coworker happily takes, “Likewise, we should all get drinks one night, I’ll introduce you to my friend Riki. I think you two would really get along.” Jungwon nods happily and you bid your goodbyes to the rest of them.
Jungwon doesn’t let go of you the entire walk to his car, opening the door for you and only letting go once you sit down.
“I don’t like that Jay guy, you’ll let me know if he bothers you again, yeah?” He says after a few moments of silence on the drive home.
“I don’t think he will but yes I promise I will let you know if he does. Is everything okay, did he say something else to you?” You study him, the way he grips the steering wheel with both hands he clearly looks bothered by something.
He hesitates, you can pinpoint the exact moment his body slightly tense and his jaw clenches. “It’s not important, I think he finally got the hint but if he says anything or makes you feel uncomfortable just let me know.” You nod along, knowing better than to argue with Jungwon when he gets like this.
When his voice drops an octave or two and his eyebrows strain together in a focused gaze, he was so stern like this and it’s very rare he used that tone on you so you weren’t about to push your luck.
“I’ll tell you, I promise.” You reach over the center console to softly squeeze his arm in assurance. Jungwon tenses under your touch, feeling the ugly feeling from earlier return deep in the pit of his stomach. He wasn’t sure what to call it yet and he was still trying to decide whether he liked it or not.
The following weeks after the holiday party were shadowed by a tense cloud that seemed to hover over your shared apartment with Jungwon. He’s been working day in and day out thanks to changes with their client and the label. You barely saw him at all, sometimes you’d cook dinner and leave him a sticky note on the fridge, if you were lucky you’d wake up to a missing tupperware and a response on the same note stating, “thank you.”
You weren’t much better off either, you were tasked to work on another proposal with Jay for an international deal that was currently putting you through the ringer. If the stress of the workload wasn’t enough, working with Jay now was no walk in the park. He was less flirty than before but even now you continue to catch him staring at you with dark eyes. It’s a bit unsettling, the other day you hadn’t realized your skirt had ridden up slightly until you felt the burn on his gaze onto your skin.
He also continues to ask about your reservation for the company gala coming up, surely wanting to know if Jungwon will be there. Each time he asks, you avoid the question, you haven’t mentioned the gala to Jungwon and you don’t intend to. He’s been so busy with work there’s no way you would bother him with your nonsense right now, you were sure to survive one night without him.
With the gala just over a week away work was piling and deadlines were nearing. Thankfully you had somehow managed to leave the office at a reasonable time today, slipping into the elevator before Jay could keep you later under the guise of unnecessary modifications for your proposal. It was only 6:30pm by the time you got home, the earliest you’ve returned all week.
You hadn’t expected to find Jungwon in the kitchen, serving himself some pizza he happened to buy from your favorite place.
“Whoa, hey, you’re back early. Good you can eat while it’s still hot.” He greets you with a smile, despite barely seeing each other since the party there was no awkward tension between you. Things may have gotten quiet around you but never awkward, Jungwon wouldn’t let that happen.
The smell of the fresh pizza was enough to have you drooling before you finished taking off your shoes. Jungwon was already serving you a plate along with a soda. He set your plates down on the dining table, waiting for you before taking a bite of his slice.
“How was work?” He breaks the silence first. “Exhausting, I’m all over the place recently.” You sigh, biting into the pizza.
“Is that why you forgot to mention the gala your company is hosting?” He raises an eyebrow at you, smirking slightly due to the look of surprise on your face.
“How did you know about that?”
“I bumped into Jake yesterday, he mentioned the gala and said you’ve been so busy with your project that you haven’t submitted your rsvp so he just marked you down for a plus one, he said he expected to see me there.” The look on his face tells you he’s not at all bothered by this information but still you find yourself wanting to apologize.
“Jungwon, I am so sorry I dragged you into this, I’ll come up with some excuse, I’ll say you got sick or had to go into work.” You’re already shaking your head, coming up with a dozen different believable excuses so Jungwon won’t have to be involved again. You had promised this ruse would only be for one night, that was all he agreed to.
But Jungwon was already shaking his head before you could finish your sentence, “Why would you do that? Your boyfriend should attend this gala, I hear you might get an award.”
Boyfriend, once again missing the ‘fake’ in front of it. And once again you don’t find yourself correcting him.
“Jake really told you everything, huh?” You scoffed to which Jungwon only nodded, “Yup, wish it would’ve come from you though. Were you not planning on inviting me?”
“Jungwon, our agreement was that you pretended to be my boyfriend for the holiday party, remember? I don’t think we need to continue, they know you exist, they saw you once, that’s enough.”
The brunette across from you hums, “Is that Jay guy still bothering you?”
You hesitate, teeth pressing down on your lower lip before you speak, “Not really.”
“That’s a yes, I’m going. My job clearly isn’t done if that guy still thinks he has a chance with you.”
It was decided then, Jungwon left no room to argue. The following week passed and before you knew it you were slipping into a beautiful dark floor length gown. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, trying to zip up the rest of your dress but not being able to reach on your own. Your hair and makeup were already set, jewelry highlighting your soft skin.
Jungwon was waiting for you in the living room, he had been ready for at least thirty minutes now but he knew better than to rush you.
Accepting defeat you huff, holding the dress in place before calling out his name in the quiet of your apartment. Almost instantly, three soft knocks are heard at your bedroom door.
“Come in, I can’t zip this up, could you help me?” You ask just as the door creaks open. Jungwon all but freezes at your doorway, eyes sliding down the length of your body and your exposed back. You felt a heat wash over yourself under the heavy weight of his gaze.
“Jungwon?” Your tone was breathless, not wanting to disturb whatever hovered in the distance between you. Jungwon cleared his throat, taking soft hesitant steps toward you before standing behind you. Your eyes meet his through the reflection of your full body mirror. He doesn’t say a word as his fingers trail down the length of your back, tracing the zipper until they grasp the end. His eyes follow the zipper as he closes it, watching the pieces of fabric connect to cover your soft skin. Once it’s fully closed you adjust your hair back, letting it drape down your back.
“Thank you.” Your voice is shaky, you’re sure he catches it too but he doesn’t say anything about it. “You look beautiful.” As if compelled to do so, Jungwon presses a soft kiss to your bare shoulder, surprising himself just as much as you.
“Thank you, you look handsome tonight.” Jungwon was an attractive man, so attractive that you almost refused the offer to move in with him because you knew you wouldn’t be able to put that aside. It’s very rare that he dresses up like this though, suit and tie with his hair styled neatly in a way that exposes his forehead. His lips curved into a shy smile at your complement, hand coming down to squeeze your waist before taking a step back. The newfound distance provides you with room to breathe.
“Ready to go?” You nod along and soon thereafter the two of you find yourself in an extravagant ballroom. Your company hosts this gala every year to honor its associates and partners. This year in particular you and Jay were nominated for an award for your work on the Taiwan deal. It was a high honor and whilst you were incredibly grateful, you weren’t prepared to share a table with Jay because of it.
The seating charts had you and Jungwon in a large round table along with Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon with his girlfriend. Sunghoon didn’t directly work for your company but he was a representative for a loyal partnering company. You have worked together so often at this point you consider him a friend just as you did Jake. You have met his girlfriend, Sooha, a couple times too so seeing her was always a plus.
“Jungwon, y/n! Nice to see you guys.” Jake smiled, standing up from his seat to greet you. Jungwon keeps one hand on the small of your back, the other shakes Jake's hand. “Great to see you again, Jake.”
“Sunghoon, Sooha, this is my boyfriend, Jungwon. Jungwon, this is Sunghoon and his girlfriend.” You introduce them, greeting the two kindly. Sooha smiles at you and gives you a brief hug as the men shake hands.
“Hello, Jay, you know Jungwon.” You force your lips into a tight smile. Jay nods, lifting his glass in greeting. The six of you find your seats again, Sunghoon starting a conversation instantly about some new project his company is starting but the work talk only lasts a couple minutes before Sooha leans closer to you, tilting her lips up in a smirk.
“You look gorgeous tonight, you two make an attractive couple.” Sooha smiles at you. A warmth colors your cheeks, “Thank you, that’s kind of you. I’m glad I could finally introduce him to you guys.”
Sunghoon turns to look at you then, “Me too, I can’t lie I was a little surprised, I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.” Sooha nods in agreement, “Yeah me neither, I had no idea.”
“Oh you weren’t the only one.” Jay adds, his tone is bitter as he lifts his glass to his lips, eyes elsewhere. You can feel Jungwon tense beside you, out of reflex your hand rests over his own on the table.
“Oh come on, I wasn’t surprised. With all due respect, y/n is stunning. I knew there was no way she was single, respectfully of course.” Jake shares, his eyes travel to Jungwon’s as if showing he meant no harm, to which Jungwon chuckles. “It’s alright, I know she’s gorgeous, I got lucky, I know I’m not the first one to try and I won’t be the last but I’m the one that’s lucky enough to be with her so.” The table erupts into light laughter, all but Jay who forces his lips into a tight smile.
“Well said.” Sooha compliments, taking a sip of her wine. Sunghoon nods, placing his arm around the back of Sooha’s chair. The conversation flows easy after that for everyone but Jay who seems to observe more than partake in the topic of discussion. His eyes find their way back to you or to Jungwon's hands on you.
After some time you spot an associate across the room that you had been meaning to talk to, you excuse yourself and invite Jungwon along with you to introduce him. Jungwon follows behind you with no hesitation, reaching the associate and greeting her with a smile. You jump into conversation with her, asking her something about her daughter's recital but Jungwon could not look away from the bar where Jay had travelled to. Jay was shamelessly checking you out, eyes trailing down the length of your body and Jungwon hated it.
He took a step closer to you, wrapping an arm around your waist, careful not to disturb your conversation. Jay doesn’t look away which only fuels Jungwon's annoyance. He hated this, the ugly feeling he felt during the holiday party was returning in the pit of his stomach. His jaw clenched and his fingers flexed against your dress.
This felt almost like a challenge of sorts, like Jay was pushing Jungwon to see how far he could go, how much he could get away with. It angered Jungwon to no end, he knew he was the possessive type, the feeling of jealousy was one he was familiar with when in love. He has always been like this in past relationships but of course it was never a feeling he experienced towards you.
This was new and uncharted territory for him. When your associate excused herself, leaving just the two of you standing there, Jungwon didn’t hesitate before leaning down to press a kiss to your shoulder, then another one to your temple. You feel your cheeks blush as the contact, “Jungwon?”
“He hasn’t stopped looking at you, not since we walked in.” He whispered softly into your ear, to anyone else it would paint the scene of two lovers sharing a sweet moment. But his tone took you by surprise, he didn’t sound like a friend looking out for you, he truly sounded like a jealous boyfriend who was just seconds away from claiming what’s his.
“Is he looking now?” You whisper back, not daring to look up on your own. Jungwon nods, “Mhm.”
With that you turn around in his hold to face him, “Dance with me?” You lead him into the dance floor where other couples danced slowly together. Jungwon was quick to place his hands around your waist, pulling you close so you had no choice but to wrap your arms around his neck.
“This is new.” You tease in a whisper. Jungwon laughs, “Very. But I like it.” You nod in agreement, letting Jungwon guide you in a slow dance. “I don’t like the way he looks at you.” He confesses softly into the air between you, holding his breath after as if he had just admitted his darkest secret.
You let his words sink in for a moment, considering all the different meanings if only influenced by a different context. If only this weren’t a facade meant to fool everyone around you. If only Jungwon wasn’t pretending to be your jealous boyfriend. If only this were real.
“I don’t like it either, but I’m not thinking about that right now.” Your breath hitches at your own words, eyes lifting up to meet his. Jungwon studies you for a moment, eyes dropping to your lips for just a second. “What are you thinking about?” The tone of his voice is heavy with some kind of emotion you have never heard from him before, there is something heated lying just beneath the surface but before you can dive into it, the music lowers as an announcer comes up to a podium asking everyone to return to their seats for the award ceremony.
Jungwon has to bite back a groan, offering his hand to you to guide you back to your table where your coworkers had already returned to. Sitting next to you in silence after your moment in the dancefloor was slowly killing him inside, he needed to hear what you were gonna say to him, he needed to know how you felt right now.
All the while awards are being handed out, Jungwon can’t help but feel his entire world spin on its axis, he feels as though everything is on the brink of falling apart.
You weren’t much better, your nerves should be targeted for your nomination, you should be thinking about what you’re going to say if you win, who will you thank. But instead you’re thinking about how Jungwon looked at you, how his jaw clenched when Jay looked at you. You can still feel his touch on your skin despite him not touching you since you sat down.
The beating of your heart is all you can hear, your thoughts are screaming at you to pull Jungwon aside and talk to him, to settle whatever is changing between the two of you. Perhaps it’s the atmosphere, the drinks, the fake relationship you’re currently showing off to everyone in your company. All of these things could be getting to you, making you see things that aren’t there, feel things you shouldn't feel.
Your own pulse inside your ears is so loud you almost miss them calling your name for the award. Jungwon recovers faster than you, clapping and smiling at you like the proud boyfriend he’s pretending to be. Sunghoon and Sooha along with everyone else in the room cheer for you and Jay as the two of you get up to claim your award at the podium.
Jay offers his hand to help you up the steps in your heels, you take it hesitantly even as your eyes instantly find Jungwons, almost as if you were asking for permission. Everything about tonight is so strange, since when do you look to Jungwon for approval for anything?
Jay takes the award and steps up to the microphone, “Thank you so much, I could not have done it without my beautiful partner here. All those long nights really paid off, it was all worth it for the success of the company and for this, thank you.” He steps back, allowing you to take his place.
Just as you were about to speak, you feel Jay place his hand on the small of your back. The podium and your bodies hide the action from the audience but Jungwon doesn’t miss the way your eyes slightly widen and how your body tenses under the lights.
You quickly take a step forward, “Thank you for this award, we are very grateful and honored. I want to thank our team and everyone that assisted us with this project, thank you to Jay for being a reliable business partner. And I want to thank my boyfriend, Jungwon, for keeping me sane when work was driving me up a wall and for waiting for me at home after all those long nights.” Laughter erupts in the hall, coworkers and partners alike are all amused with your speech but your eyes are only on Jungwon.
You chose your words carefully, making it clear to everyone, but mainly Jay, that once again you were not interested in anyone other than the brunette sitting at your table next to Jake. Jungwon smiles at you though his shoulders are straight and his eyes are attentive, laced with a possessiveness that pours out of him the longer he has to watch Jay stand next to you.
Jay attempted to guide you back to your table with his hand hovering at your back but you walk fast enough to stay just ahead of him so he wouldn’t touch you. Jungwon catches on quickly, standing from his seat to take your hand and pressing a loving kiss to your temple, your table claps at the display of affection.
“Congratulations.” He whispers to you, smiling as he helps you take your seat again.
“Did he touch you?” He leaned in close to whisper the question in a volume only you could hear, to others it appeared as those he was simply whispering sweet nothings to his lover, but you felt the seriousness of his tone. Your eyes met his and you gave him an almost imperceptible nod.
Jungwon's eyes flared and his jaw clenched, you were half convinced he would stand up and punch Jay right then and there. But Jungwon wasn’t a violent person, he was possessive and stern but never violent. So he just takes a deep breath through his nose, hand resting over your own on the table.
You leaned in, breath fanning his ear sending goosebumps down his body, “Night’s almost over.” Realistically he knew your words were meant to calm him, but he couldn’t help but feel anxious like there was still much to unfold. Deep down he knew the night was far from over.
Surely enough, he was right. Dinner and more drinks were served throughout the ballroom. You and Jungwon had done your rounds talking to your coworkers and business partners around the room. Jungwon had made it his mission to keep you as far away from Jay as physically possible when away from the table.
The event was coming to a close when your CEO called for everyone's attention for a closing speech. Back at your table with the others it was hard to ignore Jay's eyes on you, you could feel the way his glance travelled down the length of your exposed skin. Clearly having had one too many drinks on him he was failing to conceal his attention on you. This only fueled the man sitting next to you, his anger rising by the second.
Surely this was past the point of a concerned friend or a pretend jealous boyfriend. Jungwon's jealousy seemed real, more real than you were willing to admit because that realization caused a completely different one to spur from the pit of your stomach. You liked it. You liked that he was jealous, liked the way his hold on you tightened whenever he felt Jay looking your way, relished in the way his jaw clenched in frustration as a way to hold back whatever he truly wanted to say in the moment.
A thrill went up your spine as it dawned on you, you liked seeing Jungwon get possessive with you. Without realizing it, your eyes trained on his jaw, watching as it clenched and unclenched before drifting down to his tense shoulders and calculated breathing. Almost immediately you found yourself crossing your legs and squeezing your thighs together to subside the sudden ache between your thighs. You never thought jealousy could look so attractive on a person. Although it’s not just any person, it’s Jungwon, your Jungwon. As an already extremely attractive man, seeing him with his jealous eyes and tense posture just made him down right devastating. Enough to soak your panties through if you didn’t know any better.
And apparently you didn't.
The crowd applauded as your CEO wished everyone a good night and thanked them for coming. Sunghoon and Sooha were the first to say their goodbyes at your table.
“Jungwon, it was good to finally meet you. We should meet up again soon, the four of us should grab dinner.” He smiled, his arm wrapped lovingly over Soohas shoulder. Jungwon smiled and nodded, hand at the small of your back. “Absolutely, we’ll plan something soon.”
“Excluding me already, I met you first.” Jake fake pouts at Jungwon who only chuckles whilst shaking his head. “Up to you if you want to third wheel a double date.” The group laughs, promising to make plans for the future, Sunghoon and Sooha are the first to walk away with Jake following not far behind.
You send a small nod towards Jay and you’re just about to turn to walk away when Jungwon stops you, “Hold on, wait right here.” He grins before turning back to Jay. You watch as he shakes his hand and steps closer to him, saying something that you can’t quite make out. You watch as Jay’s face drops, eyes dropping to the ground and Jungwon steps back with that same easy grin on his face. Within moments he’s back beside you.
“What was that?” He only shakes his head at you, “Don’t worry about it, he shouldn’t be bothering you anymore.” You’re not sure what he means by that but at this moment you don’t think you want to find out.
Jungwon has his arm wrapped around you, not even bothering to look in Jays direction before turning to you. “Ready to go home?” The way he says it sends a shock right to your core, the heat that was building in between your thighs all night suddenly becoming unbearable.
“Let’s go home.” Jungwon stares down at you as you say it, a warmth spread through his chest, he nearly has to hold back a grunt at the way you look up at him so innocently as if you have no idea what you’re doing to him. He nods in response, tightening his hold around you before leading you back to his car.
The drive back home reminded you of the night of the Holiday party. The air around you was tense and slightly awkward but tonight there was also a hint of something else. It was hot, regardless of the AC being on, you were feeling more and more frustrated with every red light. You just needed to get home, to do what exactly? You weren’t sure, maybe a cold shower was enough to remind you that this was all fake and however you were seeing Jungwon at this moment isn’t real.
The silence is suffocating and Jungwon could practically feel the heat radiating off your body. It was killing him to focus on the road when all he wanted to do was admire you sitting there in his car, in that stunning dress, all while trying to discreetly press your thighs together even though Jungwon had caught it the first time you did it back at the table. It took everything in him to not react, it was even more trying now with him gripping onto the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white.
You were in his car, in that dress, and turned on and it was killing him to not be able to touch you. He needed some form of a distraction, he would take anything at this point if it meant he would be able to stop thinking about your pretty thighs squeezing together for him underneath your dress.
“I’m sorry about Jay, I guess I downplayed it more than I realized.” You spoke first. Jungwon wasn’t really wanting to think about that either, it raised another kind of emotion in him that he was still getting used to with you. A lot of things were changing tonight evidently.
“Yeah, a lot more. I don’t like him.” Jungwon's response is short and calculated, he didn’t want to say anything too forward while his thoughts were still elsewhere.
You laughed at that, shaking your head which brought his gaze over to you for just a moment. The stress lining the space above his eyebrows eases at the sight of your smile, he can’t help but smile softly in return.
“Oh really? I couldn’t tell. You were staring at him all night like you wanted to kill him, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were-” You stop yourself, realizing if you finished that sentence the light hearted conversation would go right back to the tense atmosphere you were just in. But it was too late for that, Jungwon wasn’t about to let that go unnoticed.
“If you didn’t know any better what? Finish that.” His voice is stern now but still kind, he still used that soft tone he reserved for you but his words convinced you that he was not playing around anymore.
You look at him, studying his side profile as he makes it a point to stare straight ahead, not daring to turn away from the road for even a second. You were almost home, what were the chances you could stall until he pulled into your apartment building?
A moment passed, you were getting closer and closer to your apartment but Jungwon didn’t push further. He didn’t ask again like he knew you would answer the first time.
“If I didn’t know any better I would say you were actually jealous tonight.” You responded just as he pulled into your building parking garage. You hear Jungwon let out a breath, his grip tightens on the while but he doesn’t say anything until he fully parks the car, turning the engine off and granting the two of you just a moment of silence.
“And if I was?” Your breath nearly gets caught in your throat. You weren’t fully expecting that, sure there was that tiny hopeful voice in your head that believed he might be even just slightly as affected as you have been all night but you didn’t actually believe it to be true.
“I mean, I would have no reason to be, right? Because this is fake?” He asks aloud before you can respond to his first statement. The question sets you back, you blink at him without knowing what to say. Jungwon doesn’t give you a second to dwell on it, he opens the door and gets out of the car, already fishing into his pockets for the apartment keys and waiting for you.
Without Jungwon in the car you allow your confusion to display on your face for just a moment before following him. Jungwon is waiting for you but clearly keeping a distance between the two of you as you begin to walk towards the elevators. Being in this enclosed space with him now was nervewracking, you didn’t know what to say to that. Technically he was right, there was no reason for him to get jealous because this was all pretend, you two weren’t actually dating. But then again, that hasn’t stopped you from swooning over him since the holiday party.
You’re practically holding your breath the entire elevator ride, looking down at your heels. All that could be heard was that awkward elevator music and surely the pounding of your heart. Jungwon barely waits for the doors to fully open before he’s walking out the doors, he already has his keys in his hand.
To his credit, he looks back to make sure you’re still behind him before he opens the door and steps inside, holding it for you as well. You step inside your apartment, watching as Jungwon silently locks the door before slipping out of his shoes with ease. You lean against the entryway wall to fiddle with the strap of your heels. The shakiness of your hands isn’t helping you at this moment, sighing with a huff as the strap keeps slipping from your hold.
Jungwon, who was already in the kitchen with a cold bottle of water in hand, turns to look at you with an almost wounded expression. He watches you fight with your heel strap for another moment before silently walking over to you and kneeling before you. With the gentlest touch you’ve ever felt, Jungwon slowly lifts your foot to rest on his knee and carefully undoes the strap before switching to the other one.
You watch in shock and awe, holding your breath as you watch him remove your heel, placing it softly on the ground but still not letting go of your ankle. You watch him, unblinking, as he turns his head back to your foot. His eyes trail the length of your leg, peeking at the bit of exposed thigh under your dress, up your hips and waist until his eyes finally meet yours. Without looking away from your eyes, Jungwon leans down to press a kiss to the inside of your ankle, rubbing the area softly before setting your foot back on the ground.
All the air in your lungs was surely knocked out of you after that, your heart rate is now a concerning speed but you can’t bring yourself to look away from him.
“I was jealous and possessive, in a way I probably shouldn’t have been. I’m sorry.” He whispered, still kneeling on the ground in front of you. His left hand softly caressed the side of your knee over your dress, sighing quietly. This was unexpected in a way that sent a wave of pure heat straight down to your core. You reached a hand down to run your fingers through his hair, holding onto his jaw to tilt his head up.
“It’s ok, won, it felt real to me too.” You smiled once he leans into your touch, closing his eyes gently as if he was taking advantage of this moment, not wanting to forget it. You gently guide him back up to stand in front of you, Jungwon doesn’t dare look away from you right now. “I liked being with you like that, I liked having your arm around me and dancing with you. It was nice.” You admit into the quiet of your shared apartment. Jungwon smiles as he looks down for a moment, nodding in agreement.
“Me too. I noticed it the first night, during the holiday party but I ignored it. I don’t want to ignore it anymore, baby.” His confession has your heart skipping a beat in the most cliche way possible. You smile up at him, “Me neither.”
Jungwon gives himself a moment to admire your features, admire the way you’re looking at him right now with a look in your eyes he had never seen before. He smiles, taking a step closer before cupping your jaw with his hands and leaning forward to press a soft but meaningful kiss to your lips. Your lips mold together perfectly like they were always meant to tangle together as they are now.
In nearly three years of living with Jungwon, you’d be lying if you said you never considered what it would be like to kiss him. You thought about it many times actually, more times than you would ever admit out loud. But none of those daydreams or fantasies could ever compare to the real thing. You were starting to understand that Jungwon was a very possessive person in every aspect of his life, including when it came to kissing you. His kiss wasn’t just loving or passionate, it was claiming. His hands had travelled to round your waist, one hand sliding up your back which sends goosebumps down your spine.
He tilted his head to kiss you deeper, his tongue slipping past your soft lips to claim the inside of your mouth. You had never been kissed like this, it was breathtaking and earth shattering. It was that type of kiss you thought only existed in the movies or those romantic books you read and tell everyone they’re just fantasy.
After a couple more breathless moments the two of you slowly pull away to take a breath, Jungwon studies your reaction, admiring the blush on your cheeks and the eyes your eyes seem like they’re struggling to focus.
“That was-”
“Yeah.”
The two of you smile before chuckling together, Jungwon takes a step back, looking you up and down before speaking again. “Just so we’re clear, this means something to me, I want to take you out on an official date and I want to try this with you…but I also want to take you back to my room right now and take care of you.”
You smile at his words and let out a breathless sigh before nodding, “I want that too.” He smiles at you with that warm smile that never fails to make you swoon. “Good.” He nods once before he’s pulling you in again by the waist, crashing his lips to your this time with more urgency than before. He starts walking you backwards without pulling his lips from yours, guiding you back towards his bedroom without ever breaking the kiss.
One clumsy turn has him backing into a wall, groaning softly against your mouth. You gasp and then stifle your giggle with your hand, pulling away to make sure he was okay. He shakes his head, masking his embarrassment by muttering a quick, “Fuck it” under his breath and scoopping you into his arms. He picks you up bridal style, walking quickly over to his room and kicking the door closed behind him as he sets you back down on the floor.
He turns you around swiftly, having you face the wall with your hands coming up to brace yourself at the feeling of his touch wandering the length or your back and waist.
“You look so beautiful, baby. Tell me I can take this off of you..” He whispers against your skin, leaving kisses down the back of your shoulder. His fingers toy with the zipper of your dress, the same one he helped close earlier in the night.
“Please.” You whimper, pressing your forehead against the wall to try to calm your breathing. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip with a sigh once you feel Jungwon's fingers pull the zipper down at a tortuously slow pace. Jungwon has to hold his breath the more skin he reveals with his actions, he tries not to groan at the sight of your matching bra and underwear set, a striking color against your skin that has him drooling before he can even really get his hands on you. He carefully pushes the straps of the dress off your shoulders until the material drops and pools at your feet.
He curses under his breath at the sight of your nearly naked body, his left hand comes down to slide past your waist onto your ass, groaning at the feeling of your soft skin. The curve of your ass attracts him to no end but before he could drop to his knees to worship you how he knows you deserve, you turn around to face him. Instantly his eyes come up to your cleavage before dropping down to the front of your panties, biting back a groan.
“Fuck, baby. You’re stunning.” He compliments, eyes trailing back up to meet yours with no rush at all. You smile, pushing down a blush that you know is already painting your cheeks. Without saying another word, Jungwon watches in awe as you sink to your knees before him. Hands sitting pretty across your lap as you look up at him with those beautiful eyes of yours. Jungwon holds back another curse at the sight of you on your knees.
“Is this ok, wonie?” The question is followed with your touch sliding up his thighs, playing with the clasp of his belt. Jungwon nods, already unbuttoning the top of his shirt and pulling his sleeves up to his elbows. You smile at the sight before bringing your hand down to squeeze at his covered bulge. Jungwon clenches his jaw at that, biting back another groan.
“Don’t tease, baby.” You smile at that but ultimately do as you're told. Within seconds you’re pulling his pants and underwear down to reveal his entire length. The corners of your lips curve upwards when you hear him suck in a breath through his teeth once your fingers wrap around the base of him.
With your eyes looking up at him you spit seductively onto his length, using your hand to stroke him until your spit has coated him entirely. “Haah” He sighs, he’s holding his shirt up with one hand, the other was clenched into a fist by his side. The second you actually wrap your pretty lips around the tip of his already leaking cock Jungwon actually tilts forward, having to hold his hand out against the wall behind you to keep himself upright.
The feeling of your warm mouth taking him so prettily was enough to have his knees nearly buckling on their own accord. He would almost feel embarrassed if he wasn’t so incredibly turned on right now. Your mouth works quickly on him, you suck in your cheeks and slide your tongue along the underside of his cock. Your hand strokes what can’t fit in your mouth in time with your movements. A sense of pride washes over you and you look up and visibly see Jungwon struggling to keep it together.
“Fuck, your mouth is so warm-s’tight. Shit, just like that, baby.” He grunts through clenched teeth. His hand drops to hold your hair out of the way, holding it in a makeshift ponytail. You suck his length harder and faster, ignoring the ache in your jaw once you feel Jungwon's grip tighten on your hair. He was getting close and you needed his release like you needed air. You pushed yourself even farther down his length, taking him as deep as you could before your throat constrict around him. You gag around him once but Jungwon only curses at the sound, feeling himself growing closer to his release.
“Shit, right there baby, I’m so close.” He curses under his breath, trying to silence his grunts but the attempt is laughable. He’s so loud and whiny you can feel yourself growing wetter just from the sound. His sounds only get louder, at this point you’re clenching around nothing to just feel some kind of release. You have never seen someone look or sound so attractive in a state like this, all you can think about is how badly you want to do this again and again.
His hand on your hair grips you tightly, forcing you deeper as he releases right down your throat, cursing out loud with your name on his lips. You swallow his release instantly, humming at the taste with his dick still inside you. You give him another moment to catch his breath before pulling back with a pop. Your hand caresses his thigh softly, allowing him a moment to come back down from his high.
He blinks down at you, breathing hard. His hands help you up, instantly crashing his lips against yours. He could still taste himself on your lips and it only makes him groan. The ache between your thighs was becoming unbearable and you were positive you have never been this turned on in your life.
“Get on the bed, baby.” He whispered against your lips, pressing one more swift kiss there before stepping back. His eyes never leave your body as you walk toward the bed, leaning your body over before laying down to give him the best view of your ass. Jungwon lets out another groan, already feeling himself growing hard again. His hands work fast to remove his clothing before meeting you at the foot of the bed.
A gasp slips past your lips unintentionally with Jungwon pulling you by your ankles to the edge of the bed, he smirks. For the second time tonight, you watch in awe as Jungwon gracefully kneels to the ground, only this time it’s between your open thighs. He pushes your legs open softly and has to visibly hold back a groan upon seeing a wet patch right at the center of your underwear.
He leans forward, pressing a soft kiss right at the inside of your thigh, trailing his lips closer and closer to where you need him most. A soft hum sounds from your throat, your eyes falling closed at the feeling. You can help but lift yourself on your elbows to watch him pull your underwear down, you didn’t want to miss a second of this.
“Fuck, you’re just pretty everywhere, aren’t you, doll?” He compliments with his eyes never leaving your now bare pussy. He practically drools over the sight of your soaked folds, automatically leaning forward to press another kiss on the skin right above your cunt.
You watch him lean back again only to spit slowly onto your folds just to watch it slide down your center. Your body jolts at the feeling to which Jungwon grins, he was going to enjoy the hell out of himself by teasing you like this.
“Jungwon-” You’re about to start begging but he silences you with his index fingers coming up to slide through your folds, collecting your arousal and swirling it all the way up to your clit. A silent gasp shoots through you. He uses his thumb now to circle your clit once, twice, studying the way your body reacts to being played with like this.
“You’re so wet, dripping all over my hand and I haven’t even started yet.” You’re not sure if he’s even talking to you anymore, his eyes are focused on your pussy, mesmerized with every twitch and pulse of your walls. His fingers circle your entrance, teasing your leaking hole with a delicious pace before finally sinking both inside you in one go.
The moan that escapes you has Jungwon's dick twitching at attention, he watches his fingers pump inside you, pulling more of your juices out with each stroke. “Wonie..” Your moans and whines are fucking music to the brunettes ears, he decides right here and now that is his new favorite sound. His eyes travel upwards to watch your face, the picture of pure bliss and pleasure displayed all over your features. Without hesitating, Jungwon leans down to drag his tongue up the length of your folds, fingers still pulsing inside you. His tongue comes up to your clit, sucking it into his mouth and swirling his tongue until your legs try to close around his head.
“Jungwon! Wait-” You’re cut off by another moan that pushes through you. His speed picks up and his tongue moves harsher to match his pace. He shakes his head against your wet folds, “Tastes s’good, tastes like mine.” He groans, his voice sending another level of vibrations up your core. Your hands find their way to his hair to pull at and run through as you feel yourself growing closer to that pinnacle release. Another moan in the shape of his name slips past your lips in a breathless haze.
Then he curls his fingers in a certain way that nudges that little spongy part inside of you so perfectly it has you seeing stars, that along with the way his tongue never moves away from your clit has your thighs tightening around his head and fingers pulling his hair to keep him exactly where he is. If that wasn’t evidence enough of your upcoming orgasm, the way you arched your back completely off the bed and the loud moan that shot through you was enough to have Jungwon press forward until he felt your walls squeeze his fingers. Your orgasm doesn’t just wash over you like you’re used to, this one shoots through you with the power of at least three orgasms in one.
You cry out his name, twitching in his hold despite him pulling away softly to allow you a moment to catch your breath just as you did for him before. He admires the way your body reacts to his touch now, your cunt is damn near pulsing, crying for more. His hand caresses your thigh before crawling upwards to hover above you.
“You’re so beautiful when you come, will you show me again?” He whispers against your lips, pressing a soft kiss there once and then twice. You nod, eyes struggling to fully stay open thanks to the earth shattering orgasm from before. “Please..please fuck me, wonie.” He groans at that, dropping his face into your neck and kissing your skin.
“Fuck, you don’t even know what you’re doing to me.”
You can only watch with anticipation as Jungwon slides his hardened dick through your slick folds, the tip catches onto your overstimulated clit making your gasp aloud. “So responsive for me.” He smiles then slides his tip back down to your entrance, teasingly slipping just the tip inside of you until you moan for him and then pulling back out.
“Jungwon, please,” he does it again, sliding his tip in only to pull out and repeat it a couple more times until you’re practically crying, “you’re being so mean.” Your pout is what catches his attention, he grins at you before kissing your pouty lips.
“Mean? That’s not mean baby, this is mean.” He slams his entire length into you in one go, a loud moan bordering on scream rips through your throat as your entire body jolts upwards on the bed at the sudden intrusion. The pain is quick to subside to pleasure as Jungwon mercilessly pounds into you right from the start. He doesn’t give you any time to adjust, instead opting for fucking into you fast and rough. His hands drag your legs over his shoulders, nearly folding you in half in order to thrust deeper into you.
He was pounding you into the mattress so good you were already struggling to keep your eyes open. Jungwon admired the way your back arched and your head tilted back. He was absolutely captivated with your body, loving the way your hands alternated from holding onto the bedsheets and his own arms.
Your walls molded around his cock, making you his perfect little cock sleeve much to Jungwon's pleasure. “So tight around me, you’re soaked through, baby. Shit, so wet, so warm, your pretty pussy's gonna make me come.”
You can already feel your second orgasm of the night approaching, your walls tighten around him and you can barely give him a warning before you feel yourself falling apart. “That’s it, baby. So sexy coming around my dick like that.” He fucks into you as you come, never stoppping his movements. He lowers your legs from his shoulder, wrapping them around his waist instead in order to get closer to you.
Now chest to chest, Jungwons trusts slow down as he kisses you lovingly, a stark contrast to the way he was just fucking you.
“So good for me, you’ll give me another one right?” He’s asking but he doesn’t wait for an answer. Before you could protest with cries of overstimulation, Jungwon is already turning you onto your stomach, forcing you onto your knees with one hand pressing your head against the pillows.
“You can take it, fuck.” His movements pick up again, slamming into you from behind. His eyes are trained on the way your ass jiggles with every thrust, his left hand comes down to grope and squeeze your ass and hips and his other still holds your head down.
“Fuck, all mine. You’re all mine, no other motherfucker will ever have you like this again.” His thrusts are punishing now, almost like he was taking his anger out on you and you were starting to realize exactly why.
“The asshole thinks he can touch you, you were mine before he even met you, I’ll make sure he remembers that, yeah?” The jealousy was pouring out of him with every word and thrust of his hips. You were moaning and crying into the pillows, your body already twitching with overstimulation and exhaustion. You would’ve never expected Jungwon to fuck you within an inch of your life, even worse you never expected it to feel so good.
“I'm so close- need you to come with me. Fuck I need to feel you baby, please.” His groans have turned into whines now, thrusts growing sloppier but his hand comes around to rub at your clit in time with his movements. A sharp cry rips from your lips just as your third orgasm crashes through your body. Jungwon feels your walls constrict around him and suddenly he watches as your juices squirt out of you soaking his entire lower body and his bed below him. The sight alone is enough to bring Jungwon over the edge too, he grips the base of his cock once just before spilling all over your ass and lower back.
Your body collapses onto the bed, legs feeling weak and shaking. Your brain was still catching up with your body, not even realizing you squirted for the first time until Jungwon flips you again over onto your back.
“You’re such a pretty squirter, baby.” His tongue is already sticking out past his lips, eyes focused on your soaking pussy.
➜ summary: you just moved into a new building, right across from three loud guys. two said sorry and the third couldn’t care less.
pairing: pshx f!reader,wc: 14k words , genre: enemies to lovers ish, neighbor!au, fluff, romcom w: rude jokes, cussing, kissing
The elevator doors swung open, and soon you stepped out into the third floor hallway. You looked like you were moving in, which in your defense…you were. The oversized hoodie slipping off one shoulder, arms hugging a stack of takeout containers and a cactus you had that had pricked you far too many times, but that didn’t matter. You were finally on your own.
Unit 3B. That was you now.
Your keys jingled in your palm as you found the door, nudged it open with one knee, and stepped into the apartment you’d stared at for months on rental listings. It wasn’t huge, but it had a little kitchen with enough space for your mum’s rice cooker, and a balcony that caught the sun in the morning. You spun around in the centre of the room, grinning, almost knocking the cactus you had just placed on the counter in the process.
And by nightfall, the place felt like yours. Your fairy lights were strung up across your living room. Your fridge held exactly a bottle of soda, some tuna you had eaten an hour ago and a bag of unwashed grapes. You lit a vanilla candle, the one your best friend, Jungwon, made you promise to use so you'd remember him… even while being so far apart. But Jungwon hated travelling, so in his mind, you'd basically moved to another continent.
Jungwon dramatically declared, “You’re practically moving to another country.”
“Jungwon, I’m literally a two-hour train ride away.”
“That’s basically Europe.”
You rolled your eyes at the memory, smiling to yourself.
Still, you were glad you’d made the decision to move. Three years ahead of you… of being on your own, of learning to be independent, part-time jobs, and what you hoped…a future incoming relationship. It should be easy. It should be peaceful. It should be—
“DUDE!!!”
A scream ripped through your wall.
It came from the wall to your right, a thin wall nudged between you and your neighbours. You could hear celebrations. A voice shouted, “THAT WAS INSANE!” followed by a loud thump like someone had jumped off the sofa.
You tried ignoring it at first, burying yourself under the blanket like it could block out noise. But 20 minutes in, another screamed “HE’S OFFSIDE, YOU DUMB—” loud enough to rattle the walls, you snapped.
You threw on your hoodie, jammed your feet into slippers, and marched out the front door like you were storming a battlefield. The hallway was dim and quiet, except for the muffled party behind door 3C. You knocked, hard, but polite.
The door creaked open mid-laughter, revealing three guys mid-snack, mid-game.
“Hi,” you said, tight smile. “Sorry to bother you, but… would you mind keeping it down a little? I’ve got a test tomorrow and it’s kinda hard to focus with all the screaming.”
The one with fluffy hair, cute little eyes, nodded immediately. “Shit. Sorry, sorry. Totally our bad.”
Another one, long lashes and a goofy smile, actually winced. “Didn’t realise it was that loud. We’ll keep it down, promise.”
“Are you new here?” the first one asked.
You nodded. “I just moved in today, actually.”
“Oh shit. Mrs Kim moved out?”
“Damn, we’re not getting her kimchi anymore, that’s for sure.”
“We gotta eat those store-bought ones that taste like ass.”
The second boy looked at you again, more focused this time. “Oh right! I’m Jake! It’s great to meet you! I’m sorry it happened under… unfortunate circumstances. But we’ll be quieter!”
“I’m Jay, by the way,” the first one added with a small grin, pushing his hair back.
You nodded, smiling slightly. At least they were nice about it. Well, two out of three, anyway.
You glanced past both of them, eyes landing on the third boy slouched on the couch, still holding the controller, gaze fixed on the paused screen like you weren’t even there. His jaw clenched once. No name. No hello. Just a subtle, annoyed glance in your direction before he looked away again.
Cool. So he hates you. That’s cool with you.
The third guy didn’t say anything. Just glanced at you once, then turned back toward the TV.
“Uh, thanks,” you said, lips tight, already backing away.
You returned to your apartment and for a blessed thirty minutes, it was quiet.
Then someone scored a goal and the wall shook again.
You blinked slowly at your ceiling, arms folded under your head like the weight of your patience was finally starting to crush your ribs. Okay. So that’s how it was going to be. You frowned.
And that was literally… how war started.
The next morning, fuelled by petty vengeance and two hours of sleep, you grabbed your pastel pink sticky notes and wrote:
“Dear 3C, I’ve played FIFA before. It is not that damn fun for you to be out here screaming. Please tone it down. Regards, the zombie in 3B.”
You slapped it on their door. Nothing changed.
And the next day:
“Dear 3C, I can’t sleep. Kindly shut up <3 With love, the girl one more sleepless night away from writing to the landlord. 3B.”
You half expected them to ignore it. Instead, you found your note missing by mid-afternoon. Gone.
For a moment, you felt powerful. Maybe they’d actually listened.
Then 8:43 p.m. hit and someone in 3C scored a goal so loud you swore the bass from their TV made your candle flicker.
Alright. So it was personal now.
You stormed over to their door again, hands on your hips.. It wasn’t that late. You weren’t unreasonable. You believed in joy. In freedom. But right now? Rage was the only thing pumping through your system.
You shuffled down the hall with your bunny slippers slapping against the floor, hair in a claw clip that was giving up. You looked deranged. And for the first time, you were fine with that. You banged on their door.
The door cracked open a second later, revealing Jake blinking like a deer in headlights. His hair was messy. He looked mildly afraid.
“Were… we being loud again?”
You stared at him, deadpan. “Ya think?”
Jake rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, okay. I’m so sorry. It’s Sunghoon. He keeps saying it’s not that loud and we were mid-tournament and—”
“Tell Sunghoon that his ego’s not the only thing echoing through these walls,” you snapped, arms crossed. “Some of us are trying to study.”
Behind Jake, you heard a familiar scoff followed by a smug voice yelling, “God, she’s so annoying. We were literally whispering.”
You leaned to the side, locking eyes with the third boy slouched on the couch, controller in hand, feet on the coffee table like the world owed him something. He didn’t even pause the game this time.
You didn’t know what it was about his stupidly symmetrical face but your blood boiled.
“Tell this Sunghoon guy…his whispering sounds like a screeching cat,” you said flatly, before spinning on your heel and marching back toward your door when you heard his aggravating voice.
“Tell her she’s overreacting over a couple of friends simply trying to have fun,” Sunghoon fired back from the couch, not even raising his voice.
You turned your head just enough to glare over your shoulder. “Well, tell him, his shirt doesn’t match his fucking pants.”
Jake looked helpless, standing between you both like a middle child caught in a divorce.
And then, with that same bored tone, Sunghoon called out again, “Well, tell her… those slippers are the best thing she’s worn all week.”
You stopped.
Jake sucked in a breath.
You slowly turned, eyes narrowing. “Tell him he wouldn’t know good fashion if it came with a user manual and punched him in his freaking face.”
Sunghoon finally glanced away from the TV, meeting your eyes for the first time that night. His lips curved into the most irritating half-smile you’d ever seen.
“Tell her–”
Jake stepped in between again, hands raised. “Okay! Okay. We’re gonna turn the volume down. Like, way down. Like you can’t even hear us tiptoe. Right, Sunghoon?”
Sunghoon leaned back against the couch and shrugged. “Whatever. I’m not the one annoying my neighbors at 9pm on a Friday night. Get some friends.”
You slammed your door shut.
War was back on.
-
The next morning, your plan was simple. A little petty, sure, but necessary.
You stood outside their door in your pyjamas, holding a fresh pack of neon yellow Post-its since your previous ones were used up by the ongoing Post-It war.The hallway was empty. Your bunny slippers made no sound as you padded up to 3C and stuck the first one of the week dead-centre on the door.
“Dear 3C, just a gentle reminder that FIFA will not feed you, clothe you, or give you money. Kindly shut up. PLEASE. Warmest regards, 3B.”
You smiled to yourself and floated back to your apartment.
That night? For the first time…? Silence. Beautiful, blissful silence. You actually managed to revise two chapters and fall asleep before midnight. You woke up in the morning feeling like a changed woman.
But then you opened your front door.
There, taped neatly to your door, was a blue sticky note with surprisingly neat handwriting.
“Dear 3B, you sound like you narrate your life out loud. – 3C.”
Your jaw dropped.
“Narrate your life out loud?” you muttered. “That’s literally called thinking.”
You marched back into your apartment, flung open your stationery drawer.
“Dear 3C, apologies if my internal monologue disrupted your daily FIFA championship. I only talk to myself because your volume settings make it impossible to hear my own thoughts. With all due respect (and ear damage), 3B."
That afternoon, Jay knocked on your door. You hesitated, then opened it a crack. He was holding a bag of convenience store pancakes in one hand.
“Peace offering,” he said. “Also, I think your notes are hilarious. Jake’s been collecting them. I think he’s making a scrapbook.”
You blinked. “Is this a joke or something?”
Jay shrugged, leaning casually against the doorframe. “No! Honestly, it’s kinda refreshing.”
Jake popped his head in from behind, grinning. “Also, your handwriting’s really neat.”
You opened the door a little wider, cautious then shrugged. “You want some… uh… spaghetti? I made it this morning.”
“Spaghetti?” Jay tilted his head.
You nodded. “Yeah. I usually experiment with food. I’m…uh…in culinary school.”
Jake’s eyes widened. “Wait, so you’re like… a chef?”
“Trying to be.,” you said with a shrug, suddenly a little self-conscious.
They exchanged a quick look before barging in like you'd personally handed them invites at the door.
“That’s so cool,” Jake said, practically bouncing as he flopped onto your beanbag. “I burnt instant noodles last week. Twice.”
Jay wandered deeper into your living room, his gaze landing on the dusty old guitar leaning against your bookshelf. “Dude, check it out! She plays the guitar.”
You rubbed the back of your neck, awkward. “It’s just for fun. I’m not that good.”
“I’m sure you’re great,” Jake said, already chewing through a mouthful of spaghetti he’d somehow found, and served himself in a bowl you didn’t remember offering.
You blinked at him. “Did you just—?”
“Plate was right there,” he said through a mouthful. “I took it as a sign.”
Jay nodded solemnly. “She feeds us and plays guitar. She’s better than Mrs. Kim already.”
You sighed and closed the door behind them. “I’m starting to think Mrs. Kim left because of the three of you.”
In between bites, Jake nodded without hesitation. “I think so too.”
“We can be loud,” Jay added, helping himself to another serving.
“Have you thought of… not being loud?”
“We do,” Jay said. “But then we get loud again.”
You rolled your eyes. “Guys, some of us have school and—”
“We have school too,” Jake chimed in, mouth full.
“Okay… some of us care about sleep.”
Jay perked up. “That’s why we got you this.”
He dug into his hoodie pocket and pulled out a tiny box, dropping it into your hands.
You squinted at it. “What’s this?”
“They’re sleep buds,” he said proudly. “They go in your ears and play white noise and, like… ocean sounds or something. Blocks everything out. Even us.”
You stared at the box, then at them.
“Instead of compromising, you got me gear?”
Jake grinned. “Yeah. We like you. We want you to be able to sleep… through us.”
Jay gave you a thumbs-up. “It’s called adaptation.”
You looked down at the sleep buds in your hands and then back up at the two of them absolutely inhaling your spaghetti like they hadn’t eaten in weeks.
You didn’t know whether to kick them out or thank them.
So you just sighed, defeated. “You guys are the weirdest neighbours I’ve ever had.”
Jake beamed. “Aww. You’re the weirdest too.”
And somehow… the next day… they were back.
You opened the door mid-knock, confused, only to find Jay grinning at you.
“What’s for lunch today, boss?” he asked, already halfway through the doorway.
You blinked. “How’d you know I made something?”
“We could smell it,” Jake said, stepping in right behind him, holding up a comically large spoon. “Smells so good. Brought my big spoon today. Came prepared.”
“Uh… I made chowder?”
Jake’s eyes lit up. “Oh my god, I love chowder.”
Jay had already plopped onto the floor cushion, flipping through your Spotify like he owned your iPad. “What kind? Clam? Corn? Pumpkin? Wait… do people put pumpkin in chowder?”
You stared at them, ladle in hand.
“Corn,” you muttered, shuffling back into the kitchen.
Then the day after that… they came again. At this point, it felt less like a surprise and more like a recurring appointment.
“No fucking way. Kimchi stew? This shit is so good!. Jay, you need to try the beef. It’s so soft. How— how’d you get it so soft? Is this like one of those expensive beef? Wakoo?”
“It’s Wagyu, Jake.” You corrected.
“Wagyu~” He sang.
Jay, already mid-bite, nodded with a full mouth. “Can I havefth thefth reshepee?”
You wiped your hands on a dish towel, leaning against the counter with one brow raised. “Do you guys ever eat in your own apartment?”
Jake didn’t miss a beat. “Not when you cook like this.”
Jay pointed his chopsticks at you like he was making a closing argument in court. “This is technically your fault. You fed us once. That’s basically a binding contract. We’re best friends now. Aren’t we, Jake?”
Jake nodded, mouth full. “Mhmff. Whatever he said.”
You sighed, setting your elbow on the table and dropping your chin into your hand. “If you’re gonna keep doing this, at least wash the dishes after.”
Jake saluted you with his spoon like you were the captain of a very tiny, soup-based army. “Yes, chef.”
You looked at the two of them, one already on his third helping, the other stealing more beef straight from the pot, and shook your head.
This wasn’t how your independent, put-together, college life was supposed to go. You were meant to be focused. The mysterious girl on the third floor who only ever came out for groceries and exams.
But maybe… with the two of them barging in uninvited, eating like they hadn’t seen food in years, and treating your living room like it was theirs…
Maybe you wouldn’t feel so lonely after all.
-
It was 9 p.m. Strangely quiet.
Usually, by now, there’d be at least one goal celebration shaking the walls or someone shouting about a missed penalty. But tonight? Nothing. You didn’t let it bother you. You took it as a win.
The balcony door slid open with a soft scrape. You stepped out into the cool night, cradling your little scissors and spray bottle like sacred tools. Your succulents were arranged in a neat line. A few leaves had started to curl. You knelt down, snipping the dead ends carefully.
You should’ve felt peaceful.
But tonight, something tugged at your chest.
You missed Jungwon. You missed your mom’s mismatched cutlery and the way your dad always forgot he’d already asked about your grades. Maybe even your pet fish, the one that never did much except float around looking confused.
Jay and Jake were friendly, sure. But they weren’t yours. They weren’t part of your before. They didn’t know the town you came from or the versions of you that existed before now.
And even though you thought you’d settled in... even though you were coping...you were lonely.
Without meaning to, you started speaking out loud — just like you always did.
“It’s fine. You’ll do better tomorrow. Tomorrow you won’t feel as lonely,” you said softly as you misted the leaves. “You’ll be stronger. You’re gonna get used to this. You can do it.”
But the lie caught in your throat.
Because you were crying already.
You wiped your cheek with the sleeve of your hoodie, frustrated, betrayed by your own body. You reached for your phone without thinking and hit the contact you swore you wouldn’t keep calling every time you got overwhelmed.
Jungwon answered on the first ring.
“What’s up?” he asked, casual as ever.
“Won…” you breathed out.
There was a pause. Then: “Are you crying?”
“No?”
“I can hear you sniffling, you shit.”
“It’s just—” your voice cracked. “It’s hard. I’m alone all the time. I’ve got no friends. I’ve got no one to talk to. I’m alone, Won.”
“I know,” he said gently. “I know…”
There was a pause. You could hear him shifting in bed, his voice soft and serious now. “But think about it this way, okay? You’re barely in your first month. You’re gonna get used to it. You’re gonna find people. You’re gonna build something here. It just takes time.”
You bit your lip. “You’ll visit if you can, right?”
“I’ll visit,” he promised. “Even if it takes two bloody hours.”
“But you hate traveling.”
“For you, I’d suffer.”
You sniffled. “You’re just saying that so I’ll hang up.”
“You’re right because I’m exhausted from basketball. But also… I love you.”
“Fine,” you mumbled. “I love you too.”
“Chin up. You’re talented and you deserve to be there. You can do this. We’re all counting on you.”
“I know.” You exhaled slowly. “Goodnight, Wonnie.”
“Night.”
You ended the call and sat in silence for a moment, letting the cool night air settle on your skin. The tears had stopped. Your hands still smelled like mint and basil and the faint sweetness of the spray bottle. You stared at your succulents, wondering if they ever got lonely too.
Unbeknownst to you, just a few feet away, out on the connected balcony, hidden by the divider, someone had heard everything.
He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. He’d stepped out earlier, just needing air, needing quiet, needing to be somewhere still for once. And then he’d heard your voice. The words that were not meant for anyone else.
And for the first time, Sunghoon didn’t roll his eyes or make a sarcastic comment.
He just stood there in the dark, one hand gripping the railing, heart a little heavier than before.
He understood more than you thought.
And somewhere between your tears and Jungwon’s voice, he changed his mind about you.
-
The next few days, there was absolute silence. Maybe the food had finally worked some psychological warfare on Jay and Jake. Maybe it was their way of returning the favour. Either way, you weren’t about to question it.
You were grateful, to say the least.
Because for the past week, you’d been moping around your apartment. Living alone and striking out as an “independent bachelorette” sounded empowering in theory, but in practice? Maybe you weren’t one of those girlies after all…y’know the ones on Instagram who made solitude look like a season of self-discovery instead of a series of breakdowns.
It was Saturday. You’d spent the entire morning in bed watching a Netflix documentary about some guy swindling people on Tinder, surrounded by crumpled tissue and scented candle smoke that had long turned suffocating. You were still in yesterday’s hoodie, blanket tangled around your legs.
Three knocks echoed at the door.
You lifted your head from the pillow with a groan, barely alive. The sound came again.
Dragging yourself across the living room, you cracked the door open just a sliver, just wide enough to peek through but not enough to reveal the disaster that was your face, your hair, or your pride.
“Uh.” The voice was hesitant. Familiar.
You squinted.
Sunghoon.
You blinked. “What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice hoarse from crying and a full night of narrating your own spiral.
“There was a mix-up with the mail,” he said, holding up a small stack of envelopes.
“Oh.” You extended your arm awkwardly through the tiny gap in the door and grabbed the letters. “Thanks.”
There was a pause, “I can see your puffy eyes through the gap.”
You scoffed, immediately pulling the door closer. “You just have to be a smartass about everything, don’t you?”
He shrugged, completely unbothered, hands in the pockets of his hoodie. Still standing there.
“…Are Jake and Jay home?” you asked, trying to sound casual.
His expression twitched, almost amused. “Why? Trying to steal my best friends again or—”
“No,” you deadpanned. “I was just wondering. It’s been… quiet this whole week.”
“They went home to visit their families.”
Oh. Right. Come to think of it, maybe that explained why everything felt extra heavy lately. It was the time of year people usually went home. People surrounded themselves with comfort and familiarity. And here you were, stuck in the city because the train ticket home was just slightly out of budget.
“You didn’t go?” you asked softly.
“Can’t,” he shrugged.
“Oh.”
There was a beat of silence. Then he tilted his head.
“Well,” Sunghoon said slowly, “if you ever need someone to emotionally rejuvenate you by pointing out your hair looks like a rat’s nest, you know where to find me.”
The words came with the usual venom but the message behind them landed differently.
You stared at him through the gap in the door. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to be funny, or… sincere, in his own weird, backhanded way. It was strange. You’d only had three full conversations with the guy. And every single one ended in a WWE tournament.
You narrowed your eyes slightly. “Are you… being nice to me?”
He clicked his tongue. “Don’t ruin it.”
And with that, he turned and walked back.
-
You finally got up.
There was no movie-worthy breakthrough moment. Just the dull ache in your head from crying too much and the feeling that if you shed one more tear, your eyeballs might actually eject themselves from their sockets. So you moved. You stripped your bed, tossed the mountain of tissues into a trash bag, sprayed half a bottle of disinfectant in the air, and opened every window.
Your apartment looked like it had survived an apocalypse, which, to be fair, was accurate. But you scrubbed it back to life.
By the time you were in the kitchen, your eyes were still a little swollen, but you’d pressed them with cool spoons and a sad little compress until you could see straight again. Kind of.
You pulled out ingredients from your fridge one by one, lining them up like you were preparing for war. Slicing, boiling, julienning, stir-frying. The sound of the pan crackling beneath the glass noodles filled the silence of your apartment. It smelled exactly like it did when your mom used to make it.
You plated it in a wide, shallow bowl. It was delicious. Of course it was. You took pride in it. You always had. Jungwon used to tease you, calling your hands “blessed by Gordon Ramsay” like everything you touched turned into comfort food. You’d swat his arm, trying not to smile as he reached for second helpings before you’d even sat down.
You missed him. You missed your family. You missed not having to eat alone on a day like this.
Your eyes drifted to the door.
Would it be stupid? To bring food to Sunghoon? You’d never really done anything kind for him. Most of your interactions were lined with sarcasm and insults. And yet… that one line of his kept replaying in your head, “If you ever need someone to emotionally rejuvenate you by pointing out your hair looks like a rat’s nest, you know where to find me.”
So maybe…maybe he meant it. Or maybe you were just desperate for company and your noodles were starting to get cold.
Before you could talk yourself out of it, you packed the noodles into a clean container, wrapped a rubber band around it, and found yourself standing in front of 3C. Your feet had walked you here without permission. Your hand hovered in the air, ready to knock, but now… you hesitated. You weren’t here to complain. You weren’t here to yell. And that made it harder.
And just before your knuckles could land on the door, it swung open.
Sunghoon stood in front of you, coat already on, scarf looped lazily around his neck. There was a little shine to his hair like he’d styled it, and he looked surprised, mildly confused to find you on his doorstep without any anger evident in your eyes.
“What?” he said, voice dry.
You blinked, staring at him. You’d never really looked at him properly before. Not when he was this put-together. The gel in his hair, the sharp line of his jaw, the way his scarf sat slightly off-center like he’d thrown it on in a rush. You knew he was attractive. You weren’t blind. But seeing him now?
Sunghoon was actually… pretty handsome.
“I—uh—” you stammered.
His eyes narrowed slightly. “Spit it out.”
“I—uh—I made some… stir-fried glass noodles,” you said, stumbling over every syllable. “And I know how much it sucks being alone on a day like this, so I thought… maybe it’d bring you some kind of familiarity. From home, or something.”
You didn’t let yourself overthink it. You shoved the container into his hands, heart pounding.
“Bye,” you mumbled, before immediately turning around and marching back to your apartment like you’d just robbed a bank. The door clicked shut behind you.
You pressed your back to it, eyes wide.
Shit.
Was Sunghoon actually hot?
-
Sunghoon stood in the hallway, unmoving. The container in his hands was warm and he stared down at it for a couple of seconds longer than he probably should’ve.
Jake and Jay had been raving about your cooking for weeks. At first, he thought they were exaggerating. How good could someone’s food be that it made two of the loudest people he knew voluntarily whisper through a FIFA match?
But he’d seen it with his own eyes, Jake silently fist-pumping the air, mouthing “LET’S FUCKING GO” after a goal, and Jay barely reacting as he scored. They even created a rule: first one to speak puts a dollar in the Silence Jar. A literal jar. With money.
Sunghoon didn’t get it.
And he didn’t particularly care to. Not then.
But now, standing in the hallway in his coat and scarf, staring at the gift you shoved into his hands with flushed cheeks, something felt different.
He had been on his way out, actually. There was a bar nearby, nothing special, just a dim-lit spot with quiet music and decent food where no one bothered him. He usually went there whenever Jay and Jake went back home, like they did this time every year. It wasn’t that he didn’t have family—he did. It just wasn’t… warm. They were always busy. Always somewhere else, even when they were in the same room.
He peeled off his scarf, feet dragging a little as he headed back into the apartment, the door clicking shut behind him. He set the container on the kitchen counter, grabbed a pair of chopsticks from the drawer, and opened the lid.
Steam wafted up instantly, sesame oil, soy sauce, garlic, something subtly sweet he couldn’t name. The noodles glistened. They looked homemade. No, they felt homemade.
He picked up a strand and gave it a tentative taste.
His eyes widened before he could even help it.
It was good. Like stupid good. Like how the hell is this girl not running her own restaurant kind of good. Better than anything he would’ve paid for at that bar tonight.
He stood there in silence, chopsticks hovering mid-air, thinking back.
He wasn’t proud of how he’d treated you. Three encounters, three arguments. He remembered each one too clearly. The snark in his voice. The way your expression hardened. The notes on the door.
But it wasn’t really about you.
He hated being called out. Hated being the problem. Maybe it was ego, or maybe it was the way he’d always felt like he had to be put-together or to say the least…controlled. Your presence threw him off. You were loud in a way that was sincere. You didn’t filter your emotions. You wore your annoyance on your sleeve and your feelings on your face.
It irritated him. It also… made him feel something.
And then there was that night on the balcony.
He hadn’t meant to listen. But when he heard your voice cracking through the divider, talking to someone…maybe it was your boyfriend? Your best friend? Whoever it was about how lonely you were, it hit him harder than it should’ve.
Because he got it.
He felt it too.
Being alone in a crowd. Having people around but never really with you. That weight in your chest that didn’t come from sadness exactly…just the absence of warmth.
Sunghoon felt it more often than he cared to admit. He loved Jake and Jay, loved them to pieces. They were the kind of people who filled a room with noise and an energy he couldn’t really place and who made him laugh even when he didn’t want to.
He wanted something more. Something real.
Someone who just… saw him.
He sat at his kitchen counter, staring at the container of glass noodles still warm with steam curling from the lid. He wasn’t usually impulsive. He didn’t do gestures. But maybe tonight called for something a little uncharacteristic.
He stood and reached up, opening the top cupboard where Jake and Jay kept what they called their “emergency date plates.”. The kind of plates you used to impress someone. They only ever brought them out when trying to convince girls they were not, in fact, living in a borderline condemned apartment flat.
He grabbed two.
And then, before he could second guess it, he walked out into the hallway and knocked.
Your door creaked open a few seconds later.
You blinked at him, confused. “What?”
It almost felt like deja vu. Except now, he was you…awkward at the door.
And then it hit him.
He looked at you…like, really looked at you, and for the first time, he realised he’d never actually seen you before.
You were wearing a soft pink sleeveless dress, the fabric loose and falling just above your knees, cinched slightly at the waist. Your hair was tied into a side braid, fringe swept slightly to the side, with a few delicate strands left loose to frame your face. You looked like you belonged in a pastel painting.
Shit.
Were you actually—pretty?
Nope. Nope. Stop that. Sunghoon blinked hard, trying to erase the thought.
Damn it.
You probably had a boyfriend. Someone smart and warm and emotionally available who FaceTimed you every night and wrote you good morning texts. Someone who missed you from back home.
And besides…someone who could cook like you? You could probably bag Jake and Jay at the same time in under a minute if you wanted. Not that you would. But still.
He cleared his throat.
“I, uh…” He held up the plates slightly. “I thought maybe… you could join me?”
He wasn’t good at this. But his voice was steady.
“Only if you want to,” he added, quickly. “I just figured. Y’know. Glass noodles taste better on… plates that aren’t plastic.”
His eyes met yours.
He was trying.
And this time, it was your turn to blink in disbelief.
-
Sunghoon had returned with the container of glass noodles, now a little colder, a little stickier, but still giving off the faint aroma of sesame oil and soy sauce. You’d reheated it and plated it up, slightly embarrassed that the presentation wasn’t what it had been fresh off the stove, but he didn’t seem to care. Or maybe he did, but you couldn’t tell, because for the first five minutes, you didn’t look at each other.
The clink of chopsticks, the occasional scrape of ceramic, and your ceiling fan. It was awkward. You wondered why he even came. Why he asked in the first place, if he was just going to eat in silence.
“So,” you said.
“So,” he said.
You paused.
“You first.”
“No, you—”
“Okay, I’ll go first,” he said, cutting himself off. He cleared his throat and set his chopsticks down. “I—uh—I just wanted to say thanks. For the meal.”
You blinked. “Okay.” You nodded slowly. “You’re… shockingly formal when you’re not pissed.”
“I—” Sunghoon let out a breath and leaned back a little in the chair. “I was never pissed.”
“Mhm,” you hummed, nodding, eyes narrowed. “Sure.”
“I was annoyed, sure. Who likes being called out?”
“I wasn’t trying to call you out,” you said, tilting your head. “But put yourself in my shoes. I have to wake up at stupid o’clock to learn how to make a soufflé or whatever, and meanwhile, I’m treated to surround sound yelling and the occasional ceiling vibration.”
He gave a small shrug. “Well, we haven’t done it in a while.”
“And I’m grateful,” you replied, lips twitching. “Truly.”
“We got a silence jar and everything,” he muttered, almost like he didn’t want to admit it.
Your eyebrows shot up. “A silence jar?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Jay implemented it. He said if we keep it up, we’ll have enough for extra toppings on our next pizza night.”
You burst into laughter, the sound surprising even yourself. It came out light and real, and you covered your mouth halfway through. “That’s… honestly? A decent plan.”
“It can be,” he said with a grin starting to pull at the corner of his mouth. “Until everyone starts trying to play FIFA like it’s an ASMR video.”
“You guys actually whisper?” you asked, incredulous.
“Well, yeah. You told us to.”
“I didn’t think you would listen,” you said, pointing your chopsticks at him.
Sunghoon shrugged again, his eyes dropping to the plate in front of him. “Well… they changed my mind, so.”
He didn’t say what he was really thinking.
That it wasn’t Jake or Jay who changed his mind. It was that night. The way your voice had carried through the gap in the balcony, fragile and cracking. The way you’d said I’m alone, Won like it was something that had been sitting inside you for too long, waiting to spill. He’d realised then maybe he wasn’t just an annoying neighbour to you. Maybe he was part of the problem. Maybe he’d been making things harder for someone who was already trying to hold it all together.
“So…” he said quietly, eyes on his plate, “why are you alone during the holidays anyway?”
“Couldn’t afford a train ticket,” you said eventually. “I mean—I could have, technically. But that’d mean I wouldn’t have enough money left to buy ingredients for my assignments the next few weeks.”
Sunghoon winced. “Oof. That’s rough. Must suck.”
You gave a little shrug. “Yeah. It’s fine though.”
He knew it wasn’t.
There was a pause. He glanced sideways at you.
“If you ever… feel like you need someone to talk to,” he started, voice casual, “you could just knock. I have FIFA.”
You snorted. “Oh, like I’d willingly join that mess.”
“It’s actually really fun.”
“How fun can flinging a ball across a screen with your thumbs be?”
“It is!” he defended, turning fully toward you.
You raised a brow. “I tried once with my friend and it was so boring.”
“That’s ‘cause you weren’t playing it right,” he insisted, already standing up. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
“I’m not playing FIFA with you.”
“Come onnn,” he whined, grabbing your wrist and tugging you lightly toward his door.
“God, this is gonna be so stupid,” you muttered, dragging your feet even as you followed him out.
Inside his apartment, the lights were warm, the couch sunken in like it had been through a war. You sat reluctantly, tucking your knees up as he handed you the controller.
“Alright,” he said, sliding in beside you. “This is you—Team Two. All you have to do is use the left joystick to move, the right one to look around. This button to pass, this one to shoot.”
You blinked. “So many buttons.”
“It’s easy! Just follow what I say.”
“Okay… so now I just—?” You pressed a button and immediately kicked the ball out of bounds.
“No, no—move left. Left.”
“I am moving left!”
He glanced over. Your tongue was sticking out slightly in concentration, eyes squinted, brows furrowed. He chuckled before he could stop himself, quickly looking away.
Then you screamed, “I DID IT! DID I DO IT?!”
He turned back just in time to see you score.
Sunghoon yelled, jumping up. “Yeah! That was it!”
You stared at the screen, jaw dropping. “Holy shit. I’m amazing.”
He looked at you again, this time longer. Your eyes were glowing, still locked on the TV. Your fingers tapped at the buttons like you already got it down. You bit your lip when you were focused, tongue sticking out just slightly when you were thinking.
And you were cute. So fucking cute.
The match picked up pace. Suddenly it was 2–2, and both of you were leaning in like your lives depended on it. You were yelling at the controller. He was shouting advice. At one point, your knees knocked, but neither of you noticed. The room was loud, just your voices and the music from the game and the way your laughter filled every corner of his flat.
Then it happened.
You scored.
You screamed, controller tossed onto the couch, and before Sunghoon could register what was happening, your arms were around his neck, squeezing him tight as you jumped slightly in place.
“I WON! DID YOU SEE THAT?!”
He froze. Your cheek brushed his jaw, your warmth right up against him. His hands hovered midair like he didn’t know whether to hold you back or not.
And then you let go, plopped back onto the couch, and grabbed the controller again like nothing had happened.
Sunghoon didn’t move.
For the first time in what felt like forever, his heartbeat stuttered. Sped up like it had been woken from a long, indifferent sleep.
He sat there, silent, staring at you as you shouted at your pixelated team.
And all he could think was well that…he hadn’t planned on crushing on the new girl based on one single positive interaction.
God, he was so screwed.
-
The next few days passed in a blur of almost-conversations.
You and Sunghoon didn’t talk much. Not like that night. Just a few polite waves across the hallway, a quiet “hey” if you caught the elevator at the same time. Respectful nods. The occasional awkward glance if your eyes met for too long.
And then Jake and Jay came back.
And of course, Jake being Jake, invited himself into your apartment before you could even say no.
“I missed your cooking while I was gone,” he sighed dramatically, sinking into the dining chair like he’d returned from war.
“Well, today’s your lucky day,” you said, flipping through your assignment folder and squinting at the week’s task. “Because for today’s assignment, I’m supposed to…” you paused. “Make a really mean chicken pot pie.”
Jake’s eyes lit up. He clapped his hands, nearly tipping his chair over. “CHICKEN POT PIE?!”
Before you could even blink, he leapt up, yanked your door open, and sprinted into the hallway.
“JAY! IT’S CHICKEN POT PIE!” he yelled like it was a fire drill.
From across the hall, Jay’s voice rang out. “WHAT?! NO WAY!”
And then—another voice joined them.
A quieter one.
“Chicken pot pie?”
You didn’t even have time to react before you were suddenly hosting three grown men in your kitchen, all leaning over your counter.
“Guys,” you said, elbow-deep in flour. “I can’t focus if you’re all staring at me like that.”
“We’re just excited,” Jake grinned, chin in his hands.
“Well don’t be. I’ve never made this before. It might taste like ass.”
“Your hands are basically blessed by Gordon Ramsay,” Jay declared, grabbing a slice of carrot from the cutting board. “It’s impossible for it to taste like ass.”
You laughed, the sound soft and unexpected even to yourself. “Jungwon used to tell me that all the time.”
“Oh he did?” Jay echoed, voice teasing.
Sunghoon stood a few steps back from the others, arms crossed loosely, leaning against your fridge. He hadn’t said much since stepping into your place, but now he watched the three of you.
The way you smiled when Jay made a joke. The way Jake knew where you kept your mixing bowls. The way your eyes sparkled, just slightly, when you laughed about something from home. The way they got it. The way they knew you.
And the way he didn’t.
Sunghoon couldn’t explain it but it made his stomach twist. Tight and strange and uncomfortable.
And then he heard it again.
Jungwon.
Who the hell was Jungwon?
His name sounded too casual. Too affectionate. The kind of name you didn’t just drop without meaning.
Sunghoon didn’t say anything. He just looked down at your countertop, at the flour dusting your hands and the delicate way your fingers shaped the crust, and all he could think was—
Why the fuck did he care so much?
You moved around your kitchen with the kind of ease that made it impossible not to watch. Sunghoon’s eyes were locked on you, the way your hair swayed behind your back as you leaned forward to stir something in the pot, the way your sleeves were pushed up.
His heart pounded harder than it should’ve. He tried to brush it off. Maybe he was just hungry. Maybe it was just the smell of garlic and butter making him lightheaded. That had to be it, right?
Except no.
He hadn’t planned on feeling like this today. Not when he woke up. Not when he brushed his teeth and went on his phone and told himself he’d stay in his apartment. He hadn’t even planned on coming over. And that night the two of you shared noodles? He’d chalked it up to vulnerability. Nighttime feelings. Nothing serious.
But now it was noon. He was awake. Sober. And you were still somehow making his chest tighten just by existing within ten feet of him.
God. He hated having a crush.
He didn’t even realise how lost he looked until Jake spoke up from the side, breaking the spell.
“So, is Jungwon finally coming?”
This guy again.
Sunghoon’s head whipped toward Jake so fast it might’ve snapped his neck.
You perked up at the mention, a smile blooming across your face without even trying. “Yeah! He’s coming in two weeks! I actually told him about you guys. He’s kinda excited to meet you.”
That smile. It wasn’t fake. It wasn’t forced. You looked like someone who meant it. Someone who missed this guy. Someone who talked to him often.
Sunghoon clenched his jaw and looked away, grabbing a water bottle off your counter just to do something with his hands. He twisted the cap a little too hard.
He didn’t know who the hell Jungwon was.
But he already didn’t like him.
“He’s coming over?” Jay asked, his mouth still half-full of pie filling.
“Yeah,” you said casually, brushing a stray hair behind your ear as you peeked into the oven. “He’s staying at my place for the week he’s here.”
Staying at your place?
Sunghoon blinked.
He looked around your apartment, eyes scanning every corner like they were going to magically reveal a hidden guest room. But there wasn’t one. You lived in a studio. Everything was in one space. Your bed, your desk, your kitchen, your couch. Except… there wasn’t even a real couch. Just a throw-covered loveseat that barely seated two.
No air mattress in sight. No hidden folding cot. No suspicious lumpy bags that might hold a spare futon.
Just one bed.
His chest tightened.
Where the hell was Jungwon gonna sleep? With you?
He picked at the label on his water bottle, teeth grinding quietly as he stared down at the floor, like it held answers. It didn’t.
He wasn’t even involved with you. This shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t bother him.
But it did. In the most uncomfortable, teeth-clenching, mind-racing kind of way.
-
You stood in front of the three boys, arms crossed, heart racing slightly under your apron. The chicken pot pie sat on the table…golden brown crust, just the right amount of bubbling over on the sides, the smell of thyme and butter and garlic filling your apartment.
Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon each took a spoonful at the same time like they’d rehearsed it. You watched them, nervous, scanning their faces.
One by one, their expressions lit up. Jake’s eyes widened, Jay let out a satisfied groan. Well… except Sunghoon. Of course.
He stayed still. Always unreadable. But you caught it. The tiny pause, the way his brows lifted just a fraction. He liked it. He just didn’t show it like the others.
“So—” Jake started.
“Good,” Jay finished, already reaching for more.
Your eyes flicked to Sunghoon. Somehow, his opinion was the one you were waiting on. The one you needed.
“So?” you asked, staring at him.
He blinked. “What?”
“How is it?”
“It’s good,” he said, nodding once, tone flat as ever.
Your smile dropped. You frowned. “Doesn’t seem like it.”
“What? I just said it’s good.”
“No, you said ‘good’ and then frowned and put your spoon down. Usually it’s ‘It’s good,’ then a second bite. Right, boys?”
Jake nodded enthusiastically, chicken still in his mouth. “She’s right.”
“Totally right,” Jay added, already helping himself to more.
Sunghoon rolled his eyes, leaning back slightly. “You’re all being dramatic.”
You scoffed, insulted. “I guess you don’t want seconds then. Tch.”
You clicked your tongue and turned on your heel, storming off toward the kitchen, grumbling under your breath. Your apron fluttered behind you as you moved, and you didn’t look back.
Sunghoon watched your little pout, the way your shoulders stiffened, how you exaggerated every step. He didn’t know why, but he liked your reaction. No, he loved it. He found it ridiculously cute. Too cute, actually. That slight wrinkle in your forehead. The way your voice got higher when you were mad. The tiny stomp in your step.
The moment your back turned, his lips twitched upward.
When lunch ended and the three of them stood by your front door, Jake and Jay turned to hug you dramatically.
“Never move out,” Jake said into your shoulder.
You rolled your eyes. “You’re just saying that because you get free food.”
“And precisely why we don’t want you to move out,” Jay replied, squeezing you once more before the two of them shuffled out, bickering as they made their way into their apartment across the hall.
Sunghoon lingered. Just behind you.
You turned, raising a brow. “Aren’t you leaving?”
He nodded. “Yeah.” He stepped back slowly, hands in his pockets, gaze flicking to the floor before settling back on you. Then he paused. Like he wasn’t sure if he should say what he was about to say.
“The chicken pot pie was good. I think…” he exhaled, voice quieter, “I think it was one of the best things I’ve ever had.”
You blinked, caught off guard.
“It reminded me of home,” he added, eyes still on you now, a little softer than usual. “Not in the way where it’s about the taste or anything… it’s just… you cook like home. If that makes any sense.”
You hadn’t expected that.
Your cheeks flushed immediately. You turned away before he could see it, pretending to fiddle with a dish on the counter, fingers uselessly adjusting an already-clean plate.
“Thank you,” you murmured, voice low, almost shy.
He lingered for a second longer like he wanted to say more. Then he gave a quiet nod and walked out the door.
-
It was raining.
It was only 4 p.m., but the sky had turned an eerie charcoal grey, clouds rolling thick above the city. Thunder cracked so loud you felt it in your chest, and the wind howled between the buildings, slamming against your windows.
You hated this.
You hated how much you still feared storms even at your age. How useless independence felt when you were stuffing tissues in your ears and jamming earmuffs over your head like you were five again. You turned on every single light in your apartment, lamps, fairy lights, even your microwave light and cocooned yourself under your thickest blanket, barely breathing, eyes wide.
Then the whole building shuddered.
The lights flickered.
And then everything went dark.
You screamed.
Your apartment disappeared into a blanket of pitch black, shadows curling up the walls like ink. Your heart pounded. You scrambled up from the couch, tearing off your earmuffs and patting the walls with shaky hands, trying to find a light switch like that would fix anything.
“Shit,” you whispered, voice trembling. “Shit shit shit.”
You fumbled for your phone. A message popped up from your landlord.
“The building is experiencing a temporary blackout due to the storm. Electricity should resume in an hour. Thank you for your patience.”
An hour? Alone? In this? In the dark? Absolutely fucking not.
You jumped at another violent crack of thunder and instantly rushed out into the hallway. Your blanket trailed behind you like a cape. You beelined for the only door you knew.
You knocked. The door swung open almost immediately.
“No time to explain but I’m shitting bricks here,” you said all at once.
It wasn’t Jake or Jay.
It was Sunghoon.
His brows raised. “The thunderstorm?”
You nodded frantically. “Are Jake or Jay here?”
“They’re asleep.” He glanced behind him, then back at you. “But I could… stay with you. If you want. Until it passes.”
You hesitated.
Then thunder cracked again, louder this time, right above your building.
You flinched. “Okay,” you breathed, defeated.
The two of you sat cross-legged on your couch, sharing a single candle as your only source of light. It flickered between you, casting long, warm shadows on the walls.
“Seems like you’re scared of the thunder,” he said gently.
“Well,” you sighed, voice tight. “I’ve been scared of it since I was younger. It just… gets to me.”
He nodded. “It’s okay.”
You noticed it then…the subtle tremble in his shoulders. He was shivering. From the cold, probably. Your heater wasn’t working without electricity, and the apartment was steadily turning into a fridge. You were wrapped up like a burrito, but he’d come in without anything but a hoodie.
Feeling guilty, you shifted toward him and lifted one side of your blanket.
“Uh…” he looked at you like he wasn’t sure if he was being pranked.
“Relax. I can see you shivering like a dog,” you muttered.
“Oh.” He blinked, then grabbed the other end of the blanket and scooted in beside you.
Now under the same blanket, his body heat pressed faintly against yours. You sat side by side, knees pulled to your chests.
And then, in a whisper, he said, “You know…”
You looked over at him, startled by the sudden softness in his voice.
“I know I’m not as close to you as Jay and Jake are,” he said, eyes trained on the candle, “but… you don’t always have to find them for help.”
You blinked. “Huh?”
“I’m saying…” he sighed, eyes flicking up toward you, and then away again. “Never mind.”
“No, what? Just spit it out.”
He exhaled through his nose like it physically hurt to get the words out. “I’m just saying… you could ask me for help too.”
You stared at him, your eyes adjusting to the candlelight flickering between you.
“Oh,” you said softly.
There was a beat of silence. You weren’t really sure what to do with that. But you didn’t want to leave it hanging either.
“I’ll be sure to think of you the next time,” you mumbled, barely louder than the rain still pelting the windows outside.
You felt him nod beside you.
You turned your head slowly, resting your cheek against your knees, eyes drifting toward him. His face was tilted down, lashes long and dark as they blinked now and then, just slow enough for you to notice. His jaw had softened a little. He looked calm, in a way you weren’t used to seeing him.
“Would you rather have a million dollars,” you said suddenly, “or have no problems in the world?”
He blinked, confused for a second, then turned his head toward you. His chin was on his knees now too, and with the two of you curled up in the same blanket, inches apart, it felt almost like whispering under covers at a sleepover.
“What kind of question is that?”
“A good one,” you replied, lips twitching. “So answer it.”
He scoffed a little under his breath. “Uh… maybe no problems in the world?”
“Smart answer. Why?”
He paused, “I think people ruin themselves trying to solve problems that shouldn’t be theirs. If I had no problems, maybe I wouldn’t waste time worrying about all the stuff that doesn’t matter.”
You blinked at him. That was… not the answer you were expecting. It was a good one. Way too good, actually.
“Right,” you said softly, giving him a small nod.
He looked at you for a second longer before his eyes flicked down. “Your turn. Would you rather go back in time or go into the future?”
You puffed your cheeks out, thinking. “Hmm… that’s a toughie.”
Then your eyes widened, the way they always did when you had a lightbulb moment. “Go back in time!”
“Why’s that?”
“So maybe I’d really weigh the pros and cons of moving to a city where I know no one,” you said with a grin, but it faded slightly at the end.
Sunghoon stayed quiet.
“You must really feel alone,” he said.
You blinked, startled. “What?”
“I hear you talking about it sometimes. On your balcony. When you think no one’s listening. You talk about how moving here feels like a mistake.”
You looked away, embarrassed. “It’s not a mistake. I just… miss everything back home.”
“I get it,” he said after a second. “I was like you. Back when I was home, I wanted to leave so badly. Thought being somewhere else would fix everything. But now that I’m here… yeah, I have Jay and Jake, and they’re great, but sometimes I come back to the apartment and everything’s fine and normal and still—I just feel… empty. And I don’t even know why.”
You didn’t say anything for a long time.
You just watched him. His face had turned thoughtful, distant. His eyes unfocused, drifting somewhere past the flickering candle, past your walls, like he was staring right through the quiet that lived in his chest.
You mumbled, “Well, yeah. But… I also don’t regret it. Not one bit.”
“Really?”
You nodded. “Yeah. I mean—I’m here doing what I love. Not many people get to do that. And I made friends with three incredibly annoying people in this building.”
He turned toward you again, eyes narrowing playfully. “So we’re friends now?”
Your cheeks heated up instantly. You glanced away, pretending to roll your eyes. “Are we not?”
He let out a low chuckle, the kind that rumbled softly at the back of his throat. “I’m glad you think we are.”
“So,” you said, tilting your head, “does this mean you’ll finally be nice to me now? Or is that too much character development for one night?”
Sunghoon smirked, eyes flicking to you with a teasing glint. “You want nice? From me?”
“Yeah. Like a full sentence without sarcasm. I feel like that’s a reward I’ve earned by now.”
“You earned a participation medal at best.”
You laughed, nudging him with your knee. “Unbelievable.”
He was already looking at you again—closer this time.
“Hold on,” he said softly, “you have an eyelash on your cheek.”
You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”
Before you could move, he leaned in.
His face hovered inches from yours as his thumb brushed gently against your cheek, his touch soft but sure. The pads of his fingers were warm. His eyes, now impossibly close, scanned your face with a kind of quiet focus you hadn’t felt from him before. You swallowed.
Neither of you moved.
Your gaze locked, and the space between you slowly disappeared…inch by inch, breath by breath. It wasn’t planned. It just… happened.
Then suddenly, his lips were on yours.
Then it deepened. His other hand pushed the blanket off his head, dropping behind your neck to pull you in, and your hands found their way to his thighs, then to the curve of his jaw. His lips parted just enough, and your pulse jumped as he moved against you.
His hands slid to your waist. He lifted you slightly and shifted you into his lap in one smooth motion. You were now straddling him, knees on either side of his thighs, and he didn’t stop kissing you, not even for a second.
The kiss grew stronger. He tilted his head, hand moving to your chin to pull you even closer, his mouth parting yours with a low inhale as his tongue brushed against yours.
Your hands moved back down, gripping at the soft cotton of his hoodie, when—
Click.
The lights flickered on.
You both froze.
Your faces were still inches apart.
You slowly pulled back, still on his lap. He blinked, eyes searching yours like he wasn’t sure what just happened. Like part of him wanted to keep going, and the other part… couldn’t believe you just kissed him like that.
You stared at each other, the silence heavy now.
His hands were still resting lightly on your waist. Yours were still fisted in the fabric of his hoodie. Both of you breathless.
“I need to go back home,” Sunghoon said suddenly, voice low but rushed. His eyes darted everywhere except at you.
You blinked. “Right. Of course!” you said quickly, nodding way too fast. “Yeah. No—totally.”
He shifted awkwardly underneath you, face flushing as he cleared his throat and muttered, “Probably… need a pillow or something.”
It took you a second.
Then you saw the way he was subtly covering his lap with the edge of the blanket.
“Oh.” Your voice came out small. You quickly scrambled off his lap, cheeks burning so hot they could’ve powered your apartment during the blackout.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, already halfway to your door.
And then, Sunghoon stormed out of your apartment.
-
It had been a couple of days since you last properly spoke to Sunghoon. Not for lack of trying. You had…more than once. But each time, he’d give you a quick nod, maybe a polite smile if you were lucky, before promptly power-walking away.
Maybe he just wasn’t feeling what you were feeling. Maybe that kiss was a fluke, something in the heat of the moment. Maybe your little new crush was painfully one-sided.
But you pushed it aside. You had bigger things to focus on.
Jungwon was coming today.
You’d spent the entire morning rearranging your apartment, cleaning it from top to bottom, fluffing cushions and spraying perfume not just on yourself but into the air like it could somehow mask how nervous you were. You even did your hair the way he liked it, soft curls and a side part.
And then, there he was.
The door swung open and your best friend stood in the hallway, suitcase in hand and a grin already on his face.
“WON!” you squealed, running up to him and leaping into his arms.
“Hello, idiot,” he said, his voice fond as he hugged you back, lifting you off the ground with ease.
The shout must’ve startled the boys in 3C, because right on cue, the door across the hall creaked open and out came Jake and Jay, both peeking out.
They spotted you clinging to Jungwon like a koala.
You beamed. “Guys! It’s him!”
“The famous Jungwon,” Jay said, nodding in approval as he stepped out.
“And you must be Jake and Jay,” Jungwon said smoothly, setting you down.
Then came the third.
Sunghoon.
He didn’t move from the doorway. Just stood there, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
Jungwon turned to him, a friendly smile still on his lips, chuckling. “You must be Sunghoon, then.”
Sunghoon’s gaze narrowed slightly. “What’s so funny?”
Jungwon blinked, caught off guard. “Nothing,” he said, clearing his throat. “She just… told me you were like this.”
“Like what?” Sunghoon asked sharply, the scoff nearly audible in his tone.
Jungwon scratched the back of his neck. “Nothing. She just said you were cool,” he said with a shrug, throwing you a teasing look.
Sunghoon rolled his eyes.
You stood there, suddenly awkward, unsure what the hell had crawled up Sunghoon’s ass. The hostility was as thick as the tension in the air and you hadn’t done anything. Not really.
At least you didn’t think you had.
Just stood there, arms crossed, a stiff expression on his face while Jake and Jay welcomed Jungwon like he was already part of the group. Jungwon, ever the social butterfly, fit in easily, throwing a few jokes around, complimenting the apartment despite its questionable decor, and even teasing Jake about the ugly dinosaur pyjamas he was wearing in broad daylight.
But Sunghoon?
He was frowning the entire time.
You couldn’t figure it out. His jaw was tight, his responses were clipped, and every time Jungwon so much as glanced your way, you saw Sunghoon’s eye twitch.
You walked back to your apartment with Jungwon beside you, chatting excitedly about dinner plans and all the places he wanted to visit during his stay. But when you turned back, just for a second, you caught Sunghoon still watching. Still standing in the hallway.
His arms were still crossed.
And he didn’t look away.
-
Sunghoon stood there, arms folded across his chest like they were the only things keeping him together. He stared ahead blankly, jaw tight, doing everything in his power not to glare a hole through the wall. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling.
Sure, he knew he had a crush on you. He’d known since the chicken pot pie, probably. Or maybe since you wrapped that blanket around his shoulders. Or maybe long before that. But what he didn’t know was who the fuck Jungwon was, and why he was walking into your apartment.
“Dude,” Jake muttered, throwing him a sideways look. “You could’ve at least smiled.”
“I did,” Sunghoon growled, not bothering to hide his scowl.
Jay snorted. “That was barely a smile. You looked like you were in the middle of passing a kidney stone.”
“Why do I even have to be nice?” Sunghoon snapped. “I don’t know him.”
“Because your crush’s boyfriend just came into town,” Jake replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Sunghoon's head snapped to him so fast you’d think he got whiplash. “Boyfriend?”
Jay raised a brow. “Not denying the crush though.”
Sunghoon ignored him. “Let me ask you again. Boyfriend?”
Jake shrugged. “I mean… yeah, I guess?”
“What the fuck do you mean you guess?” Sunghoon hissed, dragging a hand down his face. “He can’t be her boyfriend.”
“But he is,” Jay said with a shrug and an infuriatingly smug smile.
“No, he’s not. He can’t be. Because she and I…” he paused, realising too late what was about to fall out of his mouth. “…kissed. Three nights ago.”
Jake’s mouth dropped open. Jay blinked.
“I’m sorry, what?” Jake finally blurted.
“Nothing,” Sunghoon muttered quickly, suddenly desperate to eat his words.
“You can’t say nothing when you just said everything!” Jake shouted, grabbing Sunghoon’s shoulders and shaking him.
“Tell us right now!” Jay begged dramatically, gripping his own hair.
Sunghoon rolled his eyes, flustered. “I—we—kissed. That’s it.”
Jay blinked. “You know we were kidding about the boyfriend thing, right?”
Jake grinned. “Jungwon’s just her best friend.”
“We just wanted to see if you’d admit you liked her,” Jay added, eyes sparkling with way too much joy. “Which you did.”
“No, I didn’t,” Sunghoon argued weakly. “I just said we kissed.”
“Okay, Mr Visceral Reaction every time we mention Jungwon,” Jake teased.
Jay smirked. “Say it. Say you like her.”
Sunghoon groaned, eyes shut tight as if the ceiling could swallow him whole. Then, finally—quietly, begrudgingly—
“Okay. So what if I like her?”
Jay and Jake immediately turned to each other with identical gasps, smacking each other’s arms excitedly.
“Oh my god, he admitted it,” Jay whispered dramatically.
Jake clutched his chest. “It’s happening.”
“You guys are disgusting,” Sunghoon groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And if you keep acting like this, I’m never telling you anything again.”
“Okay, okay.” Jake raised both hands, trying to suppress a grin. “We’ll behave.”
“BUT I’M SO EXCITED,” Jay squealed.
Jake smacked him on the shoulder. “Starting now.”
Jay nodded solemnly, rubbing his arm. “Sorry. That one slipped.”
Sunghoon sighed and leaned against the counter, arms crossed again. “I started liking her last month… when you guys went back home for the week. She cooked me stir-fried noodles, and we ate together. Played FIFA. I don’t know. I just… developed a crush on her.”
“That’s so cute,” Jay and Jake said in unison, stars in their eyes.
“Seriously, can the two of you act normal for like three minutes?”
Jake shrugged, still smiling. “I just didn’t expect you to have a girlfriend before me.”
Jay patted his shoulder. “You’ll get there, buddy.”
Jake tilted his head. “You think?”
“Yeah, you have nice eyes. Great personality.”
Jake beamed. “That’s so kind.”
“Can we please get back to my problem for like a minute?” Sunghoon cut in, glaring at both of them.
“Oh. Right.”
Jay cleared his throat and finally looked serious. “Look. We like her. She’s hilarious, and she makes good fucking food. And let’s be real, you’ve never liked anyone. We’ve been trying to get you to double date with us for years and you just stare at your phone all the time. But with her? You’re like... a guy with actual feelings.”
“But now I’m losing to Jung… whatever his name is.” Sunghoon sighed.
“Jungwon,” Jake said. “And no, you’re not.”
“How do you know she doesn’t like him?” Sunghoon muttered, staring down at the floor.
“Because,” Jay said, “if she did, she wouldn’t have kissed you.”
“Unless she’s indecisive or confused or something. I don’t know.” Sunghoon exhaled hard, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe I was just… a moment. And he’s her person.”
Jake shook his head. “I’m telling you—just talk to her.”
“Yeah,” Jay added. “Before you spiral even harder and start writing love songs about her. But if you do, I haved like a couple of guitars you could borrow.”
Sunghoon rolled his eyes. But somewhere, deep down… a part of him hoped they were right.
-
You were pacing back and forth on your cheap IKEA rug, while Jungwon was laid out dramatically on your bed, arms folded behind his head, thoroughly enjoying the show.
“I’m telling you, he’s avoiding me,” you snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at no one in particular. “We kissed—KISSED, Jungwon—and now he won’t even look at me! I wave, he nods. I say hi, he nods. I breathe in his direction, he—guess what—nods!”
Jungwon hummed, annoyingly calm. “Maybe he’s nervous. Or maybe he wants you to go to him.”
“I do go to him! And then he speed-walks away like I’m the plague!” You groaned, pressing your fingers to your temples. “I’m gonna lose it.”
“Maybe…” he tapped his chin thoughtfully, “you’re just a shit kisser.”
You whipped around and chucked a throw pillow directly at his smug face.
“Asshole.”
He caught it with a grin, clutching it to his chest dramatically. “I’m just saying. Maybe you scared him off.”
“You’re lucky I haven’t strangled you with this blanket,” you muttered, grabbing another pillow just in case.
Jungwon sat up, brushing imaginary dust off his shirt. “You know, sometimes I forget we grew up together because you’re so unpredictable now.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He snorted. “You used to be fearless. Remember that Heeseung guy you had a crush on in middle school?”
You blinked. “What about him?”
“You were six, and you walked up to him at recess, said ‘I like your lunchbox,’ then kissed his cheek and ran off.”
“Ah,” you said flatly, “the good old days. That girl’s dead now.”
“She’s not dead,” Jungwon argued, grabbing your wrists and tugging you to sit beside him on the bed. “She’s just… overthinking everything. Look, if Sunghoon doesn’t like you—whatever. But if he does? You’re missing out just because you’re too chicken to tell him.”
You glared. “I hate it when you make sense.”
“I know.” He grinned. “It’s my worst trait.”
“I just—” you exhaled, flopping back beside him. “What if it ruins everything? We literally just got closer. What if I say something and it all goes to shit?”
“Okay, counter-offer.” He sat up straighter. “You tell him, or I will. I will walk down the hallway, knock on his door, and go ‘Hi, my best friend has feelings for you, she also has performance anxiety but can cook a great bowl of chicken noodle soup.’”
“You wouldn’t,” you hissed, swatting at his arm.
“Then do it yourself!” he laughed, dodging your attacks. “Before I start printing flyers and pasting them in the apartment lobby.”
God. Why did he always have to be right?
“Fine.”
Your hand was already on the doorknob, breath caught in your throat, just about to leave when the door across from yours had swung open at the exact same time.
And there he was.
Sunghoon.
You both froze, hands still gripping the doorknobs, blinking.
You cleared your throat first. “Sunghoon.”
He blinked like he hadn’t already been staring. “What?”
You squinted. “Is that the only word you know how to say when I call your name?”
He paused. “Sorry.”
You opened your mouth to say something else but were rudely interrupted by muffled snorts from behind Sunghoon. Jay and Jake’s heads popped out from their doorway like nosy meerkats.
“Hoon,” Jay said in a loud, exaggerated voice, “we need more eggs.”
“Desperately,” Jake added, nodding like this was a national emergency. “Go to the store.”
Then Jungwon peeked out from behind you with an equally suspicious grin. “Oh, and while you’re there, can you grab some ice cream too?”
You and Sunghoon looked at each other.
“What is happening right now,” you said flatly.
Before either of you could respond, four hands shoved the both of you toward the elevator. You stumbled in, the doors sliding shut just as Jay yelled out, “Don’t come back without snacks!”
The elevator stopped at your floor.
Your shoulders brushed as you stood side by side, awkwardly watching the floor numbers light up.
Then, finally, you broke it. “About that day—”
Sunghoon shook his head quickly. “Don’t worry about it. I won’t tell Jungwon.”
You blinked. “What do you mean you won’t tell Jungwon?”
He looked away. “Well, aren’t you like… crushing on him? I wouldn’t want what we did to, you know… ruin your chances or something.”
Your entire face scrunched up. “Won and I? What? Ew. God, no. We’re friends. We grew up together. Thinking about him that way would be like incest or something.”
And just like that, Sunghoon felt like he’d been hit by a shooting star and given a second chance at life. His heart did a full backflip. You were single. You were available.
He couldn’t help it. He smiled.
“Why do you suddenly look so happy?” you asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
“I’m not.”
“You’re literally smiling.”
“I’m not.”
“We’ve hung out a couple of times and if I’m being honest, I’ve never seen you smile this—”
“Cut it out.” He tried to brush it off, biting back the grin. “I’m just glad.”
“Glad about?”
“Glad that I didn’t ruin your chances,” he said nonchalantly, looking up like he hadn’t just panicked thirty seconds ago.
“Mhm.” You narrowed your eyes at him, the golden-orange glow of the sunset casting warmth across his cheekbones. He was handsome. Frustratingly so. “Well… because I actually like this other guy.”
Sunghoon’s smile faltered.
“I haven’t known him that long,” you continued casually, “but he seems cool. I don’t really know much about him yet.”
“That’s… nice.” Sunghoon turned away quickly, jaw tight. He was definitely grimacing. Please don’t let her see that I’m grimacing, he begged internally.
“Yeah, he’s really tall. Really handsome, too.”
“That’s just…” he exhaled. “Great.”
“He doesn’t seem super friendly but he has a big heart. Even if he tries really hard not to show it.”
“Seems like a swell fuckin’ guy,” he muttered bitterly.
“It’s a pity though,” you sighed dramatically, still watching him. “I wish I could get to know him better.”
“Well… anyone’s lucky to get to know you.” He tried to smile. It didn’t reach his eyes. “I know I am.”
You tilted your head. “Not to mention… he lives really close to me.”
Sunghoon’s eyes darted to you. “He does?”
“Mhm.” You nodded, heartbeat accelerating.
“Like how close?”
You took a slow step toward him. “Like… just across the hall close.”
“Oh.” He blinked. “That close.”
Silence settled in the small elevator. You both just stood there, not looking at each other, tension hanging in the air like humidity.
Then, out of nowhere—
“I’m just saying,” Sunghoon said, dead serious, “but Jake sleeps with the lights on and Jay doesn’t wash his hair as often as you think he does.”
You blinked. “Huh?”
“I sleep normal,” he added quickly. “I wash my hair. I do proper haircare—shampoo, conditioner, mask, mist. I could do your routine too. For you. If you want.”
You stared.
“I can’t cook, but I’ll try. I can figure skate. I can spin twice in the air. Jay and Jake? Not even one spin. Jay can play guitar, Jake can sing but I can spin, okay? Without getting dizzy too.”
“Sunghoon.”
“And those idiots never clean up after eating your food. Jay doesn’t use coasters. Jake never makes his bed.”
“SUNGHOON!”
He looked at you, breathless. “What?”
You stepped forward. Slowly. Then, you mumbled, “It’s you.”
He blinked. “What?”
“I like you.”
And for once, Park Sunghoon had absolutely nothing to say.
“Okay,” he said. “Cool. Okay. I—wow. Okay.”
You raised a brow. “That’s it?”
He nodded dumbly. “No. Yes. I don’t know. I just—holy shit. You like me.”
You smirked, the smile slowly stretching across your face. “Yes. I like you.”
The elevator dinged. Neither of you moved.
He looked at you again, still dazed. “Hold on, I kinda need a minute.”
You both stepped out into the empty lobby. The sun outside had just dipped below the skyline, casting a pinkish-orange glow through the glass doors. The streetlights flickered on. But you waited.
“It’s been a minute,” you said.
“I know,” he exhaled, hand raking through his hair. “But you like me back, so I kinda need, like… a long minute.”
“Back?” You grinned, the corners of your mouth lifting all the way to your eyes. “So you like me too?”
He nodded slowly. “Yeah. I thought it was obvious from the, uh… word vomit.”
“Well yeah,” you shrugged. “But I didn’t want to assume. Didn’t wanna be narcissistic.”
“I think even if you were,” he muttered, “I’d still think you were pretty cute.”
You blinked. “Did you just—”
“Gross, I know,” he said quickly, face flushing. “I just said that out loud, didn’t I?”
You laughed. “Yeah. But you kinda can’t take it back now.”
“Fine,” he said, pretending to groan. “You’re cute. Ugh. I said it again.”
-
A MONTH LATER
Jay and Jake found it fundamentally unfair. They were the ones who got close to you first. They were the ones who complimented you, made you laugh, showed up when you needed help. They loved you first or at least, that’s what they told themselves. But here you were, doors locked for the first time in three months, cooking a full-course meal for Sunghoon to celebrate your one-month anniversary.
“You’re not allowed to come,” Sunghoon told them flatly before slamming the door shut.
“But—!” they shouted in unison, already mourning the steak they wouldn’t get to taste.
Word on the hallway was that you were cooking the perfect medium-rare T-bone steak, paired with your signature brown sauce and a vegetable medley so crunchy and flavourful. Meanwhile, Jay and Jake sat hunched on the couch, scrolling through a food delivery app.
“Isn’t it funny,” Jake said, arms folded, “how we were the ones who befriended her first, and now we’re stuck with Burger King?”
“Life’s unfair, bud.”
Back in your apartment, things were a little more romantic. You’d decorated with fairy lights and candles, the room dimly lit. You were still being frugal, splitting every cost you could. But you’d managed to steal two T-bone steaks from the diner you part-timed at.
Sunghoon showed up in a black and white tuxedo, looking like he’d taken the prom theme you had placed as a joke a little too seriously.
“You look absolutely gorgeous,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek.
“And you look absolutely handsome,” you grinned.
He walked over to the table and took in the spread. “Okay, what do we have?”
“I made the steaks, obviously, and then there’s the vegetable medley… and your favourite—mashed potatoes,” you giggled.
Sunghoon exhaled, shaking his head with a disbelieving smile. “How did I get so lucky?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know either.”
He laughed. “The guys are pissed, by the way. You made me all this, and they’re over there with cold fries.”
“What?” you said, surprised. “I made them something too! Don’t worry.”
“You did?” he raised a brow.
“I had a feeling they’d be hungry if you were over here.”
“Babe, you didn’t have to do that. They’re grown men.”
“Yeah, but technically my assignment this week was pasta and I have too many leftovers.”
“They’re spoiled by you.”
“And so are you.”
“True, but I’m your boyfriend. They’re just two annoying shitheads constantly trying to butt in.”
“I’ll be quick. I’ll just drop the dish off and come back.”
“No,” he said, standing. “I’ll do it. You stay here.”
He kissed your forehead, grabbing the lasagna you’d tucked into the fridge. “You’re too sweet, you know that?”
“He walked across the hall and opened the door to Unit 3C.
Inside, Jay was mid-rant. “I just don’t get it. Sunghoon isn’t even that hot.”
“I mean, he is,” Jake added, “but she deserves better, you know?”
Sunghoon cleared his throat. “I can hear you two idiots.”
They both froze, turning around sheepishly. “We were just joking. We love you, man.”
He held up the dish. “And to think I came here bearing gifts from my girlfriend.”
Jake’s eyes widened. “Wait—is that lasagna?”
“She felt bad we were eating good without you, so she made you dinner.”
“Oh my god,” Jay gasped. “Sunghoon, I don’t mean to be pushy, but please marry her.”
“I can’t,” Sunghoon muttered. “Not when you two are constantly inserting yourselves into my relationship.”
“Okay, okay, we’ll back off. Just—can we have the lasagna?”
“And can you tell her we love her?”
“I am not telling my girlfriend you love her,” Sunghoon snapped. “I’ve barely worked up the nerve to tell her that myself.”
“Wait,” Jake said suddenly, “you haven’t told her you love her yet?”
“It’s only been a month.”
“So… you don’t love her?”
“I do,” Sunghoon replied, almost too quickly. “I just don’t want to come on too strong if she’s not ready.”
Jay and Jake shared a glance before shrugging.
“What?” Sunghoon asked, frowning. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Jake cleared his throat. “It’s just… she already said it.”
Sunghoon looked up. “What?”
“Yeah,” Jake replied casually. “You texted her about picking up those heat packs for her cramps, and she went all soft and whispered, ‘God, I love him so much.’ Her words. Not mine.”
Sunghoon stood frozen in the doorway, the dish in his hands suddenly weightless.
You loved him.
“So… you’re saying I should tell her?” he asked, voice quiet, almost unsure.
Jay and Jake both nodded enthusiastically. “Definitely. Especially if it makes her our sister-in-law,” Jay added, grinning.
Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “God, the two of you can be so annoying.”
“But you still love us,” Jay shrugged. “So what’s the point of complaining?”
He hated that Jay was right.
Back in your apartment, Sunghoon sat across from you, completely transfixed. You were dressed in a soft pink satin dress that shimmered every time you moved. It hugged your shoulders delicately, the neckline simple, elegant. Your hair was curled softly, pinned loosely on one side with a vintage clip, and your lips were glossed just enough to make him stare longer than he should’ve.
And God, you looked so beautiful.
He tried to pay attention. He really did. But his heart was too loud, his thoughts too full. How was he supposed to say it?
Sunghoon had never told anyone he loved them before. Not seriously. Maybe to his mom years ago, right before he left for the city. But this? This felt entirely new.
Because sitting in front of him was someone who made every quiet part of his life feel loud again. You filled in the spaces he didn’t even know were missing. You made his apartment feel less cold, his world a little less grey. And the way he loved you—God, it wasn’t something small. It wasn’t a flicker or a passing crush. It was all-consuming and terrifying and the best damn thing he’d ever felt.
He loved you like it was muscle memory. Like even if he forgot everything else, his hands would still reach for yours and only yours.
“Hoonie,” you interrupted gently, frowning. “You’re not listening.”
He blinked back into focus. “Sorry,” he murmured, smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I was just thinking about something.”
“What?” you looked up at him, ur big eyes shining.
Sunghoon unknowingly smiled, his eyes dripping with honey, god he loved you. He wanted to say that. So badly.
“I…I just–uh–feel…that,” His voice trailed off. “You look really beautiful tonight. I mean, you always do. But especially tonight.” He hesitated, the words stuck behind his teeth.
You smiled. “Thank you. You look very handsome too.”
-
Later that night, the two of you were in Sunghoon’s apartment along with Jay and Jake for the usual game night.
You were sitting cross-legged on the floor, your prom-night dress bunched awkwardly around your knees, mascara slightly smudged from earlier laughter, hair pinned half-up. Sunghoon sat slouched in the beanbag beside you, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up, brow furrowed in concentration. Jake was lying on his stomach, legs swinging in the air, and Jay had somehow made himself horizontal on the couch.
You and Jake were a team. Sunghoon and Jay were not handling that well.
“Revive me!” Sunghoon yelled.
Jay shouted back, “I’m busy trying not to die, dumbass!”
Button mashing intensified. Trash talk flew across the room.
“VICTORY!” Jake screamed, leaping up like a madman.
You followed suit, springing to your feet and clambering up onto the coffee table in your dress. “GET WRECKED, LOSERS!” you yelled, pointing dramatically at Sunghoon. “THAT’S RIGHT, LOSERS!”
Jake joined you on the table, doing a badly timed robot dance. The two of you jumped in sync, yelling in triumph, while Jay groaned into a throw pillow and Sunghoon watched with a hand covering his mouth, half to hide his smile, half to suppress a laugh.
“You’re all bark, no bite!” you called, face flushed, hair falling loose. “Your character died fourteen times, Hoonie.”
“I let you win!” he shot back, grinning as he sat up straighter. “I was being a gentleman.”
“Sure,” you scoffed, sticking your tongue out at him. “Real chivalrous of you, sir died-14-fucking-times.”
He chuckled under his breath, eyes lingering on you for a second longer than usual. Then, without a word, he stood and walked out of the room.
You blinked. That was...odd.
You gave Jake a gentle shove off the table and followed Sunghoon into the hallway. He was pacing outside, one hand in his hair, the other fiddling with the watch on his wrist.
“Hoon?” you asked, stepping out and gently closing the door behind you.
He jumped slightly, turning toward you. “You scared me.”
“You okay? You just left so sudden…”
“I—uh—yeah. I was just trying to figure out how to say something.”
You tilted your head, arms crossing over your chest. “Say what?”
“Nothing,” he mumbled with a shrug.
Your expression softened. “Are you mad at me?” You sighed. Maybe your little victory dance had been a bit much. “Hoonie?”
“No, baby, I could never be mad at you,” he said quickly, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.
“Then what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I just…”
You stepped closer, teasing lightly, “Do you want me to redo my victory dance? I could. You just have to beatbox, and I’ll take it from there.”
That made him laugh.
“Come on,” you grinned, starting to move your body in the most ridiculous way. “I’m pretty sure I should’ve been a dancer instead of a chef.”
He laughed again, this time louder and then, before he could stop himself, the words slipped out.
“Oh my god, I love you.”
You blinked. Your smile faded. Your brain, for one impossible second, completely short-circuited.
“Did you just say you love me?” you asked, heart hammering.
His eyes widened in sheer panic. “No?”
“I heard it.”
“You misheard.”
“Oh my god,” you gasped, practically vibrating. “You love me. You love me!”
“Fine!” he burst out, throwing his hands up like he was under arrest. “I do! I love you, okay?”
You smiled, “You do?”
“Of course! I love the way you talk too fast when you’re excited. I love how you make my idiot friends feel like they matter. I love that you make me feel whole. That when I’m with you, I don’t feel hollow anymore. You… you make me feel like I’m not empty.”
You grinned so wide it hurt. “That’s because you’re not.”
“I used to be,” he said helplessly, gesturing vaguely like he was mourning his past self. “I was mysterious. Brooding. Sexy, even. And now? Now I smile at cat videos you send me on TikTok. Look what you’ve done to me. This is all your fault.”
You scoffed, “My fault?”
“Yes! Who else could it be?” he said, breathless, like the truth had been waiting at the edge of his tongue for too long. “You walk into my life with that stupidly perfect smile, that laugh that makes everything feel lighter, those eyes that somehow hold the whole damn sky and now I’ve got feelings. Big ones.”
He took a shaky breath, pausing for a minute.
“I used to think I was fine on my own. But now? I get out of bed just because I know I might see you. I hear your knock and my whole day lights up. For the first time, I feel like I know what living really means. It’s you. Loving you. That’s it.”
You leaned in and kissed him right in the middle of his rant.
He blinked, dazed.
“You sure talk a lot for someone who usually says nothing,” you murmured, forehead resting against his.
“I do it when I’m nervous,” Sunghoon whispered, and then kissed you again.
“I find it cute,” you mumbled between kisses.
Sunghoon grinned into the next kiss, backing you up step by step toward your apartment door, his hands finding your waist. “God,” kiss “I love you,” another kiss “so much.”
You let out a breathless laugh. “You’re very handsy for someone who claimed to be brooding and mysteriou.”
“I told you,” he whispered, lips brushing your jaw as he reached behind you, fumbling for the door handle, “you ruined me.”
Your back hit the door with a thud. He fumbled with the knob like he was drunk on you, eventually pushing it open and guiding you inside.
He kicked the door shut with the back of his foot.
You were still laughing into his kiss. He walked you backward until your knees hit the bed and you dropped onto it with a squeak.
He climbed over you, hands on either side of your waist, face flushed, heart in his throat.
“I fucking love you,” he said again, like it wasn’t real until he repeated it.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, eyes sparkling. “I love you too.”
BAD FOR ME ex!park jongseong x fem!reader wc 1471 smut (mdni) p in v cheating pet names soft!dom jay ngl jay is lowk an ass he makes up for it tho
“Missed you,” he starts before anything else, finding your waist and pulling you into a kiss that makes your knees wobble. “So fucking bad, can’t get off without you.” He whispers meaningless stuff into your mouth, swallowing your sighs. Your back hits the wall opposite of the door, fingers tightening around the collar of his shirt. “I love you so much,” and you freeze, pulling away and sending him a glare.
“Stop saying that.” His expression drops at your response. “Why not?” Jay hums, leaning in and beginning to mouth at your neck, sucking hickies into the skin that your boyfriend would be sure to see. You fist his hair, pulling his head away from your neck with a lack of care that makes him wince. “You’re always saying shit you don’t mean.” You remarked and his eyebrow perked up at your words. “Not always. Like when I said you’re the only one who can get my dick wet. Meant that.” Jay was always bold. You hated that. Hated how easily he got under your skin, and how easily he could break down the walls you built up around yourself. “You’re an asshole”, and at that he smashes his lips back against yours. “I know,” he rasps into your mouth, his hands traveling down your back and palming at your ass.
Jay’s touch is precise, and you find yourself leaning into it, grinding against him. He smirks against your lips before pulling away, forehead knocking against yours. “I mean it, babe. Miss you, need you to come back to me. I know he’s not making you feel good.” He whines, pressing a sloppy kiss to the corner of your lips and traveling down, his arms wrapping around your waist when his knees hit the hardwood. He kisses down the dip in your robe that exposes your uncovered cleavage, and his brows furrow at the thought of you naked in the presence of another man. “He makes me feel amazing, Jay. Stop assuming.” You murmur, head tilting back against the wall while your hands travel down to grip his dark hair.
“Then why do you keep letting me back in? Keep letting me fuck you into the mattress when he leaves?” He utters into your skin, leaving a messy trail of saliva down the curve of your breasts. His lips find one nipple, moaning around the sensitive bud in sync with you. Your jaw clenches at his words, not bothering to respond because you know how good he is at sensing excuses. He tugs at the opposite nipple with his index finger and thumb, twisting and rolling it in ways that had your eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck,” you whine, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.
“Don’t you want this every day? I can give you what you need…” He coaxes, pressing one final kiss to your swollen, spit soaked nipple before tugging at the belt keeping your robe together. Your chest heaves, and you find yourself missing the way his eyes lit up whenever he got to see you like this—bare, all wet for him. You shake your head no, eyes meeting his desperate ones. “You just want the sex and bragging rights, not what comes with it.” You mutter, tilting your head back when he begins to leave a trail of kisses going south against your stomach. Jay shakes his head, eyes close as he worships you. “That’s a lie, baby, you know it.” Your stomach churns when he reaches your mound, twitching when he pressed a gentle kiss against it.
“I want all of you, he doesn’t deserve it.” He moans into your pussy, suckling your clit into his mouth. One of his hands shifts your thigh to rest on his shoulder, keeping your legs spread open for him. His lips are covered in a mess of slick and saliva, and each lick has you moaning and bucking your hips. You thighs clench around his head, and he pauses his ministrations. “That’s what the fuck I’m talking about, Jay. All you talk about is my relationship and how he doesn’t deserve me. When you had a chance, you neglected me, and now you’re upset that someone else is doing what you couldn’t?” You pant, removing your thigh from his shoulder and watching as he looks up at you. “You seriously think that?” He asks, brow arched. “I know that.” His eyes lower, and he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before standing up.
“Let me apologize, then, he pleaded, voice carrying a hint of desperation. It’s so hard for you to say no to him. That’s exactly what you hate more than anything. You swallow before nodding slowly, and his toothy grin makes you regret things a little less. “Bed. I want to take you properly.” Jay nods towards your bedroom and you walk first, tugging your robe a little tighter to cover your exposed front. He shuts the door behind the two of you gently. The back of your thighs hit the edges of the bed, and Jay nudges you forwards so you sit down. He lets out a dramatic sigh like he was being relieved of his stresses when he slipped out of his sweatshirt. He leaves the sleeveless top underneath on, hands fumbling to undo his belt. The metal clinks against the floor, his pants follow, and then he’s hovering above you.
“Promise you won’t let him touch you again.” He whispers, pressing a breath stealing kiss to your lips before you can respond. He doesn’t let you because he already knows what you’ll say, Jay doesn’t need you crushing his dreams. His tongue mingles with yours, one of his hands planted on the mattress behind you while the other reaches down to palm himself through his boxers that were practically suffocating his cock. “Need your help,” he murmurs, glancing down at his ongoing problem before looking back at your face. Your eyes stay trained on him as you reach for his boxers, soothing the ache with your hands while Jay lets out pathetic whines. “Just like that,” he breaths, face dipping into the crook where your neck and shoulder meet. He inhales your scent and nearly cums untouched, cock twitching in his boxers. When you pull down the waistband just enough for him to spring out? Yeah, Jay’s a goner.
He can’t believe he gave this up—went months without your hands, your mouth, and he starts to realize just how disgusting he is. Your hands wrap around his shaft and start to stroke in slow, upwards motions that make him hiss. “Fuuuck..” He groans, hips bucking into your fist with each pump. He felt himself getting close from your hands alone, and he’s quick to pull your hand away when your pace picks up. “Wh-” He shushes you before you could finish, instead taking your hand in his and pushing you down against the mattress. “Need to finish inside of you, c’mon,” he huffs, reaching down to grip his cock and nudging it along your folds. He gathers your slick along his flushed tip, making your breath catch in your throat. “You don’t know how bad I needed this.” He murmurs against the crook of your neck, sinking into you with a shallow thrust. You let out a soft whine that makes his cock twitch. Your thighs instinctively wrap around his thighs as he begins to pump into you, slow and deep, dragging long moans from your lips.
“So good,” he groans, and when he starts to pick up the pace, your nails dig into the skin of his back through the thin top. He hisses, delivering a harsh snap that has your eyes rolling back. “Gonna- fuck, Jay, can’t take n’more,” you whine, and he shakes his head, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck before whispering. “Yes you can, it’s okay, pretty.” He shushes your broken cries with gentle kisses to your cheek, the pad of his thumb rubbing circles into your sensitive clit. “Need to cum, please, Jay, need it so bad,” and he lets out a groan. “Let go for me baby, it’s okay,” he coaxes, pressing firmer circles into your bundle of nerves that makes your cunt twitch around him. You let out the cutest whine when you let go, his lips pressing together in a firm line. “Shit, m’so close.” He whimpers, delivering more shallow thrusts so you aren’t too overstimulated. A tear rolled down your cheek, which he caught with his tongue, kissing the tears away. With one last thrust he finally pulled out, a hand wrapping around his cock to fist himself roughly. He let out a low groan, spurts of him cum covering your bare skin.
He whines little thank you’s kissing your skin frantically before planting a lingering kiss against your lips.
@jeongspetal 4.2.26
authors note: this was originally a really long angst fic but i ended up dropping it so have this
SUMMARY: due to a storm, his parents are stuck in a motel for the night while you are stuck at his house. with wi-fi not working, heeseung can’t think of anything better than recreating the scenes of your smutty books.
WARNINGS: established relationship, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!), fingering, standing sex (?), missionary, pussy eating, masturbation, dirty talking, blowjob, oral (m and f receiving), rough sex, chocking, i lied about the doggy style, pet names (angel, baby), lmk if more, NOT PROOFREAD.
a/n: honestly the intro sucks and so does the outro but i swear the smut is GOOD. literally 3k words of filthy porn ngl. enjoy lol. please LIKE & REBLOG to spread and let me knows your thoughts 💗
What was supposed to be a cozy Thursday night ended up in you being forced to stay at Heeseung’s house for the night.
Forced? Not really, you enjoyed the excuse of spending more time with your boyfriend. Because of a flooding caused by the storm outside, you weren’t able to go back home.
But neither were his parents, who were supposed to have a nice date and ended up being blocked by the horrible weather.
The sound of the raindrops tapping against the window filled the room as Heeseung turned off the shower.
You were laying on his bed with your back to the wall as you peacefully read your book, thankful that your sixth sense made you bring it.
Heeseung entered the room with only a towel wrapped around his waist while he used another to dry his damp hair.
“Reading still?” He asked, nudging the book with toe. “Ew.” You stated, pushing his foot away “And yes.”
Heeseung just chuckled and moved to get his clothes from the drawer “Heard from your parents?”
He hummed “I called them before showering, they said they’ll stay at a motel,” He put his boxers on “But before they could say more, the line cut off.”
You threw a glance at the window “This storm is going to destroy a lot of things.”
Heeseung struggled to put on shorts and then rounded the bed, the mattress lowering where his weight was.
“I bet they’re having some wild sex right now.” You joked, flipping another page of your book.
Heeseung pinched your side “Ew? I don’t really want to think about my parents going at it.” He laughed, laying down beside you.
“Careful, you might have a brother soon.” You joked again, earning another gentle pinch.
A couple of minutes passed by and Heeseung groaned “Wi-fi doesn’t work.” He threw his phone at the end of the bed. “I can’t play games.”
“Poor you.” You cooed, caressing the hand he had placed on your hip, his chest pressed against your back.
“Can’t you put your book down and give me attention?” You could hear the pout in his voice “No boy, I’m at an important point.”
“Evil.” Heeseung murmured as he settled into a more comfortable position, strangely not going anywhere to do something else.
You felt his hand on your side, relaxed as well as his breath even. ‘He must’ve fallen asleep’, You thought, as you flipped another page of your book, unable to stop your eyes from reading the scene unfolding before you.
If Heeseung was to casually open his eyes and read even one line of the chapter, he would certainly make fun of you.
Who even reads smut in their boyfriend’s bed?
You felt his hand flex on your stomach but you didn't really mind, he would always move uncontrollably when asleep— sometimes, even kicking you.
As your mind proceeded the words written down on paper, your body reacted to it, almost unconsciously.
You could feel your core pulse in need, your body temperature raising and at the same time goosebumps appeared on your skin.
It always happened, you couldn’t help the way your imagination wandered with the characters of the book, the tension and the way they cared for each other. It was all too tempting, you could feel your stomach fill with butterflies.
But your boyfriend was sleeping and you didn’t want to disturb him, knowing he already had troubles falling asleep — the reason why he always stayed up late to play games —, so you kept quiet.
You felt Heeseung shift behind you, the hand on your stomach circling your waist until he was able to pull you against his chest, his breath hot against your ear.
You held your breath as he changed position, not making any sudden movement while he used you like you were a teddy bear.
Gulping down, you waited a few beats before focusing your attention back on the chapter.
It’s not like you and Heeseung had never gone further than third base, but it was always so… vanilla.
You longed for someone to use you for your own pleasure, to talk you through your multiple orgasms, to mark you up and manhandle you like a doll.
But you would never have the courage to confess that to Heeseung.
Yes, you two had been together for almost a year and half though you weren’t ready to open up to your contorted fantasies. Afraid that he may run away, you loved him too much for that.
So, you hid in your imagination, burying your nose in books that filled the void inside of you.
Letting out a quiet sigh, you tried to calm the fire igniting your bones, but your hips shifted uncomfortably, the ache between your legs too strong to be ignored.
Suddenly, Heeseung spoke to your ear, voice low and husky “You want to show me too?” You jolted and closed the book, catching your finger in middle, hissing at the pain.
You turned your face around and caught his gaze, something different inside it. Something primal.
“I-I thought you were sleeping.” You said, blinking faintly and Heeseung smirked, “I was reading with you.”
He reached the book from your hand and like a fool, you let him take it. He opened the page where you had left your finger in and cleared his throat “He looked at her with a strange urge, his attention gliding to her face,” He started reading.
“His voice was low when he said ‘Show me, show me how you touch yourself when you’re alone in the middle of the night’.”
The heat that was once in your stomach moved to your cheeks, embarrassment coating your expression.
“It’s just a chapter, I was skipping it.” You tried to reach back for your book but he held it up, sitting “Ah, lying is bad, Y/N.”
Heeseung’s smirk was cocky “You seemed pretty into it.” You scoffed, “Give it back.”
Your boyfriend was clearly enjoying it, the way you blushed and the flustered look on your face. He licked his bottom lip and eyed you up and down.
Only when you lowered your gaze, unable to meet his, did you notice the hard-on he was sporting. Was he enjoying it the same way you were?
“There’s no wi-fi.” He stated, “And my parents aren’t home, don’t you think we should occupy our time?”
This side of him was something you had never seen, perhaps, had he the same hidden likings as yours? Looked like you were about to find out.
“How?” You asked, your voice hoarse, barely yours. Heeseung glanced back at the page and said “Take off your shorts.”
Your breath hitched in your throat, “W-What?” And he just chuckled darkly “Do you think I didn’t notice your body language, mh? Do you think I didn’t see how you were craving… this?” He raised the book.
“Now, take off your shorts or I’ll have to do it myself.” Normally, you would comply, but you were feeling bold, adrenaline shooting in your veins, so you said instead, “Make me.”
His eyes darkened, his brow raised. He placed the book on the bed and crawled towards you as you backed away until your back hit the headboard.
He kept eye contact while his fingers hooked around your shorts, and instead of his usual slow pace, he yanked them off.
You gasped at the sudden force, soon enough your shorts were laying on the floor “Isn’t this what you want?” He questioned.
“You want someone to dominate you, uh? To show you what’s your place?” Your whole body shivered from his words as you mindlessly nodded.
“All this time I’ve been gentle, afraid to make you uncomfortable,” He gripped your panties “But all you wanted was to be fucked, hard, isn’t it?” He ripped them off you, the sound of fabric stretching making you gasp again.
He smirked and threw the messy fabric on the floor, with your shorts “So, I’ll follow what you like.” He pointed at the book resting on the duvet “Play with yourself.”
You widened your eyes. Heeseung’s behaviour was different from his usual one, though you couldn’t say you didn’t like it. Lord, you were drenched just from his words and he could see it, the way your juices coated your pussy, spread in front of him.
You gulped and slowly moved your hand down, reaching your clit which you started circling.
A soft hum escaped your lips at the sweet feeling and you watched him, his gaze so primal and full of lust as he took in the sight of you touching yourself.
Just a few beats passed before he asked “You know what she does now, right?” And you nodded, lifting your hand up to his lips. He hummed and took them inside his mouth, his warm tongue twirling around your digits.
The taste of you, even if it was just brief, was enough to make his head spin, so delicious and intoxicating.
You removed them “Let me watch while you fuck yourself.” He said and was suddenly aware of your position. Of how open you were in front of him, your folds clenching around nothing.
Heeseung raised an impatient brow and you hurried to coat your fingers in your juices, rubbing them against your entrance before thrusting one inside.
You moaned, your fingers brushing against your g-spot right away, given all the times you’d done this.
Heeseung licked his bottom lip, the taste of you still lingering in his mouth, on his tongue. He could feel his shorts grow tighter by the minute, his desire for you overtaking any rational thought.
“One more baby, I know you can take it.” He urged and you complied, adding a second digit to your ministration.
Heeseung let out a groan, his eyes locked on you as you brought pleasure to yourself. He quickly took the book back in his hands and flicked the page, a wicked smile on his lips.
“Yeah, bet you’ll like this.” He said as he pushed himself down the bed and took you by the back of your thighs, tilting your body until it was pending at the edge of the bed.
You stopped your movements and pulled your fingers out with a ‘POP’ sound, resting on your elbows to look down at him “Hee?”
“Don’t worry, angel.” He pried your legs open, his breath fanning on your cunt, making you squeeze your eyes “Just need to taste your sweet pussy.”
And then you felt it, the swipe of his tongue across your folds, your mind clouding from the pleasure as soft gasps escaped your lips.
Heeseung ate you like a starved man, alternating sucking on your clit and fucking you with his tongue, his strong grip prevented you from squirming around.
You rocked your hips against his mouth, needing to chase the pleasure building inside your lower belly.
You reached a hand and placed it on his head, your fingers tangling in his locks, “Mh, that’s it, angel.” He murmured, “Fuck my tongue.”
And so you followed his orders, moving with deep and slow thrusts, just enough to send jolts of pleasure through your jody as Heeseung stuck his warm tongue inside of you.
Soon, your movements grew sloppier and faster, your lips parted “I’m— I’m gonna—“ And before you could even finish your sentence, your orgasm hit you, making your back arch off the bed, your legs shaking.
“This was so hot, baby.” Heeseung pressed a few more kitten licks on your clit before raising himself, caressing your thighs with his thumbs.
You looked up at him, your breath still uneven from the great amount of pleasure he had put you in.
He gave you a small smirk before reaching behind you and taking your forgotten book back. He flipped the pages “Spoiler, she gives him a BJ.” He said.
You chuckled, your body now recovered as you sat up “And you don’t want it?” You batted your eyelashes.
Heeseung took a steady breath. “Don’t tempt me.” He quickly searched further one the book, scanning lines and as he found something he liked, he pointed at it, a small laugh escaping his lips.
“As much as I love feeling your mouth around me, I want to feel you whole.” He murmured.
You sat up, crawling towards him to the edge of the bed “Maybe I want to.”
His breath caught in his throat, your vicinity and your words going straight to his cock “The way she does.”
Heeseung went back to the chapter where it all started, scanning the lines until he read “After making her see stars, he quickly unbuttoned his jeans, his gaze dangerous. ‘Your moans were so sweet, darling.’ He murmured, lowering his jeans and boxers, his cock sprung free.” He paused to gulp.
“He took the back of her head and moved her ‘till her neck bent in an awkward position, his red tip brushing against her lips.” He lowered the book.
“Is this how you want it? Rough?” Heeseung questioned and you nodded “Might as well follow the script.” You shrugged.
A low groan built in his throat, you tugged the hem of his shirt “This off?” Your eyes glistened with fake innocence.
Heeseung swiftly worked his shirt off, throwing it on the floor. It’s not like you had never seen him without a shirt on, you were used to him during beach dates or pool parties, but it was always so breathtaking.
Heeseung smirked, noticing the way your hungry stare was studying his chest. In the blink of an eye his shorts joined his shirt, his cock hard and angry, some pre-cum smeared over the tip.
“Be a good girl and open up for me,” He murmured as he climbed on the bed, his hand clutching the headboard to keep himself steady.
You quickly laid down, his hips hovering on your face. You looked up at him, doe-eyes looking ever so pure… And then you took him all in your mouth.
Heeseung threw his head back at the feeling of your tongue swirling around his cock, your head bobbing back and forth.
“Fuck,” He breathed out, his eyes meeting yours “So good, always so good.”
He caressed your cheek, his thumb grazing gently your skin as his hips bucked, meeting your pace.
He then pulled out, making you frown which was soon transformed when his lips met yours.
You could feel his cock twitching between your breasts, one of his hands squeezing it as his lips claimed yours.
The kiss was sloppy and messy, both of your tongues moving together, his spit down your throat.
He was delaying his orgasm, you noted, because he would’ve cum just from a few licks of yours.
And then he pulled his lips away from yours to thrust his throbbing length inside your mouth again “Mh… Yes— Shit. You’re so good, angel. Mouth made just for me.” He praised as he moved.
You hummed, sending waves of pleasure all through his body.
You gripped his thighs, bobbing your head faster, desperate to bring him the pleasure he deserved.
Heeseung understood and gripped the headboard with both of his hands, his hips thrusting inside of your warm and wet mouth. He hit the back of your throat, making you gag “I’m so close.” He breathed out.
At his words, you ignored the burning sensation building in your throat and hollowed your cheeks, with a few more thrusts he was emptying himself with a groan.
When he pulled out, you licked any drop of cum that spilled out your mouth and hummed happily.
Heeseung chuckled, leaning down again to capture your lips in a messy but loving kiss.
You playfully bit his bottom lip and he pulled away, yelping “Brat.”
You smiled at him and sat up, your voice just briefly hoarse “What happens next?”
Heeseung’s gaze darkened but his words were serious “You sure you want to continue?” He sighed softly, “Baby, I don’t want to hurt you.”
You smiled reassuringly and beckoned to the book “Time to change chapter.”
Heeseung let out a quiet groan, his cock visibly twitching “He fucks her against the wall.” He narrated what he had read “Hard, hand around her throat… is that what you want?”
Just the idea of doing it that way had you drenched down there, a shiver ran along your spine “Yes, Hee.” You breathed out, and to emphasise you add “I need it.”
“My nasty girl.” He practically growled as he got up from the bed, taking you with him and slammed you against the wall of his bedroom.
You yelped when your back hit the cold surface, the tapping of the raindrops on the window your background music.
Heeseung claimed your lips again as one of his hands snuck to squeeze your backside, his fingers kneading it.
You could again feel his hard cock pressing against your stomach, its warmth infecting your core.
“I’ve always wanted to fuck you,” He whispered on you throat “To have you milk my cock as I take you so hard you can’t say a coherent word.”
You rocked your hips against his, a clear effect of his words, your arms wrapped around his neck.
As if you weighed nothing, he raised you and you wrapped your legs around his sculpted waist.
Without any warning except for the aligning of his cock, he slammed deep inside of you, making you moan out.
Heeseung wasn’t the biggest cock you’ve seen, but he surely was the longest. You could feel him so deep, he could probably even reach your stomach if he tried hard enough.
You gripped the back of his neck like your life depended on it as he moved without any mercy, pulling all the way out until the tip just to slam back in, knocking the air out of your lungs.
He snuck one hand between your breasts and reached your throat, wrapping it around it. He gripped, not enough to choke you but good enough to make you light-headed.
His cock pounded hard into you, driving your brain into nothing but a puddle of his name, the one you screamed and moaned.
Your nails dug into his shoulders and he grunted, rewarding you with a deeper thrust, one you can almost feel in your centre, where the familiar knot was tightening.
Your eyes rolled back, just moans and whimpers escaping your lips.
Heeseung removed the hand from your throat and gripped your neck instead, letting your lungs that were screaming in protest fill with air up to their capacity.
He moved so your forehead pressed against his, both of you panting in each other’s mouth, your pussy clenching around him.
He groaned, he put one of his hands on the wall to steady himself as his hips kept bucking fast on yours, the sound of skin slapping mixing up with the rain’s.
“Is this what you like, baby?” Heeseung asked, moving his face to gently nip on your neck.
Your whole body felt sensitive from the attention he was giving it, from his small hickeys to the way he kept hitting your sweet spot “Y-yes.” You croaked out “Feels s’good, fuck.”
Heeseung grinned and stilled, twitching inside of you with a groan.
Before you could even comprehend it, he had you with your back on the mattress, never pulling out of you.
Your legs spread open, eager to feel him in you, to let him claim him.
“Fuck,” He grunted out, his pace never once faltering as he gripped your thighs to help himself, surely there would be marks the next day “Feels like heaven inside of you.”
You answered with a muffled whimper, not sure if your brain could even form out a word anymore.
He leaned on you, chest pressed against chest as he hid his face in the crook of his neck, his hot breath hitting your skin.
You rolled your eyes back, the pleasure building inside of you almost unbearable “Hee..” You breathed out, gripping his forearm to warn him where words couldn’t reach.
“I know,” He murmured, “Me too, baby…”
You cried out as you tried to delay your orgasm the same way he could do, but the pleasure was too much and before you could even try to resist more, you saw white.
Your back arched off the bed and squirmed around, your walls clenching tight around Heeseung who, despite your state, never stopped thrusting.
“Shit— Where do you want it?” He asked, because it was in some ways a first timer. First time going rough, first time going raw.
You couldn’t find your voice, your eyes watery from the impact of your orgasm, so you wrapped your legs around his waist, trapping him.
He frowned “Are you— Fuck.” You felt his cum filling you up to the brim, the sensation so sweet a gasp left your lips as he rocked slowly, adrenaline lowering.
After a couple of minutes where neither of you had the energy to move, Heeseung raised himself and offered you a warm smile “How was it?” He questioned as he stood up.
The sight of you, sprawled on his bed with both your seeds running down your thighs was enough to make him pop another boner, which earned him a side eye from you.
“Don’t worry, baby.” Heeseung chuckled, opening one of the drawers to retrieve one of his shirts and helping you in it. He then carefully cleaned you up, dried the sweat running down your forehead and after putting back on his shorts and underwear, he laid beside you.
One of his arms snuck around your shoulder, he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead “You’ll have to go commando, since I ripped your panties.” You giggled, hugging him tighter.
“I really enjoyed… this.” Heeseung smirked, “I bet.” He glanced at the book, now resting on the bedside table “Come to me when you start another book, yeah?”
Heeseung absentmindedly squeezed your breast through the shirt “I’ll make sure to recreate it all… even may steal some of the lines.”
Content that he wasn’t going to judge you for your strange likings, rather supporting them, you let yourself be held as the storm outside slowly died, the breeze hitting your skin as you fell asleep, safe in his arms.
context: heeseung has always treated you like a little sister, but things start to change when you become a junior in highschool while he is a senior.
pairing: reader x heeseung, non!idol heeseung, non!idol reader, high school au, reader is jake’s little sister, fwb?
warnings: cussing, underage drinking, smoking, suggestive jokes? angsty..? idk anymore
warnings: dom!jeongin & sub!reader ⋆ biting! ⋆ marking! ⋆ hand! & mouth!kink ⋆ hair!pulling ⋆ choking! ⋆ finger!sucking ⋆ katoptronophilia! (arousal of doing sexual activities in front of a mirror) ⋆ almost getting caught ⋆ small!manipulation, gaslighting and corruption ⋆ dirty talk ⋆ clit!play ⋆ overstimulation ⋆ squirting! ⋆ fingering (f.receiving)
summary: you always noticed them — his hands, big, fingers long and slender, so veiny, that you could feel every single one of them pressing against your skin…you tried so hard not to act on your own inner desires, but as more things started to happen, your control over your body began to waver — and you weren’t the only one
main masterlist
──────────────────────
He doesn’t even know what he is doing to you. Your lips fall apart, your own fingers grazing over your lips, face, trailing lower and lower, imagining they were his instead. With every simple move of his hand — gripping, holding, touching or even just extending — with every look, every fleeting glance, your whole body shakes from the inside, mind turning to mush. You tried to stop, feeling so awful after every single thought of his hands, but nothing was enough to keep you from denying yourself the small pleasure of even trailing your eyes trail over them. His hands — so big, so strong, fingers long and thin, veins pressing against his skin every time he so much as grazes over something, rings glimmering at you teasingly. You can’t stop yourself — not now, when you have finally, just barely, started to feel them pressing against you.
Jeongin…when you first met him, he was shy — always wearing a sweet smile on his face that deepened into the cutest dimples. That is how you remember him and that is what you thought he is always like. You still remember how your own anxiety radiated off you at the thought of meeting your best friend’s friends. However Felix, being his bubbly self, did everything he could to make feel comfortable — comfortable enough that you eventually started coming to their practice from time to time. At first, you didn’t want to get to know them, mostly of the fear that they might not like you, but that fear faded quickly, forgotten the first day you ever spent with them.
Like Felix, they all were nice to you. Some more quiet than the others, but they always intended to make you comfortable and included — from Chan, making you feel included in every conversation, to Minho making sure your plate is always full, to Changbin always putting smile on your face with his stupid jokes, to Hyunjin who you share your love for art with, to Han who secretly shares his sweets with you, to Seungmin whose bickering and nagging keeps you occupied most of the time, but with his and all of your new friends’ doings, it still couldn’t make your attention even a little waver away from him.
He is all the same — quiet, but after some time you have realized that maybe it is just you. With the others he is open, he is more himself and you? You keep your eyes on him. The beginnings were difficult for everyone — always careful with their words and actions, till they finally saw the small weight on your shoulders fall off. You didn’t even realize how truly you were nervous around them, but they actually were just acting careful around you, so they wouldn’t scare you off. Even him, but with him, you have never truly got close enough.
You were staring, awfully so and you wonder how the others didn’t picked up on it yet or even him. Maybe somehow they did, maybe they just didn’t want to embarrass you, or maybe they were just clueless. He was nothing, but kind to you, walking around you slowly like in waiting, but you always did nothing, but stare. He also, not like the others, didn’t touch you — not even a slight push nor a hug. You do know about his small dislike of someone touching him and you do respect it, keeping your hands to yourself, while also imagining what it would feel like to have his on your skin.
You wonder if he maybe did notice your eyes on him, nonmoving, glaring, but after some time you started to notice the small changes between you two. You don’t remember, when it was the first time you truly noticed them, but you do remember the time, when he got you a drink you have requested. You remember how his fingers wrapped around the cold can, leaving small imprints — you remember, when you went to take it, your own fingers didn’t even reach where his once were. Even just this lingering memory makes you shake, air getting stuck in your throat. Such a small gesture — simple, but it meant so much more for you. It also fully started your little obsession, with his hands.
You have never touched them, not even that time, too careful and trying to be respectful and with that you never truly appreciated, how nice his hands are. You for quite a while didn’t even realize yourself how much time you have spent looking at them. You always liked hands, you even had a particular picture of perfect pair of hands and he had them. It is almost one of the first things you notice on a person and not just in a certain way — how they hold a pen, phone or even how they squeeze at you, when you go shake your hand with theirs. However there was also a one way you like them the most — how they would hold you, grip at you or even pinch you. You didn’t want to think about him and his hands in that way, because you thought it was wrong, even pinching yourself every time it crossed your mind. Your skin was tender at the end of the day and even the slight sting couldn’t stop you and at one particular night, when you were on the brink of sleep, you decided to not hold yourself off any longer.
Your mind was already fuzzy, exhausted. You could feel the world around you turning into black spots before your very eyes, but you knew that it mostly wasn’t from the need for sleep. You couldn’t close your eyes, mind swirling, thoughts a mess, before every black spot before you formed into one solid picture. Him — right on top of you, caging you, body pressed against yours. His hands — trailing over your body, gripping, pinching your skin between his fingers. Your breathing has turned into quiet gasps as you followed his imaginary movements with your own hands. Oh, how would they feel running through your hair. How his fingers would pinch lightly at your peeks. How would he use them on you — pushing, scissoring, moving so fast, curling just right, till they reach the one delicious spot inside you and you just know it would be so good. He would know perfectly what to do to you — you would let him do anything and everything to you…You would let him wrap his hands around you, till your skin would turn tender. You would let him wrap them around your neck, your hips, your thighs, everything. You would let him fuck you onto his fingers, cunt leaking all over him, squeezing tightly, because you knew it would be too delicious to stop…You are a mess and a one thing that didn’t help was that he had finally started to feel comfortable around you.
You felt so dirty, yet you couldn’t stop, not when the thought of your hands replaced by his brought you to such ecstasy that it made your eyes roll back into your head. When he for the first time touched you — shivers of delight ran down your spine, world around you swirling. It was so simple again, but it being him was everything, but that. Shock — sparks alighting on the spot and you did nothing, but stare dumply at him, yet again he didn’t seem to notice.
One day, when you were outside in a small garden, it had happened. That night was warm, small wind blowing through your hair as you so desperately tried to put them behind your ear to take a small bite of Minho’s amazing cooking. You were frustrated, huffing lightly as your hand came to wrap around the small strand of hair, that kept getting inside your mouth every time you would try to take a bite. You were almost ready to rip it out of your head, till you felt a small graze of fingers against your temple and like your body knew, you froze. Standing before you, looking down at you, was Jeongin and for a split second you caught his gaze — staring, he was staring right at you…your lips. The food in your spoon almost fell off, watching him slowly and precisely put your stubborn hair behind your ear, before turning back around to the conversion he was having with Hyunjin, like nothing had happened.
Like he didn’t just touch — like he didn’t do something so intimate, right in front of the others, like he didn’t just stare at your lips….
Your appetite didn’t return, it just turned into something way more different. The first time he ever laid his hands on you…Maybe you were thinking too much, but you never have felt such a rush, when Felix did it for example. So simple, yet not. For the rest of that night, like every other, you couldn’t stop looking, thinking, dreaming about those hands. Everything he did with them was something so mesmerizing and you were absolutely smitten. That night is treasured deeply in your heart and how much you didn’t expect him to do it again and again.
You tried to keep your distance, even if it didn’t mean much since you kept looking at how his fingers moved — so elegantly that you truly couldn’t do anything about your staring, but he…he seemed to only move closer and closer to you since than. When he first sat beside you, your body almost froze, like you were certain a small move would make him move away. Maybe you did want that in some way, because his whole presence made your mind shut off — mumbling, muscles spasming yet frozen and you truly wonder how you could even press down on the buttons of the controller you were holding. The game you were playing with Felix was quickly forgotten, his whining and shouting, nothing but a background noice, but one sentence ringed in the air.
“Let me try.”
Your head didn’t turn to him, body so still you didn’t know if you should just fall over so the ground could swallow you whole. He never truly spoke to you and you have to wonder again how is it that he has you wrapped around his finger this much…that’s right his finger, the one touching yours. Your eyes stared down on the controller in your hands as he came to grab it from your grasp, hands momentarily wrapping around yours. His hands — so big and warm were almost galloping yours and you couldn’t fight against the small sigh leaving you. His touch was again so brief that you thought it was just your wild imagination, but it did happened and you did find the last bits of strength to look up at him.
He was smiling, dimples showing seemingly sweet, but something in his eyes flickered briefly, when he trailed his gaze over your features before looking away. You were a mess, truly a mess and there is no other word better to describe yourself. Since than he did so many things with his hands, when he was near you — hands running through his hair, till you got a whiff of his lingering shampoo, his fingers tugging at the zipper of his hoodie, tapping against the glass of his drink, fingers pressing against his lips, when he was deep in thought and every time you looked — every time you noticed how his head would slightly tilt into your direction and every time you looked away in shame. Every time your eyes met his, you naively thought he was only glancing your way, only looking at his new friend — but, oh…how wrong you were.
────
Sweat — rolling down their flushed skin, chests rising in deep, rigid breaths, that you mirror lightly in your own way. You can see the exhaustion dripping off them, heads rolling back, muscles jumping, joints shaking as they slump down to the ground. You don’t know for how long you have been here, how long you have been lost in thought, but it was enough for them to feel their bodies screaming for relief. You tried to helped them the best you could, but you yourself didn’t see why you were even needed here in the practice room. Felix and the others, thought of you as a thing to lean on, a support and what kind be friend would you be not to stay…Even if you were just sitting on the couch watching — watching him.
Your best friend startles you a little, pulling you out of your thoughts as he flops down next to you, huffing, stretching. “Man, I am so tired–“ Felix whines to no one particular. However you do smile a little, when he turns to you to jokingly pout, before his lips part again to blow out puffs of air.
“We should take a break.” Says Chan, nodding at everyone, seemingly exhausted as well. The new comeback was a weight on everyone’s shoulders right now — nonstop practicing, trying to get perfect their dances that were already flawless. You had thought that maybe your presence might distract them somehow. However to them you were a calm presence, a shoulder to lean on. What they didn’t seem to realize, though, is that it was quite the opposite for you. It felt like torture in a sense…watching sweat drip down his face, trailing down his neck, pulling at his thin t-shirt in attempt to cool down a little, hearing the heavy breaths escape him between takes, the deep frown of concentration etched on his face as he danced.
You are more quiet than usual, fidgeting with your own hands, as your eyes travel from him to the others — no use whatsoever, because you still found yourself looking at him as he goes to sit down on the floor. “Want something to eat, before we continue?” Asks Chan, voice breathy and his question is already being answered by series of agreements.
You don’t know what time it is now, but you do feel small specks of exhaustion settling over you too. Still, as always, your mind and heart ignore the rest of your body, too occupied with the view infront of you. Jeongin had you mesmerized by his smooth movements, hair now slightly damp from the hours of practice and you couldn’t help, but wonder how much time had passed to get him like this — body sprawled over the floor, elbows holding his upper body up as he leaned back into the couch. Every time he would take a breath, his dark t-shirt would cling onto his chest. His head is rolled back, giving you a view of his long neck, your eyes following the prominent vein peaking from beneath the thin skin, Adam’s apple bobbing, looking good enough to bite and his hands…they keep twitching, like tapping into the rhythm of the music that already had stopped playing minute ago. You are distracted again, so much you don’t feel or hear the others moving around the room.
“Innie-ah, you coming?” Asks Hyunjin and that makes you turn away from him to the others, who look at their dark haired friend, who is still sitting on the floor. You don’t even realize, that they already moved to go get some food, your eyes meeting Felix’s and you do know he could see the way yours widened at the next words.
“No–“ Says Jeongin and you already feel a lump forming in your throat at the answer as he doesn’t even take a move to go with them. “Just buy me whatever.” He waves his hand lightly, your eyes flickering over the room back to him and you almost crumble, when he meets you in the middle.
You can feel the others now looking at you too in a silent question, which should be simple to answer in a sense, but you can’t help but almost stutter. You will be alone…alone with him, if you don’t go and you don’t know if you want that. No, you feel like your body needs that — feeling his and his presence only caging you in and the thought makes your seemingly exhausted body wake up from any kind of slumber it was in. Your body and heart speaks for you, but your mind screams at your answer.
“I don’t want anything — I will just wait here.“
Everything was said so fast and collected, but your gaze didn’t waver from his, because you physically couldn’t look away. You watch his eyes narrow a little, fingers twitching again and like a fly you follow the movement, almost blacking out at that, because he just saw you. He was you definitely looking and if you hadn’t turned away as if the sight of his hands physically burned you, it might have not look so obvious. You curse at yourself silently in your mind, glancing at the others, who nod at you in acknowledgment, before taking their leave and just as their presence started to fade, you feel his grow heavier — expanding, filling the space around you.
You are choking, thoughts a mess and for the first time you don’t think about anything and you just feel. You don’t hear, but feel the doors closing, the distancing footsteps, the way his breathing levels, the way his muscles stretch, when he goes to take a sip of his water. The way his fingers scrunch up the water bottle…You want to cry, scream, anything, because you don’t even recognize yourself anymore. You have never been so smitten, so mesmerized by someone and the worst part is that he might never know…
Jeongin swallows the last bits of water, before looking at you. Your legs are pushed up to your chest, sitting in the far corner of the couch, like you wanted to make yourself as small as possible. The dimmed light highlights the small frown on your face, watching silently, how you fumble with your fingers. It was quiet, nothing, but the small rustles of fabric from him, when he moves to stretch a little and the small hum of the air conditioning in the room. The small cold breeze does nothing for your heated skin, eyes looking down at nothing in particular, silently counting the seconds. You are pathetic — finally you have him alone with you and you can’t even do anything about it. You don’t even know what would you say…you don’t even know, if you are even capable of ever voicing your words out loud.
You don’t know if it is just you again, who feels the tension in the room, but you do feel how he suddenly turns his attention to you. You don’t move, his stare piercing through your body in a way that it is almost impossible for you to look back at him. You have no shield, no excuse — you can look at him, you are just not sure if you are capable of normally, without your emotions reflecting in your eyes. However you do see him from the corner of your eye stand up, pushing down his sweatpants that had ridden up his long legs. “Want some?” His voice cuts through the thick air and you can’t do anything, but nervously look up at him to know what he is asking.
In his hand is his now empty water bottle, fingers digging into the plastic little deeper than it is necessary. Your eyes meet his only, because he moves his occupied hand to his face to lightly flick off a small drop of sweat running down his jaw. At that you notice how your closed up throat is screaming in thirst, nodding slowly in plea, too scared to even open your mouth to speak. Jeongin mimicks you, before walking up to the small table in the corner of the room. You wonder why you both not just ignore each other, scrolling away on your phones before everyone gets back — you soak in each other’s presence.
You follow his every move, suddenly so confident with his back turned to you, watching muscles rip under his thin t-shirt. Everything goes slow around you, yet too quick at the same time, body twisting a little, when he turns back to you to give you your water. Your muscles spasm, legs falling down the couch in a sound way too loud in the silence of the room and you can’t help, but cringe at everything you are doing right now. You feel exposed under his eyes, even if he is just looking, even if his stare is always seemingly so nerve racking.
Jeongin stops right in front of you, making your frown disappear from your face so quickly you almost have a whiplash. Right before you is your water bottle, his hand wrapped around it — you go grab it slowly and unsurely. You keep your face straight as best as you can, but how can you, when your hand touches his…the reason you are so miserable. His skin is cold, kissed by the dripping water and you follow it, till it falls off the tip of his finger. You don’t know if you are moving so slow just to not crumble, hand lingering on his second too long that it seems intentional. However his touch — before you can melt into the leather couch any further is gone as his hand falls back to his side.
You feel your heart shatter not just from that, but also because you notice how your hands shake a little as you go to take a sip. The cold water though does nothing too ease your inner thirst, not when he is still standing before you…You swallow a little too hard, carefully glancing at him from beneath your lashes and your lips are left parted at the sight of him towering over you. He was always a bit taller than you, but from this angle you are even more intimidated. When did he move so close? You almost feel the material of his sweatpants grazing over you and you don’t move away from it nor into it — you are completely still, staring at him and he does notice the inner battle reflecting in your eyes. There is no use, you don’t have the strength to fight your emotions right now.
“Something wrong?” He asks you, voice smooth as ever, loud around you. You are completely drowning in his presence alone. Your lips go to press against each other, but your mouth is left open again, when you catch him following the movement. Goosebumps rise on your skin, words getting caught in your throat again, so you just decide to just shake your head, even if you are lying. Everything is wrong — with you and your obsession, kink, to the way he stands before you, talks, moves. How does he do it?
Your eyes travel away from him, just for a second to atleast blink, because it seems you can’t even do that, but then shock fills you. The move so quick and smooth you feel your mouth drying again, when he suddenly takes the water from you. Pathetically you want to chase the feel of his skin again, but you only look up at him in bewilderment. The way his fingers grazed over yours leaves a permanent burning sensation, that sends your stomach spinning. It seemed like he used your disbelief of such act to move closer, because your knee touches his leg briefly, but that isn’t the thing that makes you almost fall into unconsciousness.
It is the way he puts the rim of the bottle against his own lips, tongue sticking out for a moment and you visibly shiver at the thought of it being your lips instead. He takes a long sip of water, some of it rolling down to his chin, neck bobbing again. The way he makes everything look so good, should be illegal. Your mind shatter again, because he is drinking from the same bottle as you — he could have take a new one for himself. You knew how he is, when people get close to him, how he slightly pulls away from an unexpected hug, even if there is a smile on his face. He is definitely not smiling now…he is watching you from behind your water, small breath falling from him as he goes to wipe away the spilled water from his pink lips. “Sorry, thirsty–“ He shrugged, like that move didn’t just make you form into a puddle.
“It’s okay.” You mumble so quietly you don’t even hear yourself. You watch him relax his arms by his sides, also noticing, how he holds to bottle just with his fingers. You don’t know where to look right now, small silence between you two, before he so suddenly smiles down at you, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, nor it does last long as he tilts his head at you.
It was a silent question and you answer it by another wave of silence, not really sure what to do — if you want him to leave or let him get even closer to you. The quiet makes it hard for you to breathe, his presence and stare only intensifying it. You can see his own unspoken words circling in his eyes, yours nonblinking so you wouldn’t seem like a bigger mess than you already are. With his head tilted down at you, the move making your heart skip a beat, his lips form into a small frown. “You are always so quiet, when I am around…Did I do something?” Jeongin sounds sad, eyebrows furrowing lightly and you do nothing, but panic a little.
“No!” You say, voice a little too loud, making heat rush to your cheeks. With your now wide eyes you watch his frown deepen even more and you curse yourself for being like this around him.
“Really?“ He says, pausing a little, features softening, but his eyes hardening. “Then why do you keep looking at me?” You pause, breathing becoming short as you stammer to answer. He is only meaning now — not every day, every moment…You are again lying to yourself, but you have to, otherwise you would probably die on the spot. However the way he said it…no.
“I don’t look at you.” That is the most vile lie you have ever said and you are still looking at him, while you said it. You feel the world closing on to you at the thought of him noticing your nonstop staring — that’s it, you are only allowed to look at him from afar. Admire him, thing you will propably never have, but in some way you do wanted him to notice. In some twisted way, you want him to punish you for it…
Jeongin only hums lowly at your answer, gaze leaving yours, like in deep thought, before he twists his body a little to put the bottle onto the table behind him. Why does it feel like he is waiting? Maybe to see if you will crack? What if he did notice and now he thinks you hate him or something? Your mind is running wild, so distracted that you see him moving in the mirrors surrounding you, way before you feel him.
He humms lowly again, before he goes to sit right next to you, body so close to yours you do a double take to make sure you are seeing right. In the mirror you see him looking at you, feeling the hard glare on the side of your face, but you don’t meet it. You are baffled by everything he did so far — so out of character, so different from the smiley Innie you knew. For a moment think you think, that are dreaming. That you are only imagining his side touching yours, feeling every breath he takes. The small spasm of muscle, when he twists his body to face you a little more. However you see it and feel it, everything is happening so fast you can’t do anything about it yet again. His reflection — the smell of his sweat mixed with his perfume sends you into overdrive and when you see him move his right hand to you…you are left speechless again.
You let him, really you can’t even fight it, because you have been thinking about his hands, his touch every night and every day and now…now his hand comes to put your hair behind your ear. It is the same as before, but now his touch seems to hold a meaning, hand lingering on the side of your face. You let him trace his fingers over your jaw, all the way down to your chin, but he doesn’t make you look at him. You only watch him through the mirror, like you are not ready to face this reality of him touching you so intensely. His hair hides his gaze on your lips, but you do feel it, lips parting in silent gasp as he moves his hand back to your hair. Goosebumps rise on your skin, shivering, when he presses over the skin behind your ear, before you see him leaning closer, hot breath fanning over your ear.
“I know.”
That word…that word makes you freeze in your spot, panic, fear and something more striking you, head snapping to face him. He is close — his nose almost touches yours if you wouldn’t back away in on an instinct. Jeongin’s face is calm, hint of a smile on his lips at your state as your mouth keeps closing and opening. “What-“ You are in denial somehow, only to calm yourself down, but is it even possible with him being so close to you? You watch him remove his hand, with watchful eyes and with that his smile only widens, while you feel a lump forming in your throat. His leg is pressed against yours, reminding you of how close he still is to you and you almost whimper at the confident look you are given — he knows.
“You think, I didn’t notice?” His tone isn’t sharp, but it still does make shame and embarrassment reach you, because you have been caught. Jeongin doesn’t seem to be angry nor disappointed and that makes it all too worst, because he must already know the answer to why exactly you have been watching him. “You stare at me every time I turn away — hoping I won’t catch you, but I always do. So tell me…why and what is it you are looking at?”
You are ashamed. He already knows, but he still wants you to say it. His face is so close to yours, hand on the back of the couch and you know that if you would try to move away he will catch you — there is no way out of this. Though you don’t have the strength to admit yourself yet. “Nothing…” You whisper, head low, while he tilts his again.
“Nothing?” He repeats and now you hear a small hint of dissatisfaction.
“I…I am just looking nothing more, I swear-“ Liar — you are a horrible liar.
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”
You have never heard such tone leaving his lips before and you wonder if he is turning angry only because you won’t say it. How can you? You have been caught, but it is not like you were subtle about your actions to begin with. You are embarrassed to be acting like that — so desperate and pathetic, but you can’t control your needs and desires. You feel almost on the brink of tears just from how ashamed you are and you want nothing more than to run and hide, so you do. However you are only quick enough to sit up, hands immediately finding you, pressing you back into the couch and you do gasp out loud at that.
He doesn’t remove his hands from your upper arms, hold strong enough for you to see there is no use trying to escape. His fingers dig into you hard, but it is everything, but painful. You are forced to meet his gaze again and you quiver at the glare he sends you. “Talk, Y/N — can you even do that?” Jeongin leans closer to you, making your back press into the cushion, while he almost hovers over your body.
You don’t know what to do — cry, scream? In embarrassment, pain, but mainly relief, because seeing him like this leaning over your body sends shivers down your spine. “I am sorry–“ You whisper, gasping lightly, when he suddenly releases you from one of his hands to press against the spot next to your head, leather squeaking under his weight.
“Sorry for what exactly?” You almost shake your head, because you don’t particularly know the answer. You are sorry for everything, yet not, because your actions leaded to this. You don’t take your eyes off each other, chests rising so wildly they almost meet. Something then flickers in his eyes, features softening just for you to notice the change. “Sorry, that you don’t talk to me like you do to others?” You blink at the change of tone a little, his words striking small confusion, but you are no fool — he is being manipulative and it is working.
“I was trying to be…respectful.” That word sits heavy on your tongue.
“Respectful…” He repeats after you again. You let him turn you into nothing by a mess beneath his hands, melting at the way his hand travels up your arm. “You and I both know there is nothing respectful between us–“ Your state — wide eyes, lips parted, skin heated — your state makes him melt a little too.
“Us?”
Jeongin is shaking on the inside, because he knew — he wanted you to say it so bad, his grip tightens over your collarbones, thumb pressing into the bone. “Tell me, Y/N. Why are ypu acting so different around me — and don’t tell me you were only looking. I can see you mouthing the words…what do you want?“ It’s a demand, perhaps a plea for you to stop acting innocent.
“I don’t–“
He tsks at you, frown falling over his face, growing frustrated. “Why are you so scared…Did I do something to upset you?” Jeongin says, quietly, sounding so sincere, you stutter.
“No!” It comes out broken, ending in a pathetic whine. You can’t breathe, because it would make you breathe him in too. You realize your state at that…You can’t hide any longer, there was no use even at the start of this. “It’s me…” You confess, not fully, but he sees the way the invisible shield before you crack enough for him to press against you more.
Your legs are pushing against each other, his hand griping on to the cushion next to your head, while the other slides over your arm back again. You watch his eyes turn dark, making you tremble beneath him. Jeongin’s breath mixes with yours, gaze piercing through yours, till it suddenly drifts to your mouth. “Then tell — tell me, what you want and I will give it to you.” His words are like honey, but you hear something, that makes you choke…desperation.
“I can’t–“ You can’t move, breathe, but you do feel him and it is becoming absolutely intoxicating.
“But you do want to–“ His eyes meet yours again, small silence falling between you after that. You don’t answer, because it is so obvious — you need it, want it, you are just not sure if you can handle it. Your body battles with your mind as his hand comes to caress the side of your neck. You whimper, the sound so loud in the silence and so raw you have to close your eyes. His fingers tickle you and your breath turns into gasp, when you feel him blowing air on to the thin skin of your neck. That sound sends sparks of pleasure up his spine. You are too into everything to notice the slight shake in his movements, while his next words bounce off your skin. “Do you want me is that it? Or do you just want my hands?”
You don’t recognize him, he is completely dripping in sin and you are eating every last bit of it. With his lips so close to your skin, your eyes flew back open, staring behind him at the reflection of you two. “I…I want–“ You are speechless, watching him pull away a little to meet your gaze again, heart hammering against your chest as he puts his hands around your back to pull you closer. “I want everything.”
“Then take it.”
You pull your hands away from your chest to press them against his instead, gasping lightly when you feel his heart. “Please–“ Your hands grasp at his t-shirt, making it slide down his chest a little and your simple plea makes him snap.
Jeongin knew — he knew from the beginning. How your lips fell apart every time he would look at you. How your body stilled, every time he was near you and how you stared at his hands and everything he does with them. He firstly thought he was imagining it, thinking maybe, that you are too shy to approach someone new to talk to them, but he quickly realized it — you didn’t want to just talk, you wanted something more, him. The idea corrupted him, the idea of his friend’s best friend being so smitten by him to the point you would fall down to your knees the second he would touch you. Like now — pulling you closer to his heated body, eyes falling to your lips, that were always so delicious to look at. He couldn’t take it anymore, he had to grasp the opportunity to finally talk to you, to feel you. He finally has you, where he wants and he wonders, what would Felix think about the way you are acting like now. So desperate, so his…
The racing thought, the realization that maybe somebody might walk in and caught you two in the act is something he never knew he wanted. His tongue swipes across his lips, mouth so close to yours now, that you feel it grazing you, your small gasp for air being then swallowed by his hungry mouth. It’s hard, all so knowingly desperate and he drinks your small sighs of pleasure with greediness. The feel of his lips finally on yours makes you delirious, letting your body fall onto his, lips pushing harshly against his. It is all spit, tongue and teeth, everything, but sweet, making your mixed drool roll down your chins. His hands roam then, sliding up your back, then down to your hips, before one of them tangles in your hair.
You cry out sharply, when you feel him tug at your roots, head rolling back, the new exposed flesh being immediately warmed by his mouth. Jeongin doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down, running his lips over you — licking, sucking, nibbling and you let him take it all. “Finally you have said it–“ He mumbles across your skin, groaning into you. “If only you had said it sooner.”
“Jeongin–“ You yelp, when he suddenly bites the side of your neck, the pain quickly melting into pleasure. You panic, suddenly realizing your position and situation — the others can be back at any given moment, you know nothing about how far away they are and also their is a possibility of someone roaming around the building, even at this late hour. If someone wrong sees you, it would get you two into big trouble. However his kisses, touches quickly pull you out of your racing thoughts.
You trust him maybe more than you should, considering that you can feel the slight sting at the side of your neck. The small appearing mark doesn’t seem to stop him, it is completely the opposite. His hand finds the back of your neck, too weak to fight him, making him twist you to his liking. Jeongin licks a long straight line up your neck, before blowing cold air, sending shivers down your spine. You are already shaking, legs pushing against each other a little harder, smearing your already leaking juices. The action is not missed, hands falling to your thighs, pinching at your flesh. You are hot — sweat dripping down the side of your face, breathing fast. His mouth then meets yours again, in a kiss so sweet you can’t help, but whimper.
“Been thinking about your mouth for so long.” The confession makes you fist his t-shirt harder, almost ripping it. You feel yourself clenching over nothing, legs pressing against each other, his hands only increasing the pleasure.
Jeongin pokes his cheek with his tongue, breathing heavily through his nose as he leans away to look at you. Just your look — just your slick, puffy lips and glossy eyes make his cock twitch. The thought of you being so open for him like this, so trusting, is something that maybe he wants to show off. You are a problem…sweet, delicious, addicting, making him act like this, but it seems you are too drunk to even notice the effect you have on him. His fingers tug lightly at the material of your sweatpants, feeling the heat of your skin even through the layers of clothing. He watched you too — he thought about you and how you would look…Under him, on top of him, gasping, whimpering, pleading for more and more, till you are left crying in pleasure and overstimulation. He wondered how you would taste like. How you would sound like, when he would suck at your clit just right — he thought about your mouth and how it would be like to kiss you. How you would wrap your lips around his skin, his cock…His eyes then flicker to the closed doors briefly. He wanted you — all of you, but not right now. However he will give you exactly, what you want and need.
You are left puzzled for a moment, when he suddenly pulls away from you, feet hitting the floor. He sits back, lifting his lower half a little and at that you notice the outline of his cock pressing against his sweats. You bite your lip at the prominent outline of him, watching him spread his legs wider, before he lightly taps his thighs. “Come here–“ He says, leaning back onto the couch. Your desperation makes you not skip a beat, all shame leaving the room from seeing him worked up just like you are. You sit up, crawling your way up to him, but before you can sit, his hands find your hips. “No, like this.” His strength surprises you, letting him turn you around so your back faces him, lifting you up to sit you on his lap. You feel it — his chest rising under you, his breath on the side of your neck as he pushes your hair to the side, his cock pressing right against your ass as you come to sit between his open thighs. His lips find your skin straight away, hands running over your legs and you gasp lightly, when you suddenly lift your gaze to the mirrors infront of you, only finding him watching you the whole time. “I want you to see–“ Jeongin watches your eyes trace over his hands that lightly tweak at your thighs. “What exactly were you imagining?”
He wants you to say it, even if he knows it, even if he feels you shaking under his hands. Your eyes briefly close to savor the feeling, twitching on his lap, making you press your backside harder to his cock. You feel him chasing the feeling, hips lifting you up a little to make you bounce one more time. It makes you gush even more, legs opening and closing, trying to ease the ache between your legs. You are in haze, completely drunk of him and you don’t care about anything but his touch anymore. “Your hands on me…” You say, the confession making his hands stop at the waistband of your sweatpants, fingers grazing over your exposed skin.
His lips press against your skin, biting down a little, making you feel the smile on his face, before you even see it. The sight is so dirty — so everything, captivated by how his hand extends over your lower stomach. “Where?” Jeongin is teasing, getting off your frustration, watching a sweet frown fall on your face .
“Please, just–“ You move around on his lap, the another graze of your bottom half across his cock, making him hiss lightly, before you see him putting one of his hands back in your hair.
Jeongin tugs lightly, your head tilting to your shoulder, meeting his wild gaze in the mirror. “I can give you what you want, you just have to ask nicely.” You whine at that, few tears gathering in the corners of your eyes, glimmering in the soft light in the room.
You are done fighting against the last bits of your self respect, cunt clenching again, when his fingers on you travel lower, till you feel them dipping under your sweats. “Jeongin — I want your fingers, please–“ There is no time to waste if he wants to give you what you want and your sweet voice echoes around him like a siren.
He turns to look down at you, tugging your head so it faces his and he curses at the pout you give him. Your lashes are wet, bottom lip quivering and that action makes his eyes roll into the back of his head. “Fuck–“ He kisses you again, briefly yet messily, moaning with you as his tongue rolls against yours, before he pushes away again, small string of saliva connecting you two. Both of his hands find your waist again, rolling the soft material between his fingers, tugging a little. “Take these off.” Your skips a beat at his words, shaking hands finding his.
You pull your sweatpants off, with his help, lifting yourself up a little and as you kick them off your legs, sitting back again, the feel of his cock is much more intense than before. You gasp as he moves a little so he is right between your cheeks, eyes opening wide at the sheer size of him. Your eyes then meet his again, but now in the mirror, following his line of sight to the dark, wet spot on your underwear. “Look–“ You already are — watching him and his hands traveling down your legs, the feeling making you press against him even more.
His hands are hot and heavy, gripping at the meat of your thighs, when you just a little bit close them at the sight of your juices coating your skin. Your smell is intoxicating, the feel of you trembling just as his finger dips lightly inside your thighs is addicting. Jeongin is staring straight on the wet spot infront of your black panties, low light hitting your slick skin just right. You jerk at the first ever touch of his fingers — they press against you, right over your puffy clit, the small move more than enough to make you moan. “Fuck, you are dripping–“ You whimper in response, looking down at how his fingers are getting coated with your juices.
“More–“ You say, already loosing your mind at how his fingers just keep pressing and not moving. Your hole clenches at the thought his fingers dipping into you. Even though if your tone is whiny, borderline desperate he takes it in a way that makes him snap a little.
“Yeah? Want me to fuck you, with my fingers?” You are still having a whiplash from his sudden change of behavior, but you only lean more into it. You nod wildly, head turning to look at him, but his gaze doesn’t meet yours, because you suddenly feel him tugging at the flimsy material of your underwear. He pulls them to the side, making them snap a little when he releases them. Cold air kisses your slick cunt then, you shivering lightly, shaking, when his fingers just barely graze over you. You don’t even have time too look down, mind to hazy from the quick touch. You don’t even look, when one of his hands come to grip at the side of your neck — not when his other, coated with your juices comes to press against your lips.
“Open.”
Your lips fall apart in a gasp, making it for him all too easier to shove his two fingers inside your mouth, pressing them down at your tongue. Your mouth wraps around his digits instantly, sucking lightly the taste of your sweetness inside your mouth. But then you look — you see how his own eyes gloss over, mouth opening as you lightly bite down at the tips of his fingers. The look you give him makes his other hand travel to the front of your throat, making a loud sound escape you, when he suddenly rips his hand away from your lips, maneuvering your head back to face your reflection as he finally moves to touch you.
His already used hand comes to cup you, his palm digging into you, smearing your wetness all over your skin and his hand. “Soaked–“ Jeongin groans with you, hand on your throat squeezing a little and he can feel how that action makes your clit twitch under his fingers. Small, precise circles are made, him expertly moving the hood of your clit away to touch you more deeply — it is even better than you imagined. He is so mean about it too…Pressing you against his chest, with his hand on your throat, making you watch yourself in the mirror, while he plays with you. His rolls your bud between his fingers, pinching it lightly, the small pain just a low, addicting buzz. Your stomach twists, body burning and jerking over his cock, that he keeps pushing into you.
Your breathing is fast, matching his, eyes on yours reflection instead of looking down and the sight makes your stomach flip. It almost feels forbidden — you feel more exposed. Jeongin swipes his fingers over you, extending them to get every inch of you touched. He traces over your slit, each time his fingers dipping lower and lower, watching you clench over nothing. You feel blood rushing to your face, little bit self conscious of being in such exposing position and him still being clothed, while you are spread wide open, but everything is way too good to say anything about it. “So wet, that I could slide right in–“ You gasp when his ring and middle finger slide lower.
“Please — I want it–“ You keep repeating it, head rolling back to rest on his shoulder, but you only receive a tight squeeze to your throat.
“Then look.” You do — him helping you look back at your reflection, just as his fingers dig deeper into you. There is no resistance, you are so wet you can feel yourself dripping down on the couch. You twitch a little at the sensation, mind swirling. His long fingers slide inside you quick, too quick for you to breathe through it. However only your body knows its limits and you are not even surprised that you only suck them right in.
Jeongin is losing his mind over, how your velvety walls keep closing onto him — so soft and slippery. The thought of him sliding inside you instead is great, hips lifting both of your bodies in hopes he would get closer to your cunt, only making his fingers go deeper in you. You whimper, eyes almost closing at the way the tips of his fingers reach your cervix, palm of his hand grazing over your clit. His other fingers then hook around you, wrist twisting, before he starts to scissor his fingers inside you, searching. “You have touched yourself to this?” He mumbles lowly, lips against your neck. “You wanted this for so long, that you imagined it every time I would just barely touch you–“ No question — he knows.
“Wonder if I can make you squirt–“
A cry leaves you, when he suddenly at that curls his fingers inside you, palm moving against your clit. The idea of you doing that is unfamiliar. You have never done that, you have never even been close to it, but the way his fingers reach so easily to the one gummy spot inside you, tells you he might be able to do it way to easily. “Don’t stop — Jeongin-“ You moan his name, when he starts to trust his fingers inside you, curling them up each time they slide into you.
“You are…so–“ He is a little lost for words. The way your body reacts to his touch — hips lifting to chase his touch, your nails digging into his hand still holding your throat, though not clawing at it for him to stop — your other holding his, that keeps thrusting into you…He is drooling. Wet, nasty sounds fill the room, his fingers increasing on speed, but now more pushing against you so his palms keeps hitting your clit. You are moaning, gasping, music to his ears, however even if he knows that no one can hear you inside this room, he also knows that when you would go close enough to the door you could probably hear the filthy noises coming from you both.
Jeongin’s hand on your throat leaves you, making you gulp in air, but your mouth is only able to take in few breaths, before his hands clasps it. “Shhhh— you don’t want them to hear, right?” Your eyes widen at that, loud moans of pleasure turning into whimpers as you wildly shake your head. “Huh…still I bet you would like that–“ His words makes you clench down on his fingers, tips of them now just curling inside you, palm moving against you.
You are way too easy — you already feel you lower tummy rumbling in the way too familiar pleasure, moaning against his hand as he moves his other to push his thumb against you. You are starting be aware of everything around you — from the way he keeps whispering sweet, nasty nothings into your ear, hot air blowing against your skin. How he moans every time your hips press against his, how you both look like nothing, but sin in the mirror — where are you and what are you doing right now, knowing your friends might be back any minute. Your wildest dreams coming true — him fucking you with his delicious fingers, feeling every vein pressing against you…is all too much for your body to handle.
Then with one particular push of his thumb against your clit, fingers not losing any rhythm, scissoring, curling, you slide a little down on the couch. Your leaking cunt and sweat is making it too easy for you to slide off, but then his hand on your mouth comes to catch you before you could run away from the immense pleasure. He tsks again at your doings, small breath, like a laugh, leaving him, hand grasping your thigh, before hooking it around his. That only makes his fingers go deeper into you, hitting your cervix each time. You are huffing, choking to get air back inside your lungs as you start to shake around him.
Jeongin notices your change way too quickly, turning his head from your reflection to your tear stained face. “Gonna cum, baby?” The nickname makes you whimper pathetically, eyes barely open, but they don’t leave the mirror in fear he would stop. “You don’t even know, how much better I can fuck you, with my cock–“ Your breath hitches, pleading for him not to stop talking, his words just pushing you more and more to the edge. You have never knew, only dreamed about him talking to you like this — the words, even so unexpected, making you run hot, seemingly coming off way more natural than you would have thought.
You are shaking harshly, feeling heat washing over you, mewling at the way he keeps the delicious pace. Your head rolls to the side, teary eyes meeting his and he almost coos at the way you are having such a hard time to keep them open. Your legs keep closing, but he doesn’t let you move away, hand digging into your thigh so deep you know it will mark — and he does want to mark you with purpose, even though he decided that he would probably never let anyone get close enough to see it…though the mark on your neck says otherwise. You feel it — the burn inside you, the way your body keeps chasing the pleasure, face screwing up, mouth open and slick, droll running down your face.
“Fuck – I’m gonna–“ You start to breathe in series of gasps, gaze shooting back to the mirror and then back to him again.
With your sharp moan, Jeongin kisses you again, deep groan leaving the deepest part of his chest as he feels your body stilling. Your vision turns white, your ears ring, head rolling back in ecstasy as your hands fly to grasps his arm to ground your self. The orgasm is so strong it leaves you voiceless, silent scream leaving you, but then…it doesn’t stop — he doesn’t stop. His hand moves, but only so it doesn’t touch your twitching clit, only to start trusting his fingers inside you again with a movement so fast your cry rings in the room. “What are you – Oh, fuck!” You can’t see, your vision is blurry, eyes though still being capable to follow his line of sight.
Jeongin is breathing harshly, tongue poking out of his mouth, watching his fingers disappear inside you. He holds you down the best he can, moaning when he suddenly hears the wet sounds coming from your cunt. Your juices start to splash, your still hot cum leaking out of you and drooling down the couch and you panic at the foreign feeling bubbling inside you. It is too fast, too much — you try to warn him, run away from the intense feeling, but you are too weak to do anything other than tremble on top of him. You are overwhelmed, overstimulation high and you scream as the feeling comes over you. “Come on, just one more — do it, soak my fucking hand–” He silences you for your own good, fingers pushing inside your mouth again to quiet down the loud cry, as the feeling you were trying so hard to hold back wins over.
Before your eyes close, you see yourself squirt around his hand, your juices reaching all the way to the ground and table before you, making you scream in small horror and euphoria. You have never felt something so intense, something so pleasurable that it made you cry. Your body arches off his and Jeongin in his state of awe lets your legs fall shut, his hand still working you up. Everything is a blur for while for you, shaking and quivering, feeling your slick pooling on the couch under you. “Oh, my-“ His hand stills at your small whimper of overstimulation, fingers slowly sliding out of you and he has to push your legs apart to even free his hand.
Jeongin is marveled by the sight before him, eyes drifting over your reflection to you. You are covered in thin sheen of sweat, skin blooming under his touch and he has to stop himself from not going back to give you more. You are spent — done, you almost can’t even move, body slumped weakly against his. His eyes then drift back between your legs, that are finally moving apart, muscles spasming in your legs and exposed tummy. You have soaked everything — your legs, the couch, even the table before you and Jeongin has to bite back a groan at that. He watches you breathe through it, small whimpers still reaching his also ringing ears, however he then decides to lift you off his lap.
You moan in small protest, blinking away your now dried tears, while he stands to grasp the small box of tissues off the marked table. “Here-“ Still a gentleman, even after turning you into a complete mush. He is gentle now, atleast when he goes to wipe away your juices from your body for you, seeing you are too weak to even do it yourself. Your eyes trail over him, watching his eyes clear a little, but there is still that spark, still the reminder of what he did to you just now. You then look down to his still covered cock — he must have adjusted himself, when you weren’t looking, because you can only see just a small imprint of him. The tissues are little too harsh on your sensitive skin, jumping a little at the sensation, but his hand, now softly laying on your naked thigh, calms you.
You are sticky all over, the room hot from the thing you have done, but there is no shame now. Something about the way he cleans you so softly, touch so featherely, eyes bright, you realize that maybe there is something more about to it, then just lust. Though you could not think about it too long, because the silence between you is interrupted, when a loud sound of nearby voices is heard flowing down the hall. “Shit-“ Your eyes widened, scrambling away from him, just as he puts your underwear back over you and you do ignore how it stick to you like a second skin. You don’t look at him, too occupied of grabbing your sweatpants off the floor to notice his lingering stare. You push them up, just as you hear the voices of your friends right outside the door, eyes widening then, when you look to the wet spot next to you. No time to think — your hands push down your wild, messed up hair, pulling them forward, fingers grazing over the sensitive spot on the side of your neck, wiping away the loose spit coating your mouth, before the door opens.
“Hey.” You say, voice scratchy, coughing instantly and you can’t help, but cringe.
The others fill the room, each carrying bags of food that hopefully hides the smell of sex in the room. Your eyes meet Felix’s, who stumbles in last, whose smile still sits on his face, but then gives you a small look of confusion at your tone. “Hey? We brought you something–“ He beams a little as he nears you, while the others come to put the food on the table that thankfully wasn’t the one before you.
The wet spot is hot beside you, a burning reminder of a still fresh memory and you really have hard time to meet the eyes of your best friend at that. “Oh…that’s nice.” You say, eyes drifting away a little, when he suddenly comes to stand before you, eyes full of worry, while yours full of shame and you feel you sick of lying to him.
“Everything good?” He asks you like the sweet friend he is, but his close proximity makes you quiver a little, but you do try to keep the smile on your face, even though you still feel the ghost of his friend’s inside you.
“Yeah-“
“Hey, why is there–“
Your heart stops, head snapping to Hyunjin, who points to the spot next to you, before drifting all the way to the floor and table, while the others come to stand around him. Your mouth opens like a fish, mind crashing to scramble to answer atleast something, when everyone turns to look, but then a voice cuts in to safe you. “Oh, I just spilled some water.” Says Jeongin and no one other than you hears the small tone at the end of his sentence.
Everyone thankfully doesn’t say anything else, but you still don’t meet their eyes, heart beating fast, when you lean over to grab the box of tissues, eyes immediately falling on the rolled up ball of used ones, sitting right on top of the still wet, glass table. “I will clean it.” You say, immediately pulling out multiple of tissues to press them against the wet spot next to you. The light and your shadow thankfully hides the true substance of the liquid and how it slides over the leather.
“Okay, we will just eat on the floor, I guess.” Says someone, you don’t even care who, you only care that Felix and the others go away a little to let you drown in your own embarrassment. You will probably never let anyone sit on the spot ever again — in a twisted, sick way you have now marked it as yours. The rooms fills with chatter and laughter again, plastic bags rustling in the silent panic you are experiencing, before pair of piercing eyes, makes you look up.
Jeongin stares at you, with a teasing glint in his eyes, that only you catch. And then — right then, he puts the exact same fingers that have been inside you into his mouth, tongue swiping across his digits, before he bites down on the tips of his fingers — a move that only highlights the crazed smile grazing his lips and by that, you already know you are in for a wild ride.
your best friend, minho, takes you on a weekend trip in the mountains after you get dumped a week before valentine's day
pairing: bff!soft dom!minho x fem!reader
genre: fluff, hurt/comfort (mentally + physically), smut
content: bffs to lovers, one bed trope, kissing, minho gets pants-ed (lovingly), dry humping, fingering, unprotected sex (p in v)
word count: 6.5k
a/n: blonde lee know has a chokehold on me. i know he’s so bad at sports but for some reason i feel like he’d be good at snowboarding. idk let me have this. everyone writes mean dom lee know but i love the idea that he’s soft with the people he loves. minimally proofread. this is a (late) valentine's day present, i hope you enjoy ♡
♡ m.list
The snowy mountains come into focus as you’re riding in the passenger seat of Minho’s car. The car radio is playing some old indie rock band you like, and the windows are cracked slightly to let a cool breeze in. You look over at Minho, his blonde strands of hair swaying underneath his beanie, and everything feels much better than it did a week ago.
Because a week ago, you found out your boyfriend was cheating on you. A week before Valentine’s Day. You’d been with him for a couple of years, and even considered moving in together, until you found out. It shattered you, of course it did, but one phone call later your best friend was at your doorstep with pudding and tissues to console you.
Minho was always there for you. From grade school to college to now, there was never a doubt in your mind that if you needed him, he’d come. Even when the two of you were in relationships, you took the space you needed out of respect for your partners but always made an effort to hang out every once in a while. Your ex didn’t like him, said he was cold and made bad jokes. But that’s just Minho.
He looks over at you and turns the radio down. Your temple is pressed to the glass and you’re staring blankly at the passing trees.
“You okay?” he asks, keeping his eyes on the road.
“Yeah,” you let out with a sigh, looking over to him and cracking a shy smile. “I’m just excited for this weekend.” He reaches over to grab your hand and give it a light squeeze.
His presence alone has been your sole source of comfort the past week, coming over after work almost daily with takeout in hand and a box of tissues. Most of the time you don’t really talk, you just sit together on the couch and watch movies until you’re ready to go to sleep.
“Try not to think about it too much, yeah?” he says, grabbing your coffee from the cup holder and handing it to you. You smile at him, his kindness always catching you off guard but never taken for granted by you. The little things matter, you think to yourself.
The car pulls down a dirt road and you drive a couple of miles before reaching the cabin. It’s a quaint log cabin, with a good size deck and a cozy fireplace. It’s older, but charming and cozy. Plus, the owners just installed a hot tub on the back deck with a beautiful view of the snowy mountains. You told Minho the hot tub was non-negotiable, and he complied.
You step into the cozy atmosphere, the lights flickering on as you take in the space. It’s really small. Which is what you get when you book a trip during Valentine’s Day weekend with only a couple days notice. Your eyes flick from the kitchen to the small sofa, up to the loft overhead where you see the bed taking up most of the space up there.
“Minho, where am I sleeping?” You ask him as you realize there’s no way there’s another bedroom in this cabin.
“You can sleep upstairs, I’ll take the couch,” he says smiling as he lugs your duffel bag over his head to put in the loft.
“Minho, you’re taking me on this trip, at least take the bed,” you complain to him. That sofa fits maybe two people, and you know it’ll kill his neck if he’s on it all weekend. “I’m small enough to fit on that tiny ass couch anyway.”
“We can switch off, just take it tonight and I’ll take it tomorrow.” He squeezes your shoulders and smiles, as he continues to lug his bag and some groceries in. You offer to help, but of course, he declines and tells you to lay out on the couch. You pull out your phone for some doom scrolling, but sure enough the tiny letters at the top say “No Signal”. He knew if you had internet access you’d spend all weekend obsessing over what your ex was doing, who he was doing it with.
Minho finishes unpacking his things into the kitchen and storage chest in the living area and settles down with you on the couch. You lean your head on his shoulder and he lets out a sigh. “Thank you for doing this for me,” you say quietly once the silence started getting comfortable.
“That’s what friends are for,” he says back, planting a kiss on the top of your head. This kind of physical affection was nothing new to the two of you, often getting mistaken for being a couple in public. You never corrected anyone, but it made you giggle a little bit. You showed it much less if either of you were in relationships, but became a lot touchier if you were sad. It always made you feel better knowing he’d never shy away from you when you really needed it.
As the sky started to darken, and you both had comfortably showered and settled into pjs, Minho got started on dinner. Bulgogi and rice with a side of cucumber salad, one of your comfort meals. He was an incredible cook, he knew how to make everything taste perfect and timed everything so it all came out the perfect temperature when it was time to eat.
You followed him like a puppy, hovering over him and resting your chin on his shoulder. He moved around you with ease, sometimes moving you out of the way so he didn’t hit you as he turned. You tried to sneak a few bites in, but he always smacked your hand out of the way.
“Ay, not yet!” he said as he playfully shooed you away. You whined a bit, but moved to the other side of the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine and pour into glasses for each of you.
The air shifts when you sit down to eat. He knows what’s on your mind, and he tries to talk about your plans for the weekend to distract you. It helps some, until you stop talking and it feels even more awkward.
“You deserve much, much better than whatever that guy had to offer,” he mentions, like he already knows your mind has slipped back into thinking of your ex. You realize how little time you’ve spent with Minho the past few years, and you feel a tinge of guilt.
“I’m sorry I haven’t really tried to see you,” you say apologetically. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m just using you because I’m lonely or something.”
“Don’t apologize, I know how it is. Plus, that guy hated me,” he lets out a laugh. “I’m surprised I got to see you at all. I’m just glad we’re here now.” You admire the way he’s able to say things so matter-of-factly, like nothing ever bothers him. You intend to adopt his mindset for the weekend, and maybe even the foreseeable future.
You help Minho clean up dinner and when you start to settle again, he leans close to you and whispers, “Last one in the hot tub has to make breakfast.” You let out a gasp and run up to the loft to change into a bathing suit, and he sprints to the bathroom. He always has a trick up his sleeve.
You meet at the glass door that leads to the deck and you both stop to look outside. It’s freezing, and the hot tub is at least 20 feet across the deck. You turn to him and you both smile, lunging for the door handle at the same time. You were not losing this.
You’re both shoving each other as your bare feet patter on the wood deck. He reaches the steps before you do, and you tug his swim shorts down and slip past him before he can make it in.
“Ya! That’s so unfair,” he laughs, splashing water at you as he pulls his shorts back up and sits down.
“C’mon, you know you don’t want my burnt ass eggs in the morning,” you sputter out, laughing with him.
He relaxes in the seat next to you, your thighs brushing his. You slouch a bit to get as much of your body in the warm, bubbly water as possible. It’s incredibly relaxing, your shoulders feeling looser already as you look up at all the stars in the sky and just exist alongside him.
Minho lets out a long sigh next to you. “You know, I think I really needed this too,” he says. You tilt your head to face him and study his expression. He looks relaxed, but like there’s something he’s not telling you.
“Trouble in paradise?” you ask him, referring to his own relationship. He and his girlfriend have been on again off again for what feels like a decade at this point.
“Uh…I’ve been single for about six months now,” he says. You jerk your head up, and your jaw drops. Six months? Has it really been that long since you last spoke?
“Minho! Why didn’t you tell me?” you exclaim, giving him a playful slap to the shoulder. “I would’ve been there for you!”
“It’s fine, I’m over it now. I had a lot of things to think through on my own.” He’s holding eye contact with you, and you scan his face for any sign he might be lying. He’s so damn hard to read, always making it seem like he’s okay even when he isn’t.
“Still, I’m sorry to hear about it. I…liked her.”
“Liar.”
“No, seriously, she was…nice.”
“You groaned the last time we got back together.”
“I just didn’t like how you kept going back to her.” Your voice is softer now, like you didn’t want him to fully hear you. “Like she’d dump you, and then come running back and apologize like it made up for all the hurt she caused. She didn’t deserve you.”
He doesn’t say anything for a few moments. He rests his elbow on the edge of the tub to fully face you, and his hand comes up to trace circles on your shoulder. He takes a deep breath like he’s nervous for what he’s about to say next.
“She tried calling me a few weeks ago. I didn’t answer. I think I’ve been done for a long time now, I just needed some clarity.” He’s smiling now, and you can tell a weight has been lifted off his shoulders.
“As long as you’re happy, that’s all I care about,” you smile back at him. He scoots closer to pull you into a hug, and you feel yourself relax even further into him. His shoulders feel firmer than the last time you saw each other. He even dyed his hair blonde. You wonder if anything else has changed about him, too.
“I’m happy when I’m with you,” he whispers to you, and for the first time all week, you feel like everything will be okay.
You wake up to the smell of eggs, not burning, and fresh coffee being made below you. The loft setup was neat, you could look straight through the massive windows and see the mountains towering over the cabin, or lean against the railing and watch Minho cooking. This morning you chose the latter.
He was humming to himself and dancing a bit, swaying his hips and moving his shoulders to whatever rhythm was in his head. You liked watching him being his goofy self, not a care in the world, despite the heavier conversations you’ve had recently.
“Don’t burn the eggs,” you call down, still groggy from sleep. He looks up at you, his startled expression turning into a smile.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” he chirps, ears turning red at the fact that you probably caught him dancing. “Breakfast is ready.”
You gather yourself, brush your teeth, and throw on warmer clothes before going downstairs. The food is warm and delicious, and you’re silently glad to be taken care of. Minho is always so attentive, and it’s nice being the one taken care of for a change.
“What’s the plan for today?” you ask him, stuffing your mouth with eggs.
He responds with a shrug. “Whatever you want to do!” For being such a good planner, he was still willing to let loose and go with the flow. You appreciated him for not coming up with any kind of strict schedule for the two of you.
You both settled on going for a morning walk in town before skiing at the local resort. The town was a quaint ski town, with lots of tourists during the winter months. The shops were older, Tudor-style buildings nestled in the low valley between the mountains. A light layer of snow coated the buildings, and the atmosphere was calm despite there being more people than usual.
The two of you just strolled around, making your way through some of the shops. It started getting crowded in the late morning, so Minho suggested taking a stroll through the park. It being the middle of winter, the paths were clear of people and only a light layer of snow on the ground.
“This is nice,” you say quietly, referring to the quiet environment and the surrounding park. In the springtime, the gardens bloomed and the sun shone brightly on the area. But it was still nice, even without the flowers' pretty colors.
Minho stopped at a rose bush on the side of the path. The roses had a dusting of snow on them, and you were curious how they had survived so long. He reached his hand out and plucked one of the stems with a red rose attached to it. He twirled it between his fingers, and gently handed it to you.
“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, careful to avoid the thorns as you took the rose from him.
“Delicate yet strong. Like you,” he said nonchalantly, flashing you a smile. You stopped in your tracks for a moment while he kept walking forward. It was such a small gesture, but it meant so much. He still saw you as someone with a lot of strength, despite how broken you’ve felt lately. Minho was good at that.
He kept walking forward as you trailed a few paces behind him. Towards the end of the path he stopped suddenly, turning toward you with wide eyes.
“Do you hear that?” he asked. You shook your head.
He crept closer to the bushes and crouched down. You crouched down with him, unsure of what you were supposed to be looking at. A few moments later a grey tabby cat emerged, and slowly walked towards you two. Minho dipped into his pocket and pulled out a Churu packet, opening it and beckoning the cat closer.
“You just…have those with you?” you asked, puzzled.
“I like making friends with them,” he said, as the cat brushed up against his leg and started eating the treat. Minho the cat whisperer, you thought to yourself. It was endearing seeing him care for such an innocent creature. He scratched the cat's head, cooing at it lovingly. You just looked at him, a wide grin on his face, completely in his element.
And suddenly, you realize this is all you ever wanted. A calm, quiet kind of love. Not one that sneaks up on you, but one that was always there.
You’re standing at the top of the snowy hill, dressed in snow gear from head to toe, skis strapped to your feet and poles in hand. You look over at Minho while he’s strapping his snowboard to his boots.
“Ready?” He asks, fastening his helmet to his head. You were not ready. You’ve gone skiing a couple of times in your life, but you always forgot how to do anything the second you found yourself back on the hill.
You shake your head at him, slightly terrified, but mostly excited. “Just remember, pizza!” He says, referring to the position he taught you for slowing down.
“Are you sure this is a beginner hill?” you say to him, questioning your choices.
“Define beginner,” he laughs back.
“Minho!”
“I’m kidding! Look, there's a 6-year-old who can do this hill. You’ll be fine. I’m right behind you.”
That makes you feel slightly better, but you take a deep breath and head down the hill anyway. You want this weekend to be fun for both of you.
It only takes a second for muscle memory to kick in, and then you’re moving down the slope with ease. You’re on the side of the hill, away from all the people, and you’re calling back to Minho about how much fun you’re having. You catch a glimpse of him gliding down the hill on his snowboard, snow kicking up with every graceful movement, hips moving effortlessly as he maneuvers around people. You can’t help but smile to yourself, he looks so happy.
You both go up and down the hill for a couple of hours before you begin to tire. “One more, then lunch?” Minho says to you on the ski lift. Right when you nod your head to agree, you see him wince as he stretches his neck and shoulders.
“Minho, if the couch is killing your back, let me sleep on it tonight,” you say, rubbing his shoulder. You could tell his shoulder was bothering him, and you could only imagine how his back was feeling after a day of snowboarding as well.
“I’m fine,” he says assuringly. “Truly, I want you to be comfortable. It’s only a couple of nights.” He’s so damn stubborn. You roll your eyes, but you know when his mind is set on something, it’s hard to change it.
You slide off the ski lift for the last time and start to head down the hill, Minho trailing not far behind. The day stayed mostly overcast, but the trees and mountains against the clouds were beautiful. You glide down the hill with ease, slowing to watch as people learn to ski and snowboard. Everyone seemed so happy.
You don’t notice the rock hiding at the edge of the tree line until you crash into it, losing your balance, and faceplant into the snow. You roll a couple of times, but luckily you were towards the end and there wasn’t much hill left to tumble down. The snow stings your face, and you feel a brutal pain in your shoulder as you come to realize what just happened.
Minho screams your name as he rushes over to help. “Shit, are you okay?” he asks as he frantically unstraps himself from his board and kneels beside you.
You’re able to roll over on your back, letting out a groan as the pain throughout your body starts to hit. You’re positive there will be bruises on your ribs when you wake up tomorrow. He helps you up, takes off your skis, and supports you as you step out of them. Your legs feel fine, but your upper body aches. He drapes one of your arms over his shoulder and holds your waist firmly as he walks you over to the medic tent.
“I’m okay, really, I promise,” you say to the staff member as he’s checking you out. You’re definitely in pain, and Minho is certainly not convinced.
“It’s just a precaution, to make sure you have no concussion or broken bones,” the staff member says to you as he feels around your ribs. Minho’s holding your hand, tracing small circles with his thumb, watching you intently. You have a feeling that it’s more for him than it is for you, but you still enjoy the comfort, especially with someone poking at all the places that hurt.
“Nothing’s broken or bleeding, but you’ll definitely have some nasty bruises in the morning,” the medic says to you. “A warm bath and ice for any swelling, and go to the hospital if anything gets worse.” You nod your head at him and put your jacket back on, and Minho helps you out of the tent.
“Minho, I can walk just fine,” you laugh as he’s still holding you up by your waist, walking you back to the car. He makes eye contact for a moment, and you study his face. He’s flushed, no doubt from the cold and exercise, and his hair is messy from the helmet. A look of worry is plastered on his face, but he lets you go gently.
You walk on your own back to the car, but he still helps you into your seat and buckles you in. You stop protesting so much. He likes being helpful, and he’s clearly worried about you, no matter how much you assure him that you’re fine.
The caretaking doesn’t stop back at the cabin, either. Not that you expected it to, or even wanted it to. It was nice having him fawn over you. It made you feel loved in a way you haven’t felt in a long time. He helps you inside the house and sits you down in a chair to help you take off your boots and winter gear. He walks you into the bathroom and starts a bath for you, and gently tugs on your shirt to lift it over your head. Your hand reacts before your brain can catch up, stopping him.
“Let me take a look,” he says gently, scanning your face for any sign of discomfort. He’s seen you shirtless countless times, for years now, in swimsuits where you’re wearing much less clothing. This, however, feels more intimate. You nod your head at him, letting him take your shirt off and inspect your torso.
A bright red splotch crawls up your side, already starting to turn purple around your ribs. You hiss at the contact, his hands still cold from outside.
“Sorry,” he says quickly, moving your shirt to the counter. “Does it hurt?”
“Yes, but it’s fine, your hands are just cold,” you say, laughing a bit at how apologetic he is.
“Does it hurt anywhere else?”
“My shoulder, I think I landed on it funny.”
“Yeah, the judges gave it a 6/10.” You smack him at that one.
“I’m serious, it hurts.” You whine, and he moves your hair and shifts to your right to get a closer look.
“It’s red, and it’ll probably bruise tomorrow. Good thing you’re taking the bed!” He smiles at you like he’s won the argument you’ve been having the whole weekend. You roll your eyes at him, but you can’t disagree.
“We can share, okay? No more bad shoulders for us, we only have 2/4 left,” you tell him, trying to be stern. He raises his eyebrow at you.
“If you wanted to get me into bed, you should’ve just asked—”
“Get out!” You smack him playfully, and he holds his hands up in surrender as you shoo him out of the room.
The bath is nice and the warm, bubbly water eases a lot of the pain you just endured. Your mind wanders to the events of the last few hours, how everything happened. How Minho’s face looked when you fell. How he held you up, how he held your hand, how he touched your skin, how close he got to your face. You feel your heart beating faster when you snap out of it and climb out of the tub.
Minho already has dinner made when you get out. A nice hearty soup, it’s warm and smells heavenly. You both sit at the table, your hair’s still wet from the bath and he’s still in his ski clothes.
“Thank you,” you say as you sip on the soup. Minho’s the best cook you know, and you’re thankful that he’s the one taking charge in the kitchen.
After dinner is cleaned up, he showers, changes into comfy clothes, and pours you both a glass of wine to help you wind down from the day. You’re playing cards at the coffee table by the fireplace and just chatting away.
“My mom called, says she misses you,” he says gently.
“Tell her I miss her too, and now hopefully I can come and see her now that…” you say, trying not to mention your ex. You realize it’s the first time you’ve really thought about him all day. And the first time it doesn’t make you sad.
He looks at you with sorrow in his eyes. You gently place your hand on his, and look at him to say, “I’m okay, I promise. I’ve been having so much fun I haven’t even thought about him until just now.”
“That’s good. You already know you deserve better,” he says, placing his other hand on yours.
“I know,” you nod. “You too.”
The bathroom sink lights flicker slightly while you change into your pjs. You can’t stand wearing pants to bed, no matter how cold it is outside. The big t-shirt you wear hides not much more than your butt, hitting right along your middle thigh.
Minho’s lying on the couch when you come out. “I don’t think so, mister,” you say to him sternly. He looks at you, smirk on his face, and you gesture to the loft above.
“Fine, but you’re a space heater in your sleep, stay on your side of the bed,” he says back, rolling his eyes.
You get situated on the inside of the bed closest to the railing, and Minho climbs in after you. He breathes out a sigh of relief, feeling exhausted after a long ass day. Your heart starts racing as you both lie there, inches apart.
“Goodnight,” you say, turning to him.
“Goodnight, sweet dreams,” he says back to you. An eerie quiet falls over the cabin. It’s pitch black save for the bit of moonlight that peeks through the trees, and you can hear his breathing as it steadies.
You move your hand ever so slightly until you feel his, and just hold it there. He laces his fingers between yours and you can feel your pulse quicken, and your breath getting shaky. Neither of you moves or speaks, and once the nerves die down you quickly drift off to sleep.
You jolt awake in the middle of the night, absolutely freezing despite being under several layers of blankets. You sit up to try and investigate, but your bruised torso starts aching when you try. Minho stirs beside you as you let out a low groan.
“Minho,” you whisper, trying not to startle him. It doesn’t work, and he’s still fast asleep. You resort to nudging him with your foot.
“Ay!” he lets out as he jolts awake. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” He immediately comes to and leans over to look at you.
“Uh…it’s just really cold in here,” you whisper, putting your cold foot on his leg.
“Jesus, your feet are cold. Let me see what’s wrong with the heat.” He gets up and throws his hoodie on, and heads downstairs to check it out. You hear him flick the lights on, but the room stays dark.
“Well, that’s probably why,” he says, laughing in disbelief. You lean over the edge of the railing and you see what he’s talking about. The snow outside is coming down hard. The wind is knocking the tree tops together, and you can only assume the whole town is without power.
Minho lets out a deep breath and heads over to the fireplace. He put out the fire hours ago, but the cabin is small enough that he’s hoping it’ll give you both at least a bit of heat upstairs. You watch as he takes firewood from the stack and kindles the fire. He starts the fire and makes sure the screen is tight and that there’s nothing that can easily catch in front of it.
He comes back upstairs with an extra set of blankets and leans over the bed to throw one of them over you. You’re shivering, even under three layers of blankets, praying for warmth.
The bed dips as he climbs back into it, and he snakes his arm under your head to pull you close, taking care not to put weight on your bad shoulder. Your head settles into his chest and you catch a whiff of his cologne, the smell of him makes your heart flutter.
“What are you doing?” You whisper against him as he holds you tight. He rests his chin on the top of your head, letting out a deep breath. Surely he can feel your heart pounding out of your chest.
“I’m keeping you warm,” he says simply, but you catch the faintest sense of nervousness in his voice. Your hand is on his side, and you slowly move it under the hem of his shirt. His skin is warm, and he hisses at the contact of your cold hand.
You pull back slightly to look up at him, your hand drifting across his abs. You didn’t notice that he had a six pack the other night in the hot tub, but your skin grows warmer as you trace every single muscle. His breathing gets shakier with every moment that passes, and he opens his eyes to look at you.
His hand comes up from your back to move a stray strand of hair out of your face, and then rests gently cupping your jaw. You’re not sure what might happen, what it might mean, but you know that you want it. You want him.
You can’t stop staring at his lips. They’re perfectly plump, pink, and parted slightly so his front teeth peek out. He’s only inches from your face, and you bite your lip to refrain from babbling nonsense. You’re too nervous to make the first move, or to say anything really.
You don’t have to say anything. He already knows by the way you’re looking at him, eyes full of want. He looks at you the same way. You’re holding your breath now in anticipation, waiting for him. He leans in slowly, scanning your face just before you touch, just in case you want to pull back. You respond by closing your eyes and he closes the gap. Your lips meet, and you exhale into him.
The kiss is tender, gentle in a way that’s precious. You’re only slightly stiff for a moment before relaxing into his touch, your lips moving in rhythm with his. It’s better than you could have ever dreamed of, and the only thing that matters is this moment right here, right now.
He pulls back for only a moment. “Jagiya,” he whispers. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.”
“Don’t stop,” you reply.
The next kiss is hungrier, and his hand drifts down to your thigh, hiking it over his side. You grind into him on reflex and you can feel how hard he is beneath his sweatpants. You let out a moan into his mouth and he moves his hand to squeeze your ass, guiding you as you move against him.
You move your hand to his neck, deepening the kiss as your tongue meets his. He tastes delicious, and you move your hips harder and faster into him. He lets out a moan pulling you hard against him.
Your body feels like it’s on fire now, and you need more of him now. You feel your cunt throbbing against his length, and you tug his shirt up to take it off. He rolls you on your back gently, breaking the kiss to kneel above you to yank it off. He pulls up on the hem of your shirt next, and you sit up slightly to help him get you out of it.
The cold air hits you and your nipples harden immediately. He continues to kiss you, resting on his arm and moving his other hand to knead your breast. You moan at the contact and wrap your legs around his hips to bring him closer to the spot you’re on fire. His mouth moves down your jawline, leaving a trail of soft kisses. He gets to your neck and you lean your head to give him better access. He kisses and sucks on it gently, and your moans get louder and higher pitched. Everything is so much, and yet not enough. The friction between your legs causes a heat in your belly to pool, and you scratch at his back as his hips continue to roll into yours.
“Minho, please,” you whimper. “I need you.”
“Okay, jagiya. Just tell me if you want me to stop,” he whispers against your skin. You nod your head frantically as you pull him back into another kiss.
He takes his hand from your chest and gently moves it down your body. You start to tremble, desperate to feel him between your legs. His fingers ghost against your core and you feel the wetness of your panties sticking to your folds. His mouth dips down to your chest as he licks across your breast, taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking gently. You gasp, and your hands fly to his hair, gripping slightly as he moves against you.
He brings his head up and moves his hand away from your heat, and you whimper at the loss. His hands come up and he takes two fingers into his mouth, wetting them gently. His hand comes back down, slips underneath your panties, and he sinks them into you.
“Fuck, Minho,” you gasp as he fucks into you slowly, lowering his head back down to your breast, sucking gently on your neglected nipple. “Oh my god, that feels so good.” He responds by humming against you, and you can’t help but buck into his touch.
“So needy,” he says as he pulls back, looking up at you. “Let me take my time with you, jagi.” You whine at him and pull him back into another kiss. He slips a third finger into you and your eyes roll back into your head, your stomach knotting as he picks up his speed.
His thumb makes contact with your clit and your muscles tighten, your whimpers louder and more erratic. “Not yet,” he whispers in your ear as he pulls his hand completely away from you. You’ve completely ruined your underwear at this point, the cool fabric sending a shock through you. He stands off the bed to tug them off of you, tossing them on the floor. He stares at you as he slowly unties his sweats, shimmying them off his hips and onto the floor. You watch as he drops his boxers next, his cock flinging out and against his stomach. He’s huge, and you whimper slightly at the thought of him stretching you out.
He climbs back on top of you, kissing you again, and you grab onto his waist impatiently. He chuckles into your mouth.
“Are you sure?” he asks again. “I didn’t exactly bring a condom on a trip with my best friend.”
“Aw, I’m touched,” you say sarcastically. “Yes, god Minho please fuck me.”
He slots himself between your legs and you wrap yours around his waist. He guides himself to your entrance and gently presses in. Only the head is inside and you’re already feeling stretched out. His forehead falls to yours, and you both moan in sync as he enters you.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans as he bottoms out. Your arms wrap around his back as he hovers above you, giving both of you time to adjust.
He starts to move and your stomach heats up again. He’s moving slowly but so deep, you can feel him hit your cervix with every thrust. You feel every drag of his length against his walls, the stretch of him feels so fucking good after all of the buildup.
He picks up the pace and kisses you again, fucking you harder into the mattress. He groans as he feels you squeeze around him. “Fuck, don’t do that, or I’m gonna come.” You do it again deliberately and he lets out a growl.
He leans back and his hand moves to your clit, rubbing circles around it, applying just enough pressure to let the heat in your belly rise. Your body starts to tingle, and you feel your peak approaching fast.
“Fuck, don’t stop, holy shit,” you gasp between his thrusts. He applies slightly more pressure, slamming his hips into you. The mattress squeaks loudly underneath you, the sound just barely audible over your moans.
“Minho—fuck, I’m gonna—“ you sputter out.
“It’s okay, come for me. I wanna feel you come around me, jagiya,” he coaxes you as he continues to drive into you, thumb moving fast over your nub.
That does it for you, and soon you're a shaking mess underneath him. Your orgasm crashes over you, and your skin feels electric, the warmth spreading throughout your body.
“Jesus, I’m coming,” he says as he’s fucking you through your orgasm, finishing inside of you. You feel his cock spasm inside of you as you’re coming down from your high, and he grunts as he falls on top of you, careful to avoid your previous injuries.
“Fuck, jagi, baby, you’re incredible,” he pants, kissing you again. You’re smiling so wide now, kissing him back as he softens inside of you.
“That’s one way to warm up,” you laugh.
He pulls out of you, and you hiss at the contact, leaking all over the mattress. He grabs a towel and cleans you up, being gentle around your sensitive area. He helps you into a (thankfully fresh) pair of panties and his shirt, and he lies back down to pull you against his chest.
The quiet settles around you, still pitch black in the cabin, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s warm, comforting, and everything you’ve been missing.
“I’m an idiot,” he says softly. You raise an eyebrow at him, confused.
“Uh…you are, but why say that now?” you question.
“I spent the better part of a decade trying to make a relationship work, thinking that it would fill the weird emptiness I was feeling,” he starts, looking back at you. “Only to realize the person I wanted, the person I needed, was right in front of me.”
Your breath catches at his confession. “And…when did you realize that?” You pry.
“About six months ago.” When he finally broke things off with his ex. “I was just waiting for her to realize it, too.”
He looks back down at you, and you can’t hide the smile on your face. He kisses you again, slowly, and suddenly you realize why it never worked out with anybody else.
“I love you, if that wasn’t obvious,” he chuckles.
“I love you too,” you smile at him, resting into his chest.
This, him, everything, is exactly what you needed.
a/n: valentine’s day present is a bit late but it’s not really themed that way anyway haha. i feel like this was boring so pleaseee tell me if you enjoyed it! thank you to everyone who's shown me so much love these past few weeks, i'm hoping my writing is getting better hahaha ♡
singular 'good girl' and i think that's it :) fluff !!
OCTOBER 14
2:34 PM and you're perched on riki's back while he's laying on his stomach on your shared bed, scrolling on his phone. the afternoon light is warm and golden through the window, making his skin glow. you've got a marker in your hand, uncapped as it hovers over his bare shoulders. his back is so broad beneath you, smooth skin and lean muscle.
2:41 PM and you're already drawing, letting your hand move without thinking. curves and lines across his shoulder blades, something delicate and branching on his bare skin. the marker glides smooth and easy and he's so warm beneath you. your thighs bracketing his spine, you can feel every breath he takes, slow and steady but equally calm.
2:58 PM and he shifts slightly under you, adjusting his position. comfortable? you ask, pausing your work. yeah, he mumbles, voice getting drowsy. keep going, it feels nice. so you do, adding more details and watching the design come to life.
3:18 PM and his phone screen has gone dark beside him. his breathing is different now — deeper and even, completely relaxed. riki? you whisper softly. nothing. he's fallen asleep under you, trusting you enough to drift off while you're still drawing on him. something warm blooms in your chest at the realization.
3:34 PM and you're being extra careful now, feather light touches so you don't wake him from his slumber. the design finally coming together, consisting of branches and wings spreading across his shoulder blades — delicate but bold. it feels like him somehow, like growth and freedom and strength all in one.
3:52 PM and you're finally done. your hand is cramping slightly but the drawing looks perfect, better than you imagined. you place the cap on the marker again and just sit there for a moment, admiring your work on his skin, and the way it moves with his breathing. you lean down to press the softest kiss to his cheek, right at the corner of his mouth. his lips are slightly parted in sleep and he looks so peaceful.
4:03 PM and you're climbing off him carefully, slowly, trying not to wake him. the bed dips as you settle beside him and his arm moves automatically in his sleep, reaching for you as if his body knows you're there. you guide it over your waist and tuck yourself against his warm chest, listening to his heartbeat.
4:47 PM and you wake up from your own nap. he's still asleep, breathing steady, arm still around you. you trace lazy patterns on his chest until his eyes flutter open.
6:12 PM and you're both finally awake, stretching the sleep away with a groan. you drew on me, he states, voice rough from sleep. you did fall asleep, you point out. he grins. what'd you draw? curiosity washing over his feautures you'll see eventually, you tease. he tries to look over his shoulder but can't see it properly. guess i'll have to wait then.
8:34 PM and you're both in the kitchen making dinner. he keeps trying to catch a glimpse of the drawing in the reflection of the refrigerator. you're obsessed, you laugh. can you blame me? he counters, pulling you against him. you drew on me. that's like, permanent. he breathes out, it's marker, you say. it'll wash off. he makes a unsatisfactory sound at the thought of it disappearing from his body and kisses your temple.
OCTOBER 15
8:47 AM and you wake up alone. the space beside you is empty but still warm, sheets rumpled around you as they carry the scent of your lover and late night activities. there's a note on the nightstand next to a plate of fresh chocolate chip cookies, still warm. had to run out for something. be back soon. eat these before they get cold. — 𝓡 ♡
9:03 AM and you're eating the cookies slowly, still half-asleep in his oversized shirt. they're perfect, slightly gooey in the center just how you like them. you finish the last one, licking chocolate off your fingers, just as you hear the front door open.
9:17 AM and riki appears in the doorway, hair messy from the outside air, carrying a convenience store bag. you ate all of them? he asks, grinning. you told me to, you remind him. he crosses to the bed and flops down beside you. good girl, he murmurs, kissing your shoulder before biting down on the sensitive skin there.
the days blur together after that, and you assume the marker drawing does the same so you forget about it completely.
OCTOBER 21
11:23 AM and riki's been gone for a few hours. claiming he had errands to run. you're cleaning up the apartment while his hoodie drowning your frame.
2:47 PM and he comes home, moving a little carefully. you okay? you ask. yeah, he says quickly. just sore from the gym. you accept it without question, going back to your book.
5:38 PM and you're both on the couch. he's lying on his stomach with his head in your lap, your fingers running through his hair while you read. he's practically purring under your touch, content and warm.
OCTOBER 28
4:36 PM and you're in the kitchen grabbing snacks. riki reaches up for a mug on the top shelf, the same one you can never seem to reach without a chair to help . his shirt rides up and you see it — dark lines on his skin, permanent dark lines. your drawing. the exact drawing you made on that sleepy october afternoon two weeks ago, now forever inked into his skin.
4:37 PM and you freeze completely, bag of chips long forgotten in your hands. your mouth falls open. riki notices you staring and looks back over his shoulder, a slow smile spreading across his face that makes your stomach flip. finally found it, huh? he says casually, like he didn't just turn your temporary doodle into permanent art on his body.
4:38 PM and you can't seem to move. riki, you finally manage. when did you— you start. a week ago, he softly interrupts you, setting the mug down and turning around fully. he lifts his shirt higher so you can see it fully. surprise?
4:39 PM and you're crossing over to him without thinking. your fingers reach out with trembling hands, tracing the healed lines. every curve and detail is perfectly preserved, professionally done. you actually got it tattooed, you breathe. you said it was 'just marker', he says simply, catching your hands in his own. so i made it permanent.
4:40 PM and your vision blurs with tears. riki, that's not what i— you hiccup. i know, he interrupts again, gentler this time, cupping your face with both hands. his thumbs brush away the wetness on your cheeks. but i wanted to. you made this. for me, on me. you drew it while i was sleeping like i was your canvas. why wouldn't i want to keep it forever?
4:41 PM and you're trying not to full-on sob. you didn't have to do that, you whisper. i wanted to, he says firmly. i thought about it since i first saw it that day. went the next morning to get it started, had two more sessions to finish it. wanted it to be perfect.
4:43 PM and you're laughing through tears now, overwhelmed by him, by this gesture, by everything. he's grinning, forehead pressed to yours so close you can count his eyelashes. thank you, you tell him. i love you, he repeats his thoughts.
4:45 PM and you're tucked against his chest, his arms wrapped tight around you. your fingers trace the tattoo from where your hands lay against his back. best decision i ever made, he confesses into your hair. the tattoo? you ask. you, he corrects. the tattoo's just a bonus. proof that i'm yours.
7:23 PM and you're still processing it. he's cooking dinner shirtless now, showing off the tattoo freely. you keep staring at it from where you're perched up on the counter. like what you see? he teases. maybe a little, you say, but you're smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.
9:47 PM and you're in bed. he's on his stomach and you're tracing the tattoo again in the dim light, following every line you drew that afternoon. he shivers under your touch. never getting tired of this, are you? he asks quietly. never, you admit, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades, right in the center of the design. good, he says softly. because i'm never getting tired of carrying you on my skin.
NOVEMBER O3
7:15 AM and you wake up to him getting dressed for the day. the tattoo is visible in the morning light and you can't help but stare, still not used to seeing it there. he catches you looking in the mirror and smiles, winking at you.
NOVEMBER 10
11:52 PM and you're tracing the inked lines with your fingers in the dark again. your art is on his skin forever. i still can't believe it's real, you whisper. believe it, he murmurs back, half-asleep. you're stuck with me now.
NOVEMBER 17
3:28 PM and you're both out and about when his shirt rides up from the breeze. you see the tattoo peeking out and your chest feels so full with how much you love him. he notices you staring and grins, tugging his shirt down. later, he mouths and you flush at the thought.
DECEMBER O1
9:02 PM and you're curled against his back, fingertips following the inked lines you drew that sleepy october afternoon. he's almost asleep but he catches your hand and brings it to his lips, pressing kisses to your knuckles. still obsessed with it, he says. with you, you correct. same thing, he argues.
and every single time you see it — mornings when he's getting dressed, afternoons when he reaches for something high, nights when you trace it in the dark, you remember. the trust of him falling asleep beneath you and the permanence of him choosing to carry your art on his skin forever.
because you're his and he's yours, and now it's written on his skin for everyone to see.
𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗎~~~~☆، ﹫cigsaftersuh
for a special somebunny of mine 🩵 happy birthday to her, i hope i make you as happy and loved as you make me — thank you for being the second best sister ever, i am first !
୨୧ summary: you hate chan because your boyfriend hates chan, and you’re pretty sure he hates you too. so when he proposes a fake dating arrangement after you get cheated on, you accept only for the revenge plot. but that doesn’t exactly go as planned, because maybe you two never really hated each other after all.
୨୧ pairing: student!bang chan x fem!student!reader
୨୧ genre: college!au, enemies to lovers / fake dating, a lil fluff, a lil angst, smut MINORS DNI
୨୧ word count: 20.6k
୨୧ featuring: jaehyun of nct and mina & jihyo of twice
୨୧ warnings: 18+, cheating (not between reader and chan), mentions of alcohol, explicit language, poor communication, some arguing, overuse of italics (sorry!), oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (pls dont do it), breast play (+ one slap !), creampie, multiple orgasms, spitting, dirty talk, teasing, pet names (baby, princess), afab reader
୨୧ author's note: let's play a game of how many tropes can i fit into one fic! i did all of my college courses online so not too much on me and my unrealistic depictions pls… also obviously this is not an accurate portrayal of jaehyun, i love that man down okay!! and i got a lil lazy midway through this and rushed it to get to the smut lmao sorry!
You hated parties. You hated parties because they were loud, because spaces with that many bodies on top of each other were too suffocating, because men always tried to hit on you with boozy breath and wandering eyes.
Now you hated parties because they made your boyfriend want to stick his tongue down other girls’ throats.
Jaehyun had managed to destroy nine months within three minutes – that’s the length of time you’d convinced yourself you’d spent standing there, unable to avert your gaze from the horror unfolding in front of you. Three whole minutes that he hadn’t even noticed your presence, too preoccupied. Too focused on kissing this random girl like he had something to claim, as if you weren’t enough. And worst of all, he hadn’t even cared enough to bring it somewhere private. They were in a corner of the living room, tucked away but not hidden. It had only taken a little bit of squeezing between partygoers and quick apologies to make your way to them.
They had gathered a crowd, too. A few spectators, voices meant to be whispers – drunk people can’t seem to mind their own volume.
“Yo, is that Y/N?”
“Nah, I just saw her getting a drink.”
“Shit…she’s gonna be so pissed.”
At least the alcohol hadn’t made them completely brainless. You were, in fact, pissed. There was the unmistakable heartbreak too, but you weren’t going to let anyone see that. Instead, you blinked back your tears and cleared your throat to make sure the words didn’t get stuck. Each step you took towards him made it more real, until you were close enough that you knew he could hear you over the raging music.
“What the fuck are you doing?” you hiss, far from an actual question. Your voice still broke on the last word, and you hoped he hadn’t noticed. As soon as he registers that it’s your voice, his girlfriend, Jaehyun tries to push the girl away, feigning disgust. It’s almost pathetic in a way, his little act.
“Shit, Y/N,” he curses. “I didn’t mean to – fuck, I didn’t mean for this to happen, I just – ”
He stumbles on his words as if his mouth wasn’t working perfectly fine just seconds before. When he tries to inch towards you, you step back, refusing to allow him the comfort.
“You’re fucked, Jaehyun,” you say flatly. That’s as much of your energy as you would give him, at least for now. He’d embarrassed you enough by kissing another woman in the middle of a party; you decided against escalating your humiliation by shouting at him and causing a scene. You turn on your heels and begin pushing through bodies again, away from him, and you can tell he’s following. You can hear your name, barely reaching your ears but definitely there.
Once you make it out of the most concentrated pool of people, he staggers soon after and latches onto your wrist. The same fingertips that used to run across your skin so gently now felt like betrayal and poison.
“Let me go,” you snap. His grip loosens slightly, but he still holds you there, determined to defend himself.
“I fucked up, I know, but please just hear me out,” he begs, as if he has the right to. His excuses are the last thing you want to hear right now, and you know that’s all they would be. Stupid excuses for a stupid “mistake,” and it makes you sick to even think about listening to him explain why and how he ended up making out with another woman in the corner of a party he asked you to go with him to.
“No! Fuck you, seriously,” you spit, words laced with venom you prayed would hurt him even a fraction of the way he hurt you.
And perhaps they did, or at the very least stunned him, because he drops your arm entirely. Now, you take the final steps towards the door, reaching for the handle. He tries to follow you again, unsatisfied, unrelenting. “And if you follow me out this door, I promise you I’ll never speak to you again.”
That stops him in his tracks. Maybe gives him some hope that if he just lets you cool off for the night, you’ll let him explain in the morning. Regardless of how he perceives it, you lunge at the opportunity to escape, finally making it out the door and into the crisp night air. It hits your skin viciously, your skirt and halter top offering little protection from its bite. You’re cold, heartbroken, and, worst of all, not even nearly drunk enough to mask it.
Without the vivaciousness of the party, you can only see Jaehyun kissing her in your mind, can only hear the hushed whispers of the onlookers, replaying on a torturous loop. You’d only made it down the steps of the house before the tears began to fall. Now you let them, assuming you were away from prying eyes.
Unfortunately, you hadn’t noticed someone standing right next to the door while you and Jaehyun had your little spat. A certain someone who would get far too much enjoyment out of such a scene. You had been followed once more, but this time not by your stupid cheating ex boyfriend, but by his equally as stupid “rival.” It was still a mystery to you why they hated each other, and at this point, you didn’t care at all to find out.
“Those were some harsh words,” he chuckles, and you don’t even need to turn around to recognize the voice. The same way you don’t need to turn around to know he’s smirking. You hurriedly wipe your eyes, careful not to smudge your makeup; the last thing you need is him to see you crying, another thing for him to derive sick pleasure in. You wouldn’t dare grant him that.
Because it was an unspoken relationship rule that an enemy of your partner is an enemy of your own. So, for no real reason other than the fact that Jaehyun hated him, you hated Bang Chan.
“Fuck off, Chan,” you snarl, quickening your pace. It doesn’t matter, since he catches up to you in a few short strides. “Why the hell did you even follow me out here?”
He steps in rhythm with you, making it clear he had no intentions of leaving. Not until he got what he wanted, whatever that may be. The satisfaction of seeing you broken? The chance to remind you how shitty Jaehyun is and how great he is? You aren’t sure, but you keep walking anyway.
“I just didn’t expect to hear you say such things to your boyfriend,” he answers. His emphasis of “boyfriend” makes you both angry and repulsed, then bitter and devastated. Nine months of your life gone in minutes, and now you had the displeasure of dealing with Chan on top of it.
You scoff and finally stop, turning to face him for the first time. His eyes twinkle with something devious, and it infuriates you. “He’s not my boyfriend. Not anymore.”
“Oh?” he draws his head back in shock. He’s silent for a moment, and you fold your arms across your chest, glaring at him in a way he finds cute more than intimidating. “I’m surprised you two lasted this long, actually. Figured it was about time for Jaehyun to do what he does best.”
You blink at him incredulously, his careless words cutting deep. There’s no reason anything he says should bother you, but there’s something about it that stings. And Chan notices, too, watching your entire face shift from rage to sorrow. Your features soften in a way he’d never seen before – you’d only ever looked at him with hatred and annoyance – and it deflates him.
“I don’t know why you two don’t get along. Seems like you should be best friends – you’re both fucked up,” you retort quickly, though it comes out as a strained whisper.
Chan hates being grouped with him, especially in your mind where Jaehyun now seems to be synonymous with evil. He never expected to be giving you of all people an apology, but he figures he needs to. For his own consciousness, of course. Definitely not because he felt an odd pang in his chest when you looked at him with something other than disdain for once.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said all that. Are you alright?” he asks cautiously. He never thought he’d be so relieved to see someone roll their eyes, but when you do, he swears he feels ten times lighter. Your hostility he could navigate, but your sadness was uncharted territory; he was glad to be back to familiarity. And since you hadn’t walked away from him yet, he takes the chance to dig deeper. “What did he do?”
“Like I’d want to talk to you about it. Just give it a few hours, you’ll hear about it from someone, I’m sure,” you shrug, trying to pretend that you’re unbothered. That you don’t care that you’ll likely be the talk of campus, the woeful ex-girlfriend people will look at in that pitiful way they look at small, broken things.
As much as you hate Chan, you’re grateful he isn’t looking at you like you’re small or broken. He’s looking at you the same as always, like you’re a challenge, a puzzle he hasn’t yet solved. Maybe that’s why you decided to keep standing there, holding more of a conversation with him than you’d likely ever had before.
“Probably. But I want to hear it from you. So tell me, what happened?” he asks again.
He doesn’t say it with demand or snark. It sounds almost unsettlingly genuine. It sounds like someone that isn’t Chan, or at least the Chan you’re familiar with. You hesitate, conjuring up another smart remark, but you let it die in your throat.
“He fucking cheated on me. He was making out with some girl in front of everyone. Can you believe that?” you chuckle sarcastically, forgetting who exactly is standing before you. “Nevermind…I’m sure you can believe it. God, I’m so stupid.”
“No, you’re not stupid,” he says adamantly. “He’s stupid. An even bigger idiot than I thought, actually.”
It angers him more than it should that you’re degrading yourself over Jaehyun’s horrible decisions, and he has a fleeting thought of going back and telling him off for it. And as the thought passes, he can’t understand why. He knows you hate him. He knows you have likely been fed lies and half-truths by Jaehyun for months. He knows he shouldn’t care about any of this. He can’t seem to figure out why he does.
“I just can’t get that image out of my head. It’s making me sick,” you mumble, and it replays all over again. The ear-splitting music, the crowd, his lips on hers, that look on his face when he saw you. All your emotions bubble back up to the surface and come out as a loud groan, though internally you just want to scream until your throat is raw. “I wish I could make him feel even half of what I feel right now.”
The idea that pops up sounds ridiculous in his head and likely even more so said aloud, but his mouth opens before he can stop himself. “Well, maybe you could,” he trails.
“I know it may be hard for you to believe, but I’m actually a good person,” you sneer. “I would never cheat.”
He laughs dryly and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion, awaiting an explanation. “Believe me, I know you’re just a perfect princess,” he mocks, and you’re certain if you roll your eyes any harder they’ll get stuck like that. “But who said anything about cheating? Besides, you’re not together anymore,” he reminds. “And there’s only one thing I can think of that would drive him just as mad.”
You’re intrigued now, though doubtful there’s anything that could reflect the same level of hurt you currently felt. Anything rational, at least. Still, you wanted to hear whatever silly idea Chan had, if not for your own amusement.
“Which is what?” you question.
“Being with me,” he answers, too quickly, too plainly, as if it was something entirely normal and not an absolutely insane statement. When your eyes widen, he continues, waving his hands urgently to indicate you had gotten the wrong impression. “Okay, not for real, Jesus. Like faking it, you know? Just for him to see and lose his mind.”
That was quite possibly the last thing you expected, and you’re forced to laugh at the absurdity of it. You wait for him to join in, to tell you he was joking just to fuck with you. That would have been the Chan thing to do. Instead, he stares at you, a half-smile playing on his lips.
“Yeah, okay, you’re insane,” you scoff.
“Is it that insane?” he says smugly, poking his tongue in his cheek. “Think about it, imagine how pissed he’d be seeing us together.”
For a moment, you can’t help but realize how attractive he actually is. It’s not that you hadn’t noticed before – you had perfectly functional eyes – but now being single and also inches away from him, it was an unavoidable fact. It made you almost begin to consider his idea. Almost.
“Yes, it’s insane! Just because I gave you five minutes of my time on a shitty night doesn’t mean I want to talk to you ever again, let alone pretend to date you.”
“Oh, Princess Y/N gave me five minutes of her precious time, thank you so much,” he quips, and this time he’s the one to roll his eyes. “Whatever, I gave you a guy’s perspective on how to get back at him. You’re not gonna get any better revenge than that.”
“And what do you get from it?” you ask, certain there must be some mutually beneficial aspect beneath it. There’s no way he would suggest something so outlandish without thinking of his own gain, and you know that’s true when he grins wickedly.
“Just the satisfaction of seeing his face when he realizes he lost his girl to the one person he hates more than anything.”
You aren’t sure why you hadn’t grasped that from the beginning. All Chan wanted, as always, was to get under Jaehyun’s skin, to take something of his, to win. The idea is still crazy, and far more theatrical than you’d usually approve of, but you’re a lover scorned.
Then, you think back to the unspoken rule, the sole reason and origin of your hatred for Chan. Jaehyun hadn’t even followed relationship rule number fucking one: don’t cheat on your girlfriend. So, you figured you could break some rules and allow some theatrics.
“Okay. Okay, fine, I’ll fake date you or whatever,” you huff, trying to ignore his triumphant smirk. “But nothing weird, alright? And once it’s all over, we go back to hating each other.”
He throws his hands up like it’s offensive you’d even insinuated it. “Believe me, that’ll be no problem,” he agrees.
“Good,” you say simply, a forced tight-lipped smile on your face.
“Good,” he repeats.
The silence that falls over you two is uncomfortable, only disrupted by the sound of the wind lifting leaves along the sidewalk and the faint thumping of music. You can still see the house down the road, and it makes you wonder if Jaehyun is still inside and if he went right back to her. Suddenly, you feel the need to get home and cry in the shower with your carefully-curated sad music playlist.
“Well…I’m gonna go back to my dorm now,” you finally speak, shifting on your feet awkwardly.
“I’ll walk you,” he offers without a second thought.
You can’t help the way you exhale a little too harshly. Truthfully, you just wanted a short walk on your own to process all of the nights’ events, including the proposal you’d just accepted. And you had already spent more time than you’d like with Chan for one night (although you know you’ll have to spend much more now).
“Uh, no thanks. I don’t think we need to start the whole fake dating thing right now,” you reject bluntly.
He pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head, trying to stop himself from saying the wrong thing. He’s just trying to do a nice thing, the right thing, but you have a way of getting under his skin. The next few weeks are surely going to be a challenge. “It’s not for that, Y/N,” he sighs. “It’s late and dark out. Just let me make sure you get home safe, please?”
The roads are lit only by streetlights and the moon shining above, and you shiver from both the chilly air and the thought of making the walk to your dorm alone. You’d expected to be going home with Jaehyun, definitely not on your own in the middle of the night.
“Fine,” you agree reluctantly. “But can we just walk in silence? Not really in the mood to talk anymore.”
You deliberately exclude that you feel like if you keep talking, you’re going to break. You’d kept a relatively strong front – far stronger than you thought you’d be after being cheated on – but it was slowly crumbling. Maybe it was all the adrenaline that kept your emotions contained, because now everything was slowing down and soaking in.
“Sure,” he nods, following closely behind when you turn and begin taking steps forward. Your dorm is ten minutes away, and you walk side by side, arms occasionally brushing against each others. You only make it about two minutes in before he stops, shrugging off his jacket. Then, he holds his hand out, gesturing to it when you stare dumbly.
“Here,” he offers. “You’re freezing.”
There’s no denying that he’s right, but that didn’t mean you were going to wear his jacket. You could survive a few more minutes of the cold, even though your skin was covered with goosebumps that hadn’t gone away since you’d first left Jaehyun at the door. “I’m not wearing your jacket, Chan,” you shove his hand back.
Before you can start walking again, he drapes it around your shoulders, ignoring the glares you send his way.
“Do you always have to be this stubborn?” he groans. “You’re literally shaking, but God forbid you wear my jacket.”
You click your tongue and pull your arms through the sleeves anyway, mumbling a grudging “thank you.” The newfound warmth was a great comfort, and you’re so wrapped up in it you don’t notice the way he steals short glances over at you. His eyes drag down your body, drinking in how his jacket sits on your shoulders like it belongs there. How the sleeves fall past your wrists and the hem lines your thighs, still mostly exposed from your skirt length of choice. How you look good wearing something of his.
And then he curses himself for even thinking it, tearing his eyes away even though he really doesn’t want to. He clears his throat loudly, awkwardly, trying to ground himself, and you look over wordlessly. Any words you were going to say get caught in your throat when you notice how muscular his arms are now that they’re no longer covered.
Still, neither of you speak again, both thinking silent thoughts that you’d never let the other know. Once you arrive at your dorm building, he walks you all the way to your door despite your protests, muttering something about you being stubborn yet again.
“Thank you for walking me home,” you force out, gratitude sounding like exasperation. Your back is pressed against the door, hand wrapped around the handle. All you want is to throw yourself in bed and sob and sleep at this point, but Chan’s presence keeps you in the hallway.
He nods, combing a hand through his hair, wondering when it became so difficult to think of the right words to say to you. “Try not to think about him too much tonight, alright?” he sighs. “I know that’s hard, but just try to get some sleep or something.”
Such gentle advice sounds odd coming from his mouth, and he waits for your sarcastic reply. Counts on it, actually.
It doesn’t come. Instead, you smile at him weakly, telling yourself you simply don’t have the mental capacity to go back and forth with him anymore. Not that you were actually hating him a little less.
“I’ll try,” you assure. “Oh, yeah. Here.”
You pull off his jacket, the one that had begun to feel a little too comfortable, and fold it over your arms towards him.
“Keep it. You can wear it around or whatever,” he suggests indifferently. It would make your fake relationship more believable, but beyond that, it would appeal to that small part of him that enjoyed seeing you in it.
Fuck, what had gotten into him?
“I won’t,” you sass, bringing the jacket back to your chest anyways.
He runs his tongue along his teeth, chuckling. “Of course you won’t. So stubborn.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“Stop being that,” he shoots back.
Seemingly, you’d met your match. Someone who could keep up with your quick retorts, your mouthiness. And it came in the form of a man your ex boyfriend hated, a man you hated. You weren’t sure why that made it all the more exciting for you.
His gaze lingered, a curious glint in his eyes. He was trying to piece you together bit by bit, but you were a more difficult puzzle than most.
“Have a good night, Chan,” you say, finally turning the handle. When the door swings open, he finds himself looking around unintentionally, another opportunity to figure you out. He can see a few plushies on your bed, posters lined on the walls, and framed photos he can’t quite make out. There’s probably some of you and Jaehyun, and he hopes those are long gone by the next time he ends up at your dorm.
You slip inside hastily, and he realizes he’d been too engrossed in examining your room to respond. The door comes to a close in front of him.
“Yeah, you too,” he breathes out when you can’t hear, standing there just a few moments longer.
Once inside, you wait to hear the sound of his footsteps padding away, and when you do, you crack. The pictures of you and Jaehyun sit on your bedside dresser, mocking you, and you slam them down against the wood. You’re partially inclined to throw them against the wall and hope they shatter, but you don’t particularly feel like cleaning up glass shards through tears.
At least you let the teddy bear he gifted you stay on your bed, unharmed. An innocent soul caught in the crossfire, a child of divorce even.
“Fuck Jaehyun, fuck parties, and fuck this whole night,” you curse, though it comes out in choked sobs. And fuck Chan, your brain wants to say, but you bite it back. He had walked you home, given you his jacket…and become your fake boyfriend (soon to be, anyways) within the span of thirty minutes. Still, he was annoying, arrogant, impossible-to-deal-with Chan.
As much as every fiber of your being yearned for the soft comfort of your bed, you trudge to your bathroom and start the shower, making sure to put on your playlist while the water warms. Because if you were going to be heartbroken, you were at least going to be heartbroken while listening to Cigarettes After Sex.
After thirty minutes of crying and scrubbing your body of any traces of Jaehyun, you finally step out and decide to check your phone for the first time since everything had completely unraveled. Apparently getting cheated on was all you needed to reduce your screen time, so maybe that was a positive?
Naturally, there’s a few texts from people you could hardly consider friends but would now act like you were with feigned sympathy, full nosiness. Among them, however, is a text from a number you hadn’t saved.
y/n?
who’s this?
I’d say the guy you hate the most but i think someone else might’ve taken that spot
Chan. It was almost impressive that he managed to sound annoying even through texts.
ha. and how’d you get my number…?
I asked someone for it. you think they’ll take the bait?
they’ll probably just think you’re a freak who goes for recently heartbroken girls.
Nah. that’s not really my type.
oh yeah? what’s your type then?
You watch as the typing bubble pops up and disappears a few moments later, and then nothing. Minutes pass and you assume he’s leaving you on read, and that’s fine. It’s late, anyway, and after such a thorough cleansing and crying session, you’re exhausted.
So it’s no surprise when your phone buzzes again just as you manage to get comfortable in bed.
Just because that’s not my type doesn’t mean i have a type
“Liar,” you mumble to yourself. Whatever, it’s not like you care who or what he’s into. In fact, you’re glad he didn’t answer. Who knows what kind of weird things he’d come up with, if not just to irritate you.
okay, boring
What about you then? what’s your type?
You’re torn between giving him a genuine answer or something along the lines of “basically the antithesis of you.” Then, you realize you can probably do both at once, since you don’t consider Chan to align with any of your dating criteria.
i like someone who’s warm, attentive, and can make me laugh. someone who notices the little things, too
Yeah, definitely not Chan. But then again….
That can’t be right. i mean, you ended up with jaehyun
Also not Jaehyun. That was something you could admit now, but it was different coming from someone else. Like you were the only one who couldn’t see the flaws, the incompatibility. You feel stupid all over again, trying to ignore the way your throat began to tighten once more.
i’m going to sleep.
HahahaAw man. i was having fun.
goodnight, chan.
Goodnight princess
The nickname might’ve been a term of endearment from anyone else, but from Chan, it was a thinly veiled taunt. You save his contact with a very fitting eyeroll emoji just to spite him, finally drifting off to a surprisingly peaceful sleep soon after.
“What an asshole,” Jihyo hisses. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there, you know I would have ripped into him.”
With all the craziness of the night, you hadn’t even thought to text any of your friends. It was one of the rare times none of them could make it out with you, and now you were being inundated with questions over lunch.
You wave her off, poking at your plate idly. “It’s fine, I promise,” you sigh.
“Has he texted you today?” Mina asks, glancing down at your phone on the table. You look down too, half-expecting to see another flurry of messages from Jaehyun – he’d already sent about twenty since the morning, all going unanswered.
“Yes,” you groan, unlocking your phone and passing it to the two girls for them to read the same desperate pleas you’d been spammed with. They scroll through, mouths slightly agape. “Should I answer? I’m worried he’s gonna end up showing up at my dorm if I don’t.”
“Here, let me answer,” Jihyo says, and you reach over and snatch the phone out of her hands before she can type. It wasn’t that he didn’t deserve whatever insults she’d send his way, but that you worried any response would entice him at this point.
To satisfy her, you finally text him back, telling him to leave you alone and that you would let him know when you were ready to talk. You truly had no idea when that would be, but any more silence from your end would inevitably have him tracking you down on campus.
Then, you remembered the other half of the night, the part where you agreed to fake date the same man your friends had heard you complain about more than once. There was no way you were going to keep that from them, nor would you be able to, but you weren’t even sure how to approach the subject.
Hey, by the way, I’m pretending to date that guy I hate. For the revenge plot of course.
“There’s actually something else that happened last night,” you begin, studying their reactions. They wait expectantly, eyes wide with curiosity. “Chan heard us arguing and we…talked a little.”
“Yeah, well, that sounds like Chan. He basically feeds off of Jaehyun’s misery,” Jihyo chuckles.
Mina catches onto the end of your sentence, the words you had said just a little too quickly and quietly. Intentionally so. “What do you mean you talked? You can’t stand him.”
Now, both girls are staring at you, disbelief etched on their faces. You and Chan had never talked. You insulted, glared, and mocked. Talking? They weren’t even sure you two were capable of holding a conversation without spitting names at each other.
“It’s stupid…” you trail. “He had this idea, and…I don’t know, I guess I just agreed to it because I was so angry and emotional.”
You’re stalling, obviously, and they’re growing more impatient with each delayed sentence.
“He suggested we pretend to be together to get back at Jaehyun.”
It’s quiet for a few seconds, and then Jihyo laughs, a full-body laugh that has tears pooling at the corners of her eyes. Mina just blinks at you, unamused. “Y/N! You can’t make me laugh like that while I’m eating, you know,” Jihyo scolds, still releasing occasional giggles.
“You’re not joking,” Mina says flatly. “Are you?”
Realization strikes both their faces when you don’t answer, swirling your straw around absentmindedly. Next comes their looks of disapproval.
“Don’t look at me like that,” you groan. But what did you expect? You had just thrown into question a fact they knew more concretely than grass being green or the sky being blue: you hate Chan. So did your need for revenge trump your hatred, or was your hatred truly never that deep after all? They suspected the latter – they always did, especially when you would go on about how insufferable he was while eyeing him from across a room.
“Like what? Like you’re crazy? Because clearly, you’re crazy,” Jihyo whisper-shouts.
“And with Chan of all people, seriously?” Mina adds.
Okay, neither of them were wrong, but they’d also never been cheated on to understand all the complex thoughts and feelings you’re experiencing right now. And yes, with Chan, because the plan simply wouldn’t work with anyone else (nor would anyone else be stupid enough to go along with it). It just had to be your ex boyfriend’s worst enemy.
“I know it’s crazy and you know I’d never agree to something like this, but – ”
“ – but she just couldn’t resist me,” someone interjects from behind you. Then, he throws himself next to you, leaning back against the table on his elbows.
You aren’t sure how long he’s been there or how much he heard, though you guess not much since one of them definitely would have warned you. Either way, add his stupidly good timing to the list of things that piss you off about him.
He hadn’t texted you in the morning – not that he was supposed to, or that you expected him to – and it almost made you wonder if the whole night was a fever dream. Evidently not, seeing as he was sitting a few inches away with a wide grin plastered on his dumb face.
“Are you stalking me across campus?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.
He huffs out a hollow laugh. “You wish. You guys sit in the same spot almost every day.”
Is he right? Yes. Does it make sense for him to know that? Not really. Unless he’d been paying more attention to you than you thought, which also didn’t make sense.
“Okay, so you’re not stalking me,” you conclude. “Just watching me.”
“Why does it have to be you? There’s two other lovely ladies here.”
“Ew,” Mina says.
“Don’t be gross,” Jihyo adds.
Now it’s your turn to laugh, though Chan is unamused. You want to poke him further, to find out why he knows the specific time and place your friends typically eat lunch, but you decide to save it for another time. Especially since those two are sitting right across from you and would hang onto every stupid thing he says, pestering you about it later.
Chan spins forward, now facing Jihyo and Mina. “Do you girls mind if I steal Y/N for a bit?”
“I mind,” you scoff, but he ignores you entirely.
The two girls look at each other suspiciously, knowingly. Then, Mina shakes her head, basically sending you off to your demise (another uncomfortable walk with Chan – two in less than twenty-four hours has to be considered cruel and unusual punishment). “Sure,” she shrugs. “We were just finishing up, anyways.”
Were you, though? The conversation hadn’t shown any signs of slowing down until he arrived.
With the approval of your friends, not yours, he clasps his hand around yours and stands up, trying to bring you with him. You can’t move, you can’t function at all with his hand holding your own, and once it hits you, you yank it away from him.
And then you stand anyway, as if your body was betraying you and doing everything your brain said not to.
“I hope you don’t plan on hurting her, too,” Jihyo cautions, an unspoken threat behind her words.
Her intentions are sweet, but you can’t help but feel the need to chide her for making it seem like you two are actually together.
“I’m not going to cheat on her, if that’s what you’re implying,” he jeers, picking up your bag and slinging it over his shoulder. “Don’t worry, princess, you’re the only fake girlfriend in my life.”
He must think he’s so funny, putting on a show in front of your friends, but you’re not laughing. However, Mina and Jihyo are. Snickering under their breath, actually, and probably going to gush all about this odd interaction after you leave.
The three of you exchange goodbyes, Chan already walking away from the table. You have to take larger strides to catch up to him, and when you do, you reach for your bag, trying to pry it from his arm.
“Is it going to kill you if you let me be nice and carry your stuff?” he huffs, readjusting the strap.
“It might,” you glare, but you can tell he’s not budging, so you resign. You wait for him to speak, to offer an explanation. Instead, he scans your face like he’s looking for something beneath the surface. “Is there a reason you took me from my friends just now?”
“Are you okay?” he asks, answering your question with…a question? So. Annoying.
But it sounds sincere coming from him, unlike how everyone else had asked you since last night. You can tell the difference now between girls who asked because they wanted to know if they had a chance with Jaehyun, guys who asked because they wanted to know if they had a chance with you, the complete randoms who asked just to be in the know, and now…this. Someone who genuinely wanted to know if you were okay, nothing more, nothing less, no underlying motives.
“I’m alright,” you shrug, “just numb, I think.”
He swallows hard, then nods. And suddenly the Chan you recognize is back. “Well, you look good for someone who just got cheated on.”
Maybe the compliment would have felt good if he hadn’t tacked on the last part. You had enough reminders throughout the day, so much so that your phone had been on DND for hours. And the reminders came in other forms, too, like your lonely walk to your first class in the morning, the one Jaehyun would always accompany you on. Or the song that came on shuffle that you two had once added to a shared playlist (which you now had sole custody of).
“Do you know how to give an actual compliment?” you snap, already knowing the answer. Chan would probably drop dead before he complimented you.
“So you’d rather I just say you look good?” he questions.
Yes, yes you most certainly would. But there was no way in hell you would tell him that and make him think his words actually mean something to you. You can just picture his smug look of satisfaction already.
So you lie through your teeth.
“No.”
He chews the inside of his cheek, carefully mulling over what he says next. “You do though. Look good, I mean,” he states matter-of-factly. And to your surprise, he doesn’t drop dead afterwards.
What should you say in return? Thank you? No, that implies you’re appreciative, grateful he complimented you, which you aren’t. You look good too? Absolutely not, unless you want to have him use that against you for the foreseeable future. Ew, don’t say those things? You’re not even sure you can feign disgust like that.
You end up not saying anything at all, but your face says a lot. Too much. It heats up and your cheeks dust with red, a far worse response than any of the others you’d contemplated.
“Aw, you’re blushing,” Chan teases, bumping against your shoulder lightly. “Getting all shy on me, where’s that smart mouth?”
“Shut up,” you grumble, and then you realize you’ve been following him blindly for the past minutes. You see that he’s led you to the heart of campus, the vast field of green where couples, friends, and classmates alike all congregate. He heads straight for a bench, pulling you down next to him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“When’s your next class?”
You don’t answer.
“You took me away from my friends to bring me here?” And then you look around, convincing yourself everyone’s eyes are on you. “People are staring.”
He looks over at you, your bag now acting as a barrier between your bodies, and quirks an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”
“I just don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.”
“Yeah, well, newsflash, princess. We’re doing this so they do get the wrong idea,” he reminds, tucking your bag by his side. With the new space, he hooks his arms around your thighs and shifts you towards him, pulling your legs onto the bench and draping them over his lap.
“Chan!” you hiss, trying to move, but he holds you there.
If you thought people were staring before, they must be drilling holes through you now. Realistically, you’re just being dramatic – everyone is too entrenched in their own problems, their own conversations, their own world to really notice you. But you know people will talk, because that’s what people do, especially when it involves two individuals who are quite well-known on campus.
“Relax. The more obvious we make this, the quicker people will see, the quicker Jaehyun will see. And then it can all be over, right?” he explains, and you huff in response. You sit there like that long enough that it becomes comfortable, his fingers tapping idly on your leg while he scrolls on his phone. At the same time, you trace mindless shapes onto the bench, pretending you weren’t melting into him slowly.
No.
Being like this with Chan shouldn’t feel this normal, and you refuse to accept that it does. So, naturally, you have to say something to ruin it. Almost like an innate reflex.
“I should’ve just stepped out in a revenge dress, but nooo, I had to agree to your stupidity,” you mumble. He laughs, and then his face contorts to something more serious.
“You have a revenge dress?”
He says it hopefully, a glimmer of interest in his eyes.
“If I do,” you begin, leaning in to whisper in his ear, “you’ll never get to see it.”
His entire body deflates, and you take the opportunity to pull yourself off of him. You had a class across campus to get to and also needed a serious mental debrief to process the last twenty minutes. He hands over your bag, lifting off the bench as well. “Do you want me to like, walk you to your classes and stuff?”
“Nope,” you decline easily. “Unless you’re willing to walk me to my 8:30 on Tuesdays.”
It’s supposed to be a joke, and he must know it because he scoffs, shaking his head like you’d just said the most egregious thing ever. You laugh and start in the direction of your class, the feeling of his body so close to yours still lingering.
The weekend comes and goes quickly, with you swearing off any more parties for the time being despite Mina and Jihyo’s pleas. They both mention something about alcohol and loud music being the perfect remedy for a break up. But you already only really went to parties to appease your friends (and Jaehyun, previously), who dubbed them an “essential part of the college experience.” Now, you had the perfect excuse not to. Even Chan texts you to ask if you’ll be going out, though he doesn’t have nearly the same level of disappointment as your friends when you say no.
Instead, you spend your days clearing your camera roll of pictures of your cheating ex boyfriend and boxing up all the things of his you no longer wanted to have in your possession. Maybe you could get Chan to burn it all for you (except for the teddy bear, of course).
And then Tuesday morning rolls around and there’s an incessant knocking on your door, which is not only irritating but unusual, given the time. You’re in the middle of getting dressed when you answer, top half still in a tank top, bottom half in jeans.
This person is about to feel all your morning wrath, until you blink a few times and register that it’s Chan of all people.
“What the hell?”
“8:30, right?” he confirms, leaning against the doorframe.
You fold your arms across your chest, resisting his charm as best as you can. “That was a joke,” you groan, opening the door wider. “I’m not done getting ready and it’s gonna look weird if you’re waiting outside.”
He steps inside happily, immediately noticing the now barren space on your dresser. You had gotten rid of the pictures, good. He also recognizes his jacket draped along the back of your chair in a way he knows you’ve worn it, or at least moved it recently. It hangs off a little unevenly, one of the sleeves wrinkled in on itself.
“Yeah, because it’ll look so much better if we come out of your dorm together at eight in the morning,” he chuckles while you walk into the bathroom to change shirts in peace.
“Don’t even think like that,” you shout. Then, you walk out, throwing the tank top at him (which he catches, unfortunately), feeling emboldened. “Everyone knows I wouldn’t fuck you.”
The smirk on your face is wiped away immediately when he grabs your wrist as you bend down to reach your bag. “Yeah? Do you know that?” he whispers. His whole demeanor shifts, gaze intense, grip strong but not painful. You attempt to force out a stammered reply, but admittedly, you’re flustered. Your own body is a traitor, clearly.
Thankfully, he releases your wrist and breaks the tension with a devilish laugh. “You’re so easy to fuck with,” he says, sounding completely like his usual irksome self.
Now that you had a glimpse of a different, enticing side of Chan, you craved more and hated yourself for it. After all, you had just said you would never fuck him. And you wouldn’t.
But can’t a girl just think about it?
You grabbed your bag successfully this time and slipped on a pair of shoes, heading out the door with him right behind.
“So why did you do this, exactly?” you question, still fighting off sleep yourself.
“When I commit to something, I go hard,” he explains, though it sounds like a double entendre. “So if we’re going to fake date, I’m gonna be the best damn fake boyfriend you ever had.”
How wonderful. You thought you were agreeing to get revenge against Jaehyun, not to fuel Chan’s ego. Maybe you’d need another fake boyfriend down the line just to knock him from the top spot.
“Well, good thing we probably won’t need to keep this up for very long. I’ve already had people text me asking what’s going on between us,” you click your tongue. “No Jaehyun though.”
“Poor guy’s probably losing his mind thinking his fuck-up made you realize you had repressed feelings for me all along.”
“Oh, I had feelings for you?”
“Well, yeah,” he shrugs. “That’s how my story goes, anyways.”
When you make it outside, he wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you just a little bit closer. And now that you understand there’s no reasoning with him, you let him. It’s too early to argue, anyways, but you still roll your eyes where he can’t see.
“God, you’re insufferable. Can’t even give me some dignity in our fake love story,” you sneer.
“Okay, fine, I had feelings for you,” he relents, and for a second, it sounds like a fact, not a fabrication. “That sound better?”
You hum in approval, satisfied with the change. Whether he would actually follow through with it, you weren’t sure.
“So, are you gonna stay cooped up in your dorm this weekend, or are you going out?” Chan wonders, seemingly forgetting why you didn’t want to go to another party in the first place. They were kind of ruined for you at the moment, especially when you never really enjoyed them to begin with.
“I’m put off of parties for a while,” you wave your hands. “And I need to study, anyway.”
He squeezes your shoulder, displeased with your answer. “C’mon, Y/N, don’t let him ruin your fun,” he urges.
It was too late for that, though; all “fun” had been sucked out the moment you caught your boyfriend sucking face, and you knew he would probably be there, too. Just because he was playing the regretful, devastated ex in your texts didn’t mean he was depriving himself of his favorite pastime. You wouldn’t even be surprised if one of his “please forgive me, I’m so sorry, I miss you so much” texts had come while he was balls-deep in another woman.
“I’ll have plenty of fun in the library, thank you,” you shoot back.
“Oh? In public? Wow, princess, I didn’t know you were into stuff like that,” he grins, and you shove his arm off of you, staring at him in disgust.
“Oh my god, you’re a fucking freak!”
“I’m the freak? You’re the one that’s going to – ”
“Chan. Stop talking.”
“Okay, okay,” he throws his hands up defensively. “But just so you know, I don’t judge, and if you want some company…”
Fuck this smug bastard, and more importantly, fuck the way he was starting to get into your head.
The rest of the walk is relatively normal, at least in the sense there’s no more talk about public sex, and you reach your class promptly at 8:28.
“Well, have a good day,” he says a little awkwardly. “Let me know when you’re planning on grabbing lunch?”
“Unlikely,” you scoff, leaving him open-mouthed as you head inside.
So how you end up with Mina, Jihyo, and Chan at your usual lunch spot, you’re not sure.
“You guys missed it. Then she goes ‘fuck you, Jaehyun!’ and he looked terrified,” Chan laughs, and your friends join in, loving the cheater lashings.
“He did not look terrified,” you correct.
“She’s being modest. Even I felt a little intimidated,” he draws in a sharp breath, “but it was kinda hot, too.”
You’re not sure where that came from, and you kick his foot under the table where Mina and Jihyo can’t see. In return, he places his hand on your thigh, squeezing.
“You guys sure you’re faking this?” Jihyo questions, her chin resting on her hand while her eyes flicker between the two of you. Like she would be able to figure you out if she just looked hard enough. Impossible, considering you couldn’t even figure out what was going on at this point. He was still annoying, painfully so, but he was also alluring, and the heat between your legs was starting to do most of the thinking.
“Yes,” you and Chan say simultaneously, almost rehearsed.
“Right,” Mina nods, drawing out the word. “As long as you believe that.”
His hand moves now, rubbing along your thigh softly, and you have to grit your teeth to not snap at him. “I do believe it, because it’s true,” you say harshly (but not convincingly). “I’d rather drink a jean jacket through a fucking straw than actually date him.”
Unfortunately, that doesn’t stop his wandering hand; in fact, it only pushes him further, now sliding lower until his fingertips brush along the inside of your thigh. You shift awkwardly, keeping your eyes locked on your friends. You wouldn’t let him see that he was undoing you.
“I’m not particularly fond of you either, but a jean jacket through a straw is insane,” he smirks, finding enjoyment in your fidgeting.
“Then I guess it does a good job of conveying how much I can’t stand you.”
This time, you do snap your head towards him, eyes shooting daggers into him. They gave a silent warning, a threat he didn’t quite think you truly meant. After all, your body had a different message with the way your thighs clenched and shoulders stiffened.
“So sweet, isn’t she?” Chan smiles sarcastically, drawing his hand back. And you’re grateful – at least, that’s what you tell yourself, ignoring the small voice that said you wanted more. He reads something on his phone before typing quickly and rising from his seat.
“Anyway, thanks for the invite Y/N, but Minho’s locked himself out of the apartment, so I’ve gotta swing by before class,” he sighs dramatically.
“I absolutely didn’t invite you.”
“Sure you didn’t,” he winks, already gone before you can argue.
Once he’s out of earshot, Jihyo groans, covering her face with her hands. “God, I think if I’m subjected to that level of sexual tension again, I’ll actually pass away,” she huffs, muffled.
Bad time to take a sip of your drink.
“Sexual tension?!” you repeat, nearly choking, completely stunned by her words.
“We weren’t sure of it when you were with Jaehyun, but now it practically radiates through the air whenever you’re around each other. It’s suffocating,” Mina agrees, only adding to your embarrassment. Your face is heating up quickly, and it makes it hard to deny their accusations.
“Can you just hate-fuck and get it over with? Maybe you’ll find out you actually do get along in some ways,” Jihyo adds, exasperated.
You laugh dryly. “Oh my god, do you guys hear yourselves? I’m not having sex with Chan, that’s disgusting.”
“Well then can you two at least not make lunch feel like the build-up of a porno?”
Needless to say you would be informing him he could not join you and your friends for lunch anymore, lest you get lectured again on your “radiating” sexual tension.
By the time Friday comes, things have quieted. Chan listens when you tell him Mina and Jihyo requested your lunches stay reserved for the three of you (it’s not quite true, but the best excuse you could come up with without mentioning that your friends think you two want to fuck each other). So, you don’t see him much, aside from the couple of times he shows up outside your classes.
His texts, however, are frequent. They’ve developed into something expected, a normal part of your days. You talk about mundane things like grades and annoying lab partners. You talk about personal things like favorite songs and future goals. Each conversation is still filled with sarcastic quips and quick insults, but they don’t hold the same edge they once did. It felt more like comfort – like if you kept up the hatred act, you could protect yourself from what it was becoming.
And at the same time, the texts from Jaehyun had resumed because, although he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he had heard that you and Chan were seen together. On multiple occasions. He had even shown up at your dorm finally (the week of freedom you’d had was far longer than you’d expected), and you had slammed the door in his face, telling him it wasn’t any of his business who you hung out with anymore.
After that encounter, you were grateful for some peace – which was becoming rare in your life – throwing yourself nose-deep in your notebook. With your headphones on and such intense focus, you don’t notice anyone else’s presence.
Until someone makes their presence impossible to ignore.
“Hey, princess,” Chan greets, a cup of coffee in hand. He slips into the seat in front of you, placing the cup down and sliding it over. You have to pull your headphones back to hear him, eyebrows knitted in confusion.
“What are you doing here?” you ask.
He shrugs. “You said you were studying, I thought I would bring you some coffee to help your brain.”
He says it so calmly, and you have to fight against the way your heart swells at the simple act of service. Though really, it wasn’t so simple, because this was Chan showing up to the library unannounced on a Friday night, when he would usually be far away from anything academic. For you.
“Well, thanks, because I feel like my brain has basically disintegrated,” you complain, taking a sip. It was your favorite, too – he must’ve asked Mina or Jihyo for your order. “Did you skip out on the party?”
“Yeah, I wasn’t feeling it. Kinda just wanted to chill tonight. I thought a library date might be fun,” he muses.
You scoff, watching his lips curl into a satisfied smile. “Date?”
Chan blinks at you like you’ve wounded him, although you know it’s all part of his (perfected) act to get into your head.
“You wouldn’t call it that?” he says, disappointedly, leaning his head against the palm of his hand.
“No, I’d call it me studying for hours and losing my mind and you showing up uninvited.”
He points behind him with his thumb, turning halfway in his seat, an empty threat. “So, should I leave then?” he challenges.
This is probably the part where you should say yes. You should demand it, actually. But he had brought you coffee, liquid gold for your overloaded brain, and the chances of him listening to your request were slim to none regardless.
“It’s fine,” you concede, hoping it sounded indifferent. You even shift your focus back to your laptop to play up the act, writing down “notes” that don’t quite make sense. Chan accepts this, tapping his fingers on the table obnoxiously, purposely so. After a few minutes, he straightens in his chair, leaning forward against the table.
“I must say,” he whispers, “I’m a little disappointed to find you actually studying. You had my hopes up the other day.”
It takes you a moment to recall that conversation, and once you do, the realization spreads across your face in red hues. “There is something seriously wrong with you,” you frown.
And there may have been something seriously wrong with you for enjoying it.
“Maybe. But I think you like it. You were basically writhing when I touched you at lunch.”
Now you know you definitely should have told him to leave. He pokes his tongue in his cheek, in that way that could drive you crazy if you let it (which you weren’t).
“No, I wasn’t,” you argue weakly.
He finds your denial cute, truly, since he remembers your body’s responsiveness so vividly. It was essentially engrained in his mind, spinning it in circles. He could elicit that reaction from just touching your clothed thigh, and it made him feel powerful. And curious.
“Oh, you weren’t?” he chuckles. “So if I come sit next to you now, that’d be fine? And if I touch you like that again, you wouldn’t start to melt under my fingers?”
“I did not melt under your fingers.”
“But you would have,” he says confidently. He drops his voice to a whisper again. “If your friends weren’t there, and I kept going, you would have.”
You’re staring at each other now, wondering who will break first, though his eyes shine with excitement and yours narrow with annoyance. Or rather, desire that you try to disguise as annoyance.
“You think too highly of yourself,” you snort, scribbling gibberish into the margin of your notebook.
He releases a small, humorless laugh. “I don’t need to think it,” he corrects. “You’ve shown me.”
You snap now, slamming your laptop shut a little too aggressively. Because you refused to allow him to continue talking with so much confidence, like he knew what you were thinking better than you did.
“I’m sorry, did you forget the part where none of this is real? All of your little touches and stupid remarks have nothing to do with what we agreed on.”
But your boldness only encourages him, biting his lip subconsciously. “No, they don’t. That’s just for my enjoyment. Like I said, you’re easy to fuck with.”
“That's why you decided to come see me in the library on a Friday night instead of going out? To ‘fuck with me?’” you say pointedly, to emphasize how unreasonable it sounded.
“Well, you didn’t tell me to leave.”
“I asked a question.”
Chan drags his hand along his face, suddenly far less arrogant. For once, he looked like he was struggling to conjure up a smart response. And he was. But you were refusing to back down, finally having a sense of control.
“I don’t know,” he finally says, and you glare at him. “Really, I don’t. I just wanted to see you.”
You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. “Don’t be dumb.”
Because there was no way he meant it. Or maybe you had misheard him entirely. But his whole demeanor had changed, and you no longer recognized the Chan that sat before you without his smugness.
“Right. If I tease you, I’m ‘insufferable,’” he recites, “if I’m honest with you, I’m dumb. Tell me, princess, what can I do then?”
You swallow harshly, trying to ignore what his words entailed. Honest. He said that he wanted to see you and he meant it. The air around you had shifted now, thicker, heavier, falling on your chest in a way that almost made your voice get caught in your throat.
“Are you fucking with me again?” you grimace, waiting for him to laugh in your face. To snap back into the version of him you’re familiar with.
But he doesn’t laugh. “You tell me. Am I?”
“You can’t do that!” you groan, exasperated. “You can’t say these things and then act all cryptic after.”
You cross your arms across your chest, and he relents. “Okay. Yes, I wanted to see you. Is that bad?”
“Yes.”
Yes, it was bad. Very bad, actually. Because you were supposed to hate him, and you thought he hated you. Because none of this was supposed to be real, and once you’d gotten vengeance against your shitty ex boyfriend (however dramatic it may be), things would go on like nothing had ever happened.
But is that what you wanted? It should be. It had to be.
“Huh. I guess I don’t care,” he breathes. “Do you?”
He awaits your answer, though he already knows what it will be. You had become easy for him to read now; he had studied you like you were his favorite subject. The unsolved puzzle he had finally pieced together.
And though you try to force yourself to lie and say yes, you simply cannot. All your resolve has vanished since he made such an unexpected confession, leaving you dazed.
“No,” you mumble, and your breath hitches.
His smirk returns, though it’s different now. Less of an attempt to get under your skin, more of an acknowledgement that one day he’ll get to touch every inch of it.
“Didn’t think so,” he reaches across the table, trailing his fingers along your hand. You snatch it back, ignoring his snickers.
He would be the death of you, you were certain. And for some reason, you find yourself thinking that it may not be such a terrible way to go out.
Neither of you are sure how to proceed after that night in the library, an obvious tension lingering between the two of you. You knew you weren’t going to be the one to address it, but you were growing exhausted with pretending that it had never happened.
It seemed like Chan was perfectly content with that, however. He hadn’t even mentioned it once, continuing to text you and show up outside your dorm and classes like it was all still part of a plan. And maybe it was. Maybe he was a great liar, but that didn’t explain the rift that had settled between you two. If he had lied that night, why could he hardly meet your eyes now?
You didn’t ask, because you feared the answer – both possibilities. Though when you turned to Mina and Jihyo for advice, they were adamant. They were convinced they were right all along, that there was a budding romance beneath the hatred. So, it was quite hard to get any sort of unbiased guidance from them. This was something you’d have to navigate on your own.
And by navigate, you meant continuing to avoid it. Hopefully Chan would crack before you did.
After almost two weeks of letting the unspoken words nearly suffocate you, you had begun to believe you really would have to forget it had ever happened. If he wanted to speak on it, he would. Nevermind that he could say the same thing about you; it was him that had started it, so he had to be the one to acknowledge it. It was only fair.
Your phone rings in the middle of the afternoon, during your thirty minute interval between classes. It’s Chan, which isn’t the surprising part (he had learned your entire schedule by now).
“Let me take you to dinner tonight,” he says only a few seconds after you pick up.
You roll your eyes, hardly registering his proposal. “A ‘hello’ might be nice.”
“Hi,” he utters. “Let me take you to dinner.”
If you agree too easily, he’ll know you had been waiting for him to say something like this. And with how straightforwardly he had asked (or stated, rather), he clearly expected your agreement. You could make him grovel just a little bit.
“You wanna see me again?” you quip, the most you’d allude to the library incident.
But Chan could match your attitude ten times over, so he has a quick retort. “I just figured if we go to dinner you could post a picture on your story, really commit to the bit,” he explains flatly, and then laughs when you’re silent. “What? You wanted me to say I want to see you?”
“Fuck you.”
“You said you wouldn’t,” he reminds. “Remember?”
If he could see you, he would undoubtedly point out how flustered you were, then follow it up with a dumb joke about how the offer was always open. And you would have to hold back from taking him up on it.
“Really doing a good job of making me want to say yes,” you chide.
“Please let me take you to dinner. I’ve been thinking about our library date, and I wanna take you on a real one.”
You huff loud enough for him to hear over the phone. “That wasn’t a date,” you correct. “And I’m busy tonight.”
A lie, but he didn’t need to know that yet. There’s shuffling on his end, and then his voice comes out sharply.
“Busy with what?”
“That’s really none of your concern,” you can’t help but grin at your own mischief. “But if you must know, I’m seeing someone tonight.”
“Y/N,” he growls, and it’s hot. You try to imagine the look on his face (why couldn’t he have FaceTimed you?), and it makes you weak.
“So, what time are you picking me up?” you ask, voice syrupy sweet despite your antics. Like honey masking poison.
He exhales loudly, and you can hear all the unease release from his body. If he was going to be so wound up about you even potentially seeing someone else, why had he taken so long to address your ever-present tension?
Maybe he was just as confused as you.
“You don’t know what you do to me,” he groans. “I’ll be there at seven.”
He hangs up before you can hound him about the first half, not even sparing a second to confirm the time. No, you don’t know what you do to him, but it was inevitable that you would find out. And he would make sure that you understood to the fullest extent.
It’s difficult for you to decide on an outfit for dinner with Chan, one, because you’re still tossing with the idea internally and two, because you aren’t sure what’s an “appropriate” amount of dressed-up. If you look too good, he’ll think you’re trying too hard to impress him, and you’ll never hear the end of that.
Though, you had already agreed to going to dinner with him, so you probably wouldn’t hear the end of that, either.
Mina and Jihyo choose an outfit over FaceTime (and so kindly remind you to “at least make him wear a condom”), one that teeters right in the middle of simple and dressy, and you’ve fixed your hair at least a dozen times by the time he’s knocking on your door.
When you open it, he stares at you, and then tears his eyes away to roam all over your body. He draws in a sharp breath, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Wow,” he rasps. “You’re beautiful.”
The compliment comes with no snarky follow-up, and he doesn’t even tease you when you feel your face heating up. He takes your hand and holds it the whole way to his car, only letting go to open the door for you; you would have never taken him for such a gentleman.
He doesn’t tell you which restaurant he’s picked, but the drive isn’t long before you arrive and are seated, his hand finding its way back to yours while you walk through the aisles.
As you sit there scanning the menu, you can’t help but realize you’re at fucking dinner with Bang Christopher Chan. And he’s staring at you like you wouldn’t notice.
“What?” you question, and he drops his head, chuckling.
“Nothing,” he says. “Just can’t believe how much things have changed.”
“You’re still annoying, don’t get it twisted.”
“Yeah, well, you still agreed to get dinner with me,” he shrugs.
He thinks he’s won with that, turning his attention to the menu. But even if he’s right, you aren’t letting him shame you so easily. “You would’ve begged me if I didn’t,” you smirk.
His eyes snap back to yours, the mischievous glint forcing him to fight back the more impure thoughts. “You know, that mouth is going to get you in trouble one day.”
“Yeah? By who?”
“Careful, Y/N,” he warns, words coming out through clenched teeth.
You flash him an exaggerated smile, thanking the waitress when she returns with your drinks, and Chan curses himself for being turned on by how quickly you switch from a temptress to the sweetest angel. He stumbles over his words while giving his order, and you giggle softly without even knowing you’re the cause of it.
Considering Chan had brought you to dinner, you felt confident enough to bring up the subject of what the hell was going on between you two. Specifically the Friday night you’d left unaddressed. “So, is it finally time we talk about it?”
“Talk about what?”
“This,” you motion between the two of you.
He doesn’t even pause to think about it. “We’re having dinner,” he replies coyly.
You figure admonishing him for his feigned ignorance won’t bring you closer to an answer, so instead you push further.
“But why?”
“I told you, you can post it on your story or whatever. I’m sure Jaehyun still stalks your socials.”
You’d seen quite a few random spam names in your story viewers, so you knew it to be true, but you also knew that couldn’t be his reasoning.
“You also told me you wanted to take me on a ‘real date,’” you mention, and he throws his head back against the booth.
“Jesus, Y/N,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Can we just have a nice dinner and worry about the semantics later?”
Obviously, the answer was a resounding no, which he should have expected since he understood your stubbornness better than anyone. “Oh, for you to pretend it never happened and leave me wondering for weeks? Sure thing, Chan,” you sneer.
You probably should have excluded the part where you admitted you’d still been thinking about that night, because he latches onto it and uses it to evade answering any more questions.
“I really get in that pretty little head of yours, huh?” he grins.
“Or maybe I get in yours,” you shoot back. “What did you say? Something about ‘I don’t know what I do to you’?”
He rubs his jaw, exhaling through his nose loudly. Because you really didn’t know what you do to him.
“Princess, you don’t get into my head. You’ve never fucking left it.”
Your food is brought over moments later, right on cue, leaving you sitting idly, stunned. Chan pretends not to notice, already moving past his previous admission.
“God, I am starving,” he groans. He takes a bite of his meal, and then blinks at you when you haven’t even slightly shifted. “What’s wrong? You wanna take that picture for your story now?”
If you heard the word “story” one more time, you were convinced you’d actually implode. And you’d take him with you, just to annoy him in the afterlife.
“Don’t do that,” you hiss. “Don’t act clueless.”
“Well sorry for trying to be a believable fake boyfriend.”
Nothing about this felt fake anymore, and when he says it, it feels like a harsh reminder. That vicious awakening from the middle of a good dream, pulled to the surface of reality when you’re in such a deep slumber.
“That’s all you are, right? My fake boyfriend? So why do you say and do all these things that make it feel so real?” you demand.
Your meals are all but forgotten now, and the booths around you are probably getting more of your argument than any of you would like. You swear you can see the lady in the booth to your right staring at you and then leaning over to whisper in her daughter’s ear. Hopefully she’d give her some advice to never get involved with idiotic men like Chan.
He rubs his temples, growing more exhausted by the minute. “I’m trying to figure that out. I came up with a stupid plan, and somewhere along the way the lines got blurred.”
“You blurred them!” you whisper-shout, eyes widening in disbelief.
“You let me,” he says simply, and you can’t deny it. Though he’s still far more culpable for your current situation. “Listen, we can talk about it more on the way home, yeah?”
It’s his cop-out, and you should know this, yet you relent anyway. You aren’t surprised when he refuses to discuss it further in the car, either, and when he tries to put his hand on your thigh, you push it away.
He deserves that, but it still makes him sulk internally. If he couldn’t offer you answers, you wouldn’t offer him any more of yourself. At least, you’d try your best not to (easy to say, harder to do).
When he drops you off, you hardly give him a goodbye, so he knows he’s fucked up. His chest tightens at the thought of not being able to make it right. Of letting you go without telling you everything he’s been thinking for the last month.
He isn’t even sure you’ll give him another chance, but he figures he needs to sort his mind out before he faces you again, for both of your sakes.
The texts slow and then stop altogether, and you don’t see him at all for another week. Maybe you had pushed him enough that he had been scared off (still, he could at least fake break up with you). Though you had never taken Chan for someone who could be scared of anything, especially with his constant arrogance.
“That’s just how men are. They run when shit gets too real,” Jihyo says, fixing her top.
The three of you were currently getting ready in your dorm, because the minute you had texted the groupchat stating that you were desperate for a night out, they were basically busting your door down. And you couldn’t blame them, because you were never the one to initiate, but right now, it seems like the only distraction you have left.
“I think he’s just a little confused,” Mina adds with more eloquence. “I mean, do you even know what you want?”
“Yes,” you grin. “I want to go out, have a good time, and forget about all of this.”
Mina rolls her eyes at your avoidance, and Jihyo clutches her heart dramatically. “My Y/N is so back, I could cry right now.”
You know very well that a party is not the magical cure for all your problems – in fact, it’s the indirect cause of nearly all of them – but your other option was to spend another weekend in your dorm preparing an internal monologue about Chan’s cowardice. So, yes, you were going to a party.
“You know they’re both probably going to be there, right?” Mina advises. Both of the banes of your existence, though for drastically different reasons.
“It’s fine,” you wave her off. “I won’t even notice that they’re there”
Between the three of you, there’s not a soul that believes your lie, but nobody questions it.
Though perhaps they should have, because maybe it would have made you reconsider before you ended up in your current situation. Which was searching through a sea of bodies for one particular person, even if you weren’t sure what you would do if you found him.
Mina notices, too, watching as your eyes sweep all along the room while nodding every once in a while, pretending to be engaged in the conversation. You really hadn’t caught a single word she’d said for the past three minutes.
And although there were plenty of people there, you were confident you’d be able to spot Chan out of a crowd. But so far, there was no sign of him, and you couldn’t decide if you were relieved or disappointed.
Unfortunately, however, you had spotted Jaehyun. In the back of the room, looking completely untouched, sipping on a drink with his friends on one side and a girl on the other. But he looked disinterested, not paying her any mind, nodding along indifferently. He looked like you, searching for someone amidst the chaos.
“Y/N!” Mina barks, and you turn to her immediately. “Are you even listening at all?”
“Uh, yeah,” you lie.
She throws her hands on her hips, eyebrows raised. “Really? So what do you think, should I go over there and talk to him?”
She points to the left of you, but there’s at least five guys in the general vicinity she could be referring to. Of course, you’d know who she meant if you hadn’t been so checked out while looking for Chan.
“Um, who?” you ask carefully, and she groans, frustrated. “I’m sorry! I think I need another drink. To clear my head.”
You take off for the kitchen before she can argue, the counters covered in discarded solo cups and half-empty bottles of alcohol. Tempting. Instead, you open the fridge, pulling out one of the remaining unopened cans.
When you turn around, you’re stuck in place, a firm chest blocking you from walking away. You’re about to complain, to remind whoever it is that there’s a thing called personal space, but one look up has the words refusing to come out. It’s Jaehyun, of course.
“Y/N,” he falters, studying your face as if he’d forgotten your features.
Your heart races, not from anything other than the discomfort of confronting someone who you once thought the world of.
“Leave me alone, Jaehyun,” you spit, and he steps back, granting you some space and the freedom to walk away if you so choose. But you don’t, not yet.
He takes note of your stillness, encouraging him to speak again. “I will,” he nods. “But you haven’t given me a chance to explain, and I need you to know how much I regret what I did.”
“Yeah, well, good for you.”
He sighs, and a quiet moment passes between you, one that makes you picture him kissing that girl all over again.
“Are you with him?” he asks, under his breath. You stare at him with feigned confusion, lips pressed in a taut line. This time, he speaks louder, intentionally. “Don’t play dumb, Y/N, please. Are you with Chan?”
“I don’t owe you anything.”
“You don’t. But I owe you an explanation, and if you’re with Chan…” he trails, and it sends you over the edge. You tell yourself your anger rises up solely because of Jaehyun, but it’s undeniable that half of it comes from all you’d bottled up during the days without Chan around.
“Then what? Then it doesn’t matter? You cheating on me just gets justified because I’m with Chan?” you snap, voice increasing in volume with each word. “Guess what, Jaehyun, your fuck-up is to blame for all of it.”
Even with the thumping music, your voice carries throughout the room, and a few people glance over, intrigued. Someone pushes through the crowd, entering the kitchen right as Jaehyun opens his mouth to argue back.
“Is everything okay over here?”
Both of you look over, though you don’t need to to recognize the voice. It had become your favorite, even when it was teasing you or whispering innuendos just to unnerve you.
“Chan,” you whisper, and he heads straight for you, ignoring Jaehyun’s unwavering glare.
In a few quick steps, he’s beside you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into him like he hadn’t ignored you for a week. “Hey, baby. Are you alright?” he asks, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
Baby. That was a new one. He had called you princess more times than you could count, but it had started as a taunt and never really felt like anything more than that. Baby, however, had your heart pounding and mind racing.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you swallow, finding more interest in the ground now. For a second, you forget all about Jaehyun in front of you, and it reminds you that Chan’s actions are probably directly correlated. After all, the original plan was to get back at Jaehyun, and what better moment than right now? The final act to your months-long play.
“So you two are together,” Jaehyun concludes, frowning.
“Don’t look so upset,” Chan grins wickedly. “I’ll treat her better than you ever could.”
Try not to take his words seriously, you remind yourself. He doesn’t mean it. This is all for show. But as always, he makes them sound real, adding a layer of intensity you can’t ignore.
“You’re not good enough for her.”
You’re about to chime in, to remind him he has no say in what or who is good enough for you, and that it was rich hearing that from him of all people.
“And you were?” Chan laughs humorlessly. “C’mon, baby, let’s get out of here, yeah?”
He squeezes your shoulder, looking down at you, waiting for your agreement. And as you glance between him and Jaehyun, something takes over you entirely. You pull his face towards yours, hesitating briefly to gauge his reaction. When he closes the final inches, your eyes flutter closed, his lips crashing onto yours.
It’s quick, soft, restrained, and not at all like what you expected (or wanted) kissing Chan to be, but it serves its purpose.
Jaehyun stands there, wordlessly, the most satisfying look of outrage plastered on his face. Chan sees it, too, a small chuckle leaving his parted lips. He’ll probably burn the image in his mind to remember it whenever he needs a pick-me-up.
And while you’re a blend of emotions between the kiss, facing Jaehyun, and Chan’s declaration, you keep yourself together for now, yanking Chan’s hand to lead him away. “Yeah, let’s go.”
You maneuver through bodies, making it to a noticeably more empty section of the house before you finally release his hand. If you’re lucky, he’ll go back to ignoring you, and you won’t have to discuss whatever just unfolded.
Unfortunately, you haven’t had much luck recently.
“Bold move there, baby,” he quips.
There it was again. Only this time, Jaehyun’s not around, so there’s no explaining away the pet name. Does that make it better or worse? You aren’t sure.
“Shut up,” you mumble, “I really don’t want to be here anymore.”
Your night out had been ruined, and you swore you’d be done with parties for good. At least in your dorm you could save yourself from running face to face with anyone who either cheated on you or refused to share their feelings.
“I’ll take you home,” Chan states, not offers.
“I’m not getting in a car with you. You’ve been drinking.”
It was an assumption, but a reasonable one. Though clearly incorrect, because he quirks an eyebrow and shakes his head immediately. “I haven’t had a drop of alcohol, actually,” he refutes, now pulling his keys out of his pocket and swinging them around his finger.
So much for that excuse.
“Whatever.”
He takes this as your reluctant surrender, now grabbing your hand and leading you to his car which was only a little ways down the street. And despite the kiss, you still had nothing to say to him – or rather, way too much to say to him, and no desire to say it if he wouldn’t talk first. So a thick silence falls between you, leaving you with just the lingering feeling of his lips on yours.
“Quiet today,” he comments, stealing a glance you don’t return. You keep your head pressed against the window, a dull headache already forming from the night’s events and the alcohol.
“I’m still mad at you,” you grumble.
His hands grip the steering wheel a little tighter, tongue swiping across his teeth. “I know,” he mutters.
“And I think I hate you again.”
“Well, the ‘again’ gives me some hope,” the corners of his lips tug upwards. “Means I had you on my side for a little, at least.”
“You did. Until you wouldn’t talk to me and ran like a coward,” you insult, watching his shoulders drop and smile fade as fast as it had come. You almost regret saying it. Because all your insults before had been quick, meaningless jabs that he could brush off. This one came with intent, a bitterness that wouldn’t be forgotten seconds later.
“Yeah, I deserve that,” he sighs. “We’ll talk soon, okay? When you’re not tipsy and overwhelmed.”
“I don’t believe you,” you say flatly, still not lifting your head from the glass.
He reaches across the console for your hand, rubbing his thumb against your skin. “I mean it this time. Because I’ve been going crazy without you. And that kiss just sealed the deal.”
“Please,” you scoff, forced. “It was hardly a kiss.” Hardly. Your minimization of it wasn’t wrong in a literal sense; it was short-lived, lacking the passion you knew you both had within. But regardless, it had completely hijacked your brain, so clearly it wasn’t hardly anything.
“I know. That’s the problem. I need more.”
Now, you turn towards him, trying to decipher his expression. It’s unreadable for once, devoid of that familiar smirk. You want to tell him if he needs more to take it, that he can have everything he wants if he just says the words. But those words don’t come, not tonight, and you close your eyes against the window once more.
Before you leave for your dorm, he reaches for your hand again, pulling it to his lips.
“Soon, I promise.”
You nod, trying to believe him, though you wonder if it would hurt less if you don’t.
You didn’t particularly like loose ends.
That’s why after weeks of dangling a fake relationship in Jaehyun’s face and the culmination of it all at the party the night prior, you decided to confront him fully and at least hear what he had to say before you closed the chapter for good. You didn’t owe that to him, certainly not, but you felt like you owed it to yourself. An explanation for why he did it to quell the thoughts that had never completely gone away. Which he also said he owed you, anyways.
And perhaps this was all amplified by the fact that most of the day had passed and there was no text, no call, no anything from Chan. He had only said “soon,” not “tomorrow,” but still. Some form of acknowledgement would be enough to placate you, but he hadn’t even spared you that.
So, with a final layer of lipgloss, you considered your makeup complete and mentally prepared yourself for the impending doom. You looked irresistible at least, everything Jaehyun could never have again.
But nothing could ever go to plan (once again, luck hadn’t exactly been on your side), so you aren’t shocked when a knock on your door disrupts your evening.
“Hi, princess,” Chan grins when you swing it open. Then, his eyes trail down your body, tugging his lip between his teeth subconsciously. “You look good.”
Well fuck. Why did he have to show up now? A text in advance might have saved you from unintentionally double-booking yourself, or maybe you’re at fault for assuming Chan was ghosting you again today.
“Thanks,” you smile half-heartedly, heading back to your mirror to look yourself over once more. It’s far too awkward to face Chan knowing you’re about to go see your ex, especially when you and Chan had almost established…something. Something real, beyond the pseudo-relationship.
He senses that you’re withholding something, watching you suspiciously. “Going out?” he questions, and you curse under your breath. Bracing for the storm.
“Something like that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
His tone is already accusatory and you hadn’t even dropped the bomb yet, so you really had to prepare yourself for his reaction. At best, he would storm out and you could deal with it later, after you had dealt with Jaehyun. At worst, you’d have a full-blown argument in your dorm right before the other inevitable argument you’d have with Jaehyun.
“I’m going over to Jaehyun’s,” you say softly, guilt washing over you when his face drops instantly. But you didn’t need to feel guilty – you were allowed to seek closure, especially when Chan hadn’t yet granted you transparency. Still, you can’t help but wonder if you were making the right choice.
Chan’s blood runs cold, and he waits for you to laugh in his face, to tell him how dumb he looks when he’s angry. Something snarky, something annoying. Something. Anything. He doesn’t care, as long as it means you aren’t currently getting dolled up to go see your cheating fuck of an ex boyfriend.
Instead, you say nothing, shifting on your feet uncomfortably.
“Y/N, you can’t be serious.”
“I’m just hearing him out,” you say flatly. “I don’t think that’s a crime.”
“No, it’s not a crime, but Jesus fucking Christ, you’re looking like that to go ‘hear him out?’”
You look down at yourself, a lacy bodysuit and skirt adorning your body – not to appeal to him, not at all, but to remind him what he had lost. Was it a little melodramatic? Maybe. Were you allowed to be melodramatic when confronting someone who had made you question if you weren’t enough? Definitely.
“Yes! What’s wrong with that?!”
“Everything is wrong with that!”
“Oh my god, Chan, you got what you wanted,” you throw your hands up in frustration, “I’m sure you’ll never forget the look on his face when he saw us kiss last night.”
“You think his face is what I was thinking about after we kissed, Y/N?” he asks incredulously. “I was thinking about you, only you, and how right it felt.”
Was this his confession? It was beginning to feel like it. If only it hadn’t come at such a horrible time and in such a horrible way, maybe you would be happier. Now, the words sucked the air out of your lungs, leaving you speechless and uncertain.
“So fuck what I wanted back then. What I want right now is for you to realize you deserve better than someone who broke your heart and your trust in the worst way possible,” he finishes, holding himself back from pulling you into his arms and screaming that it’s him. He’s the one who will give you everything you deserve; he’ll make it his life’s purpose to do so.
“I’m just hearing him out,” you repeat again, emphatically, though no matter how true it was or how believable you made it sound, Chan refuses to accept it.
“Right,” he scoffs, running his hand through his hair. “Can’t wait to see you two all over each other in the corner of every party again.”
You open your mouth to argue, but he’s already heading for the door, unable to take another second of seeing your face and knowing you won’t be his.
“Hope it works out, Y/N.”
The door rattles as he slams it shut, and the room feels colder, emptier. And not just because of Chan’s physical absence, but because of what it entails. The same man who you hated - and who you swore hated you - had made you feel more seen and valued in not even two months than Jaehyun had in nine. He had put more effort into a fake relationship than Jaehyun had put in a real one. You were letting that go for some semblance of closure from someone who broke you.
Previously, you had tried to convince yourself your feelings had never become real. That of course your heart would beat a little faster when Chan would remember things about you, that of course you would like the way pet names fell from his lips, that of course you couldn’t stop thinking about him in every single way possible, from pure to downright filthy. This all made sense, of course, because he was the hot guy you were faking a relationship with. It had nothing to do with Chan, and everything to do with your body and mind being too receptive of what you’d been deprived of before.
But you simply couldn’t lie to yourself any longer. And that’s why, for once, you knew what you needed to do. You type out another message to Jaehyun, deliberating each word carefully. It would be the last you’d ever give him, at least in this capacity, where he still felt like he had a small chance at getting you back.
actually, i’m not coming over. i thought about it, and nothing you say can make me forget what you did…i didn’t deserve that, jaehyun.
i know what i deserve now.
i hope you learn from this and treat the next girl better.
His texts come in quick succession, frantic pleas and apologies and then the angry ones regarding Chan. You don’t answer him or even give him the solace of knowing you’d read them. Instead, you turn your phone on DND and throw it behind you, hoping it’ll get lost in your bed sheets.
And though you’ve done the right thing, there’s still the unavoidable grief over something that once was. The only person you want comfort from right now is Chan, but you know you should give yourself the space to reflect and process properly. He probably wants some time away from you, anyways.
So you don’t call or text him. You avoid all the spots you know he frequents. You make yourself as nonexistent to him as possible. And worst of all, he doesn’t even come searching.
There’s no way for you to know how badly he wants to see your name pop up at the top of his screen, or how he waits for you outside the library on days he knows you usually study. You don’t know that he stayed up late that first night, hoping you’d call him. Each notification made his heart jump, and after the eighth one that wasn’t from you, he finally turned his phone off completely.
He didn’t want space, nor time. He wanted you. And beyond that, he wanted you to know you deserved more - that he would give you more. But he can’t fault you for any of this; he can only blame himself for not telling you sooner.
When a week goes by and it’s still silence on your end, he figures you’d forgiven Jaehyun and taken him back. And that’s just something he’d have to live with.
The days pass by slowly, monotonously, and though you argue with Mina and Jihyo that it’s healing, they complain that you’re just wallowing in needless despair (“Girl, get your man,” had been the phrase of the week).
And you wanted to, but you weren’t sure how to face him after the way you’d left things. There was a gnawing worry that he wouldn’t answer your calls or texts, so you don’t even try. No, you decide you’ll just have to show up at his apartment, and yes at nine o’clock at night, because you couldn’t put it off any longer. The yearning was almost consuming you.
Though Chan had been to your dorm multiple times, you had never been to his apartment; it was way less convenient to go off-campus where he lived. You had to get Chan’s address from his roommate, Minho, who you had already known from a shared class last semester. And he had also texted you a few times begging you to do something about Chan’s moping, because it was “making his life miserable.”
While it was off-campus, it wasn’t far, and your determination was enough to ward off the apprehension of walking alone at night (though Chan would definitely not be pleased). Still, you kept Jihyo on the phone for the whole fifteen minutes, slight reassurance for both of you.
You can barely bring yourself to knock when you arrive, feeling much less composed now that you were actually there, separated from Chan by only a door and thin walls. Your fist meets the wood without you fully realizing it, and it swings open with ferocity moments later.
“Hi,” you choke out, all of your composure gone when he’s standing before you.
“Y/N?” he asks, blinking in awe to confirm that you’re real. He’d started to accept that your presence in his life was a thing of the past, a treasured memory he’d hold onto. “What are you – Jesus, it’s so dark out. Come on, get inside.”
He reaches for your arm and drags you inside, leading you all the way to his room; Minho’s home, and Chan doesn’t quite want him to hear the moment the girl he’s been losing his mind over ends things for good. Is “end things” even the right term, since there had never been a defined “thing” in the first place?
His room is not much different from any other college student’s room, with books and papers sprawled on the desk and empty energy drink cans filling the trashcan. But it’s his, and that makes your heart swell a little.
“I can’t believe you walked all the way here this late,” he scolds. He gestures for you to take a seat on his bed, and when he sits in his chair across from you, you deflate a little at the distance.
“I had to see you,” you whisper.
He clicks his tongue, trying not to melt at your words. Because to him, you’re with Jaehyun, and there’s probably some other rational explanation for why you’d shown up at his apartment at nine o’clock. He doesn’t know what it could be, but it exists, surely. “You know if you had texted me I would’ve been there in minutes,” he asserts.
“Actually, I didn’t know that,” you correct, folding your arms over your chest, “considering the way you stormed out last time we saw each other.” Which may have been justified, but still.
“Can you blame me? You told me you were going to see your ex boyfriend who cheated on you, by the way. And then you didn’t even bother to call or text, so what was I supposed to think?”
“You could’ve called or texted me!”
“I thought you went back to him!”
He stands, chest rising and falling heavily, and he looks so distraught your anger fades. “I didn’t,” you say, softer now. “I didn’t even see him that night. We haven’t even spoken since. Or I guess that’s not totally true, he’s spammed me and I’ve ignored him.”
His eyes soften, and he crosses those few feet to sit beside you, mattress dipping under the added weight. “Why?”
There’s a million ways to answer that question, and you aren’t sure which is the right one. So you go with what flows naturally, not giving it a second thought.
“Because I realized I need more too,” you confess. “No more pretending, no more lies.”
Though your chest feels lighter with the confession, the room feels smaller and your throat tighter because Chan doesn’t speak, or move, you don’t even think he blinks. He doesn’t mean to stare at you like this, but you’ve left him stunned with words he’d only ever heard in his dreams, and he worries if he speaks he’ll wake up and you’ll be gone again.
You start to rise from the bed, fighting back tears of rejection and humiliation. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come – ”
His hand latches around your wrist, gently yet firmly, and you fall back to the bed with a quiet gasp.
“I haven’t been pretending. Not for a while now,” he breathes, and now you’re the silent one. “You’re right, I was a coward. I’ve wanted you so badly and I didn’t know how to say it.” He cups your cheek, thumb brushing along the skin faintly, confirmation that you and this moment are very real. “I should’ve told you everything. How much I think about you, how much I hate it when you’re not here.”
There’s hardly any space between you now, foreheads nearly touching, breaths intertwining.
“How I can’t get that kiss out of my head,” he exhales. “How selfish I feel for wanting more.”
You shake your head. “You’re not selfish,” you whisper, and the corners of his lips twitch into a smile.
“I am, because I want you all to myself.”
“Then you have me,” you say simply, as though such a claim wouldn’t change everything. You’ve had me without even knowing.
He can’t hold back anymore – he’s done enough of that over the past month – because those words are his absolute undoing.
“Can I kiss you right this time?” His eyes drop to your lips, awaiting, begging for your permission.
You nod eagerly, and that’s all it takes for him to place his hand along your jaw and draw your face towards his. His lips melt into your own, this time with all the passion you’d both held back before.
And while the kiss starts soft, tender, moving against each other with the carefulness of a blooming love, it quickly plunges into desperate desire. Your fingers thread through his hair, delicately at first, until you tug at the roots and he groans into your mouth.
That sound. That devilish, sinful sound. It causes the heat within your core to grow tenfold, and you kiss him more fervently now, tongues swirling together. He sucks your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging gently, then drops his head to your neck.
And when your head tilts instinctively, offering him more skin to mark as his, he can’t help but smirk because he loves having this effect on you. He’d realized it that day at lunch, when he couldn’t do anything but skim your thigh under the table. But you were offering, so who was he not to take? He nips at the skin and runs his tongue along each spot afterwards, soothing, claiming.
“Mine,” he mumbles against your neck, and then he kisses his way back up to your lips, mouth hovering over your own.
“Chan,” you rasp, “I want you.”
His lips crash against yours once more, because he can’t help himself when you’ve just said you want him so desperately. “Yeah? You want me, baby?” he asks, breathless.
You shiver when his fingers slip under the hem of your shirt, tracing circles along your waist. “Yes,” you sigh, and then louder, “yes, God, I want you.”
He grips your waist, only sheer will keeping him from ripping off your clothes and fucking you right then and there. Because he wants to savor every last moment of this, but some small part of him is going feral – not a devil on his shoulder, but his throbbing cock trying to push through the seams of his boxers. So actually not a small part, because he’s big, you can see the imprint in his sweatpants.
“Are you sure?” he questions. “Because if you want me, that’s it. There’s no more Jaehyun, no more anyone else.”
Was he genuinely asking, or just trying to make you fall apart? You can’t tell, but you’re so needy, you answer regardless.
“I don’t want anyone else.”
His hands hook under your shirt while he guides you onto his lap, and you raise your arms for him to pull it off while you settle against him. He pauses, drinking in the sight – you haven’t even taken your bra off yet – and then his palms find your breasts, massaging through the fabric.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says, thumbs flicking over your covered nipples. The moan it elicits is so delicious that he does it again, and then again, cock twitching in his sweatpants.
“You only think that ‘cause I’m shirtless,” you quip, toying with the hem of his like you needed to make things even.
“No,” he says firmly. “Always thought you were the prettiest fucking girl ever.” He reaches behind his neck, yanking his tank top up and over his head, and you swear your breathing stops momentarily. This is what he’d hidden behind t-shirts and hoodies (and that jacket you still hadn’t given back to him), and honestly, how dare he?
But you can’t focus on that a moment longer, because he dips his head down to press his lips against the tops of your breasts hungrily, dragging wet kisses all the way to your sternum. “So fucking pretty,” he repeats, fingers unclasping your bra and tugging the straps down.
His mouth is on you again before it even hits the ground, like he’ll keel over and die if he isn’t tasting you, and right now, he really thinks he might. So, for survival, he wraps his lips around your perked nipple, tongue swirling around it, then flicking.
Each careful movement of his tongue causes your breath to hitch, hips rutting against him for any sort of friction, and he moans against you. His hands grip your waist, stilling your movements, and as a punishment – if you could call it that – he bites gently and tugs the sensitive bud between his teeth.
“Chan,” you moan, and when you feel the curl of that signature smirk, you become emboldened. “Who knew your mouth could actually be useful?”
Because although you definitely didn’t hate him now, you could at least reflect on that history, if not just to drive him a little wild. And hopefully he’d fuck you just a little bit harder.
He growls then, his hand sweeping along your side to squeeze your other breast, kneading the soft skin in his palm. And when you least expect it, his hand comes down, slapping your breast with enough force to make you gasp.
“Fuck, I’m gonna miss that smart mouth of yours. Always thought it was so hot the way you’d act like you actually hated me,” he chuckles, now massaging the skin.
“I did hate you,” you rasp. You aren’t even sure if that’s true anymore, because you can’t think. His cock pressing into you has your mind in a frenzy. One where your only thoughts are of having him inside you, stretching you open, filling you up.
When he lifts his head from your breasts, his eyes are dark, lidded, and boring right through you. Daring you to say it again. To lie and see where it gets you.
“You sure?” he whispers, tauntingly. “Because I always saw that look in your eyes.” His fingers dip lower, slipping into your panties, and he laughs when you shudder. “Deep down, you wanted to know all the filthy things I could do to this gorgeous body.”
Maybe you did. It matters little what you wanted back then, because you could only think of what you wanted right now, and his fingers were drifting dangerously close to it. But he was playing with you, not bringing them any further, waiting for your admission.
“You flatter yourself,” you whisper. The wrong answer, clearly, because he pulls his fingers away, gripping your chin now. Forcing you to look at him, because he knows you won’t be able to keep up the act if he’s staring at you so intensely.
“Say it’s not true then,” he orders.
You should be able to say it. You should be able to look him in the eyes and tell him he was once everything you wanted no part of. But he starts peppering open-mouthed kisses along your neck again, unfairly, and your voice betrays you. “It’s not true,” you mumble weakly.
Your fingers fly to his hair and tangle at the strands, but he won’t let you off that easily. Of course not. He grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks between his fingers.
“No,” he growls. “Say it like you mean it.”
His commands only add to the ache between your legs, and you accept that you can’t win. Your silence tells him everything, and he releases, hand patting your cheek like he pitied you. “That’s what I thought,” he hums, satisfied.
Your breathing becomes ragged when his hand trails down again, and this time you’re sure that he’ll relent and give you what your body was craving. Or maybe that was just you trying to convince yourself.
“You never hated me. You hated that you knew I was better than your boyfriend,” he smirks, slipping his fingers into your jeans. They drag down, slowly, finally stopping right at your core. “You hated that you wanted to know what it would feel like if I touched you here,” he taunts, rubbing your pussy through the soaked fabric of your panties.
“Shit, you’re this wet for me?” he groans, fingers gliding up and down, pressing harder when they pause at your clit. “I guess I was right, then.”
Any other time you would have been able to throw something sarcastic right back at him, but not now, not when he was teasing you like this. It was the closest he’d gotten to touching you where you so desperately needed him, and your hips buck unwittingly again. “Please, Chan. Need you,” you moan.
“Yeah, I know baby,” he coos. “Don’t worry. I’ll show you everything I’ve been dreaming about doing to you.”
And then you’re pushed off of him and onto the bed, hitting the sheets with a quiet squeal. The same fingers that had been rubbing your clothed pussy now hurriedly unbutton your jeans, and you lift off the bed slightly to help him drag them down along with your panties.
Once you’re completely naked before him, his movements lull, now taking in every inch of exposed skin.
You feel like you’re drowning under his eyes, because the last person to see you like this had betrayed you, had touched someone that wasn’t you. This was the reality of infidelity – the insecurity, the nagging, cruel insecurity that seeped into places it shouldn’t. Because Chan would never.
And he sees it, too. The way you begin to falter and drift elsewhere. Your head turning against the pillow, refusing to face him.
“Hey,” he whispers, cupping your jaw, pulling your face back towards him. “Where’d you go, baby? Don’t hide from me, please.”
You swallow harshly, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Not hiding. Just…worried I’m not enough,” you mumble, and the words break him. He hated Jaehyun before, but he despises him now, because he made you – who he considered the most beautiful girl to ever grace the earth, even when you were calling him an idiot – feel less than. And that’s something Chan would spend the rest of his life undoing if he had to.
His thumb strokes your skin now, trying to wipe away the remnants of anyone’s touch that wasn’t his. “No, stop that. You’re more than enough. You’re perfect,” he says.
Your cheeks heat up from the affirmations, and he kisses you to cement them. But it's short, subdued, as he moves further down, lips grazing your neck, your chest, then your navel. He sinks lower, hovering right above your cunt, spreading your legs apart.
“So perfect for me,” he breathes, and you can feel the air hitting against you. “You’re mine now. You won’t have to worry about anyone else ever again.”
The words can barely sink in before his tongue is on you, licking a slow, tantalizing stripe between your folds. It’s so sudden that your hips lift off the bed, and his hands come quick, wrapping around your thigh and pinning you down. He swipes his tongue again, and then he takes as much of your pussy into his mouth as he can, devouring what had been kept from him for too long.
“Fuck, Chan, please,” you moan, grabbing at his hair for something to ground you. He groans into you, both from your fingers tugging and the sound of you moaning his name like that.
“You taste so fucking good,” he rasps. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking the sensitive nub hard, tugging, releasing. Then, he swirls his tongue, creating a pattern that has your back arching, threatening to come undone.
You’d thought about this. Lonely nights in your dorm, touching yourself at the thought of how he would look between your legs, about how his tongue would feel against you. But there was no way to anticipate this. He lapped at your pussy like he was starved and you were the only meal he’d get again. He’d like that, truthfully.
Your body is trembling by the time he draws his head back, and the lack of his warm tongue causes you to whine. “Patience, princess,” he coos.
Before you can beg him to touch you again, he spits directly onto your cunt, letting his fingers spread it as if your slick wasn’t enough. And the action is so erotic, so filthy that your thighs clench involuntarily and he has to hold them open.
Two fingers push inside you, and his tongue is back, flicking your clit with urgency. He pumps them languidly, curling them against your g-spot and then pulling back until you’re almost empty. His name leaves your mouth through choked cries and it only drives him further, because he needs you to unravel just like this. His tongue circles your clit in rhythm with his fingers, hitting your sweet spot with each pump, and his pace quickens when he can tell you’re close.
“Chan, please don’t stop!” you pant. “Fuck, I’m so close.”
It’s all too much - his fingers, his tongue, the lewd noises of them bringing you to the edge. “Go on, baby, give it to me,” he coaxes. “Come on my tongue for me, just like that.”
With his permission (which was much more of a plea), you let go, throwing your head back against the pillow. Your whole body comes alive with the intensity of your orgasm, ripping through you in currents while he continues lapping at your pussy lazily. It’s only when he pulls his fingers out for the final time and sucks them clean that you come down, chest heaving.
“My mouth sure is useful, huh?” he teases, laughing when you roll your eyes.
His laughter is cut short when you sit up on your knees and tug at the waistband of his sweatpants, head lowering. Your intentions are clear, but he grips your shoulder, halting your movements.
“No, no, princess, it’s okay,” he huffs, using his last bit of self-restraint. He can’t believe he’s turning down head from you, but right now, being buried inside you is his priority.
You can’t believe it either, blinking up at him sweetly, eyes wide with confusion. “But I wanna return the favor,” you pout.
Jesus, were you an angel from above or a succubus from the depths of hell, he wonders?
“Fuck, I know, baby,” he groans. “But I need to be inside you, right now.”
He sounds so desperate that you feel like you’re in control now, and you reach for his cock through his sweatpants. Wrapping your fingers around it, stroking softly. “You wanna fuck me, Channie?” you purr.
“Yes,” he growls, grabbing your wrist – all your control, gone. “You want it too, don’t you baby?” He stands, ridding himself of his sweats and boxers at once. His cock springs free, precum beading on the tip, and he cages you against the bed. “Or can you not take it? Hm? Is one all this pretty pussy can give me?”
The flip switches in you instantly, arms slithering around his neck, yanking him to you. His lips crash onto yours, all teeth and tongue, both of you at your neediest. When your hand slips down to stroke him, thumb spreading precum along his length, he lets out a low guttural sound into your mouth.
“Baby, shit, you’re killing me,” he rasps.
“Can you die inside me, at least?”
That he could do. Happily. Willingly. He reaches over you, pulling open a drawer and rummaging inside. And though you shouldn’t, you bring your hand to his wrist, stopping him.
“I’m on the pill, if that helps,” you whisper. “I need to feel you, nothing else.” Your words are sinful but your eyes are so sweet, looking up at him like you’d break if he denied you.
“Fuck, princess, you’re trouble,” he groans, shoving the drawer closed and bringing his hand to your cheek instead. He swipes away a few strands of hair that had fallen, trying to soak in every inch of your perfect face.
“You love it,” you giggle.
“God, yes I do.”
He grasps his cock and fists it a few short times, then guides it along your pussy. Your slick coats his shaft immediately, slow drags making your head spin. And when he slaps the tip against your clit, you know he’s doing it just for that. To drive you crazy, to hear your whines, to see you writhing for it. For him. Would it be appropriate to call him a smug bastard again?
“Stop teasing,” you beg, your voice a strained whisper.
“But you’re so cute like this,” he says. “What’d you say again? ‘Everyone knows I wouldn’t fuck you?’”
You buck your hips against him, a poor retaliation, and he laughs, positioning himself at your entrance. “Well look at you now, princess.”
He presses into you just the smallest bit, enough for the tip to slip inside, still teasing when all you wanted was for him to plunge inside you and fuck you senseless. That small amount of pressure is gone in an instant, leaving you empty once more.
“Chan,” you whimper. “Please just fuck me, I can’t take it.”
You might cry if he keeps this up, still sensitive from your last orgasm but so desperate for another. And while he wouldn’t mind driving you to that point, his cock is painfully hard. Even he’s at his limit.
“Oh, baby, you’re gonna take it,” he taunts, thrusting forward in one swift motion. He bottoms out and stays there, immobile, reveling in your cunt stretching around him. “Fuck. Jesus Christ, you feel amazing.”
“Would feel more amazing if you would move,” you hiss, and he actually listens. His hips snap against you with a purpose, slow and deep, watching every inch sink further.
Each thrust reaches that sweet spot that has your back arching and nails digging into him. You can already feel the fire building inside you again, clenching around him in a way that has him wondering if you’re a dream. “Fuck, your pussy was made for me,” he groans, hips bucking faster now. Less restraining and savoring, more adhering to his primal urge to fill you up entirely.
“Funny. Jaehyun said the same thing,” you pant. You aren’t sure where the confidence comes from, especially when he’s the one pounding into you; maybe he’s fucking the attitude back into you. But you know it’ll get you into trouble, the good kind of trouble, the kind where Chan wrecks you mercilessly.
And oh, he does. He thrusts wilder, rougher, almost carelessly, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing throughout the room.
“Yeah? Well he fucking lied, baby,” he growls. “Because you feel that?” His hand presses down on your stomach. “That’s all me. My cock you’re squeezing like a fucking vice.”
His hand slides down, thumb rubbing tight circles against your clit. The added sensation brings you closer to the edge, and he’s nearly there as well. “Chan, oh my god,” you moan, nails dragging along his bicep.
“You’re so tight,” he grunts. “Did he ever fuck you right?” He won’t even say the name, because it holds no meaning now. You’re his, and he’ll fuck you enough times that you won’t remember anyone else.
Your walls clench harder around him, his thumb circling relentlessly. “No,” you cry. “Not like you. Not like this.” That answer satisfies him, and he pulls back all the way just to slam into you harder.
“I didn’t think so,” he muses. He leans down, nipping at your neck. “Forget about him. All you need to remember is me and my cock ruining you like this.”
You’d already forgotten, only able to think about how Chan was the one currently fucking into you like he had something to prove. You’re so close to release, strangled cries of his name escaping your lips while your thighs clench around him. “Ah, Chan, I’m gonna come!” you whimper.
“Fuck, me too, baby,” he grunts. “You want me to fill you up? Leave your pussy leaking with my cum?”
His words are your final propulsion, and he emphasizes them with each rut of his hips. Your back arches off the bed, face contorting in pure euphoria, and Chan commits the image to memory. It matters little that he knows he’ll see it many, many more times; he wants to watch you ride every single high until the end of time.
Your orgasm washes over you, setting every inch of your body aflame, and you want more. More of him. All of him. “Yes! Please fill me up, please,” you beg, voice breaking from the overstimulation.
He can’t deny you, doesn’t want to deny you, and he couldn’t anyways. You’ve basically sucked him in, legs keeping him held in place. He thrusts into you one final time, a low groan emitting from someplace deep within, hips jerking erratically as thick, white strings of cum spurt inside of you.
When you’ve milked every last drop from him, he pulls out from your spent heat and falls to the bed dramatically, limbs flopping as if he’s dead. And maybe he is, because that was definitely heaven.
You lay there side by side, chests rising and falling in sync, staring at the ceiling like it might offer an explanation for what just happened. How you ended up like this, his cum dripping from you, your scratches welting along his back, when just months ago you couldn’t stand each other. Supposedly.
Then comes a knock on the door, and you both are struck with the realization that you’d forgotten Minho was home, in another room, hearing everything. Or rather, Chan had forgotten, and you’d never known. Never even considered it.
“Are you two done in there?” he calls from outside. You lift your head and look at Chan with wide eyes, and he shrugs like he’s just as clueless.
“Uh, yeah,” Chan shouts back. You bury yourself under the sheets, expecting the door to swing open. Thankfully, it doesn’t. But the alternative might be worse.
“Y/N, when I asked you for help, I didn’t mean by moaning loud enough to wake the neighbors in my apartment.”
Minho’s footsteps pad away from the door, and you pull back the sheets, horrified. “Was I really that loud?!” you exclaim. He hadn’t said anything about your volume or even tried to quiet you, and you were far too consumed to notice.
“A little…” Chan rubs his neck sheepishly.
You wish you could melt into the bed and disappear forever, because how would you ever face Minho again? And their poor neighbors, no less. The walk of shame was going to be unbearable. “Oh my god, that’s so embarrassing!” you groan.
He shakes his head vehemently and kisses your forehead, a small reassurance. “No! No, baby, it was so hot,” he coos. And then it hits him. “Wait. Minho asked you for help?”
“I guess you were going crazy without me,” you smirk. This time he groans, and you laugh, nuzzling into his neck. “Don’t worry. You’re not getting rid of me now.”
“Like I’d ever want to,” he whispers.
His lips press into your hair, and you can’t help but sigh against him. Because any remnants of hatred, if they even truly existed, are gone, and you’re left only with the peaceful acceptance that this was a glimpse of countless days to come.
dededos
pixelskylines
discoholicmusic
kaledo-art
snowghoul
turnnoffyourmind
