hi! i'm new to the kpop writing scene but have been writing fics for years! here's my working masterlist~
bahng chan
in progress...
lee minho
in progress...
seo changbin
in progress...
hwang hyunjin
in progress...
han jisung
she hates me, she hates me not (smau)
prologue -> pt one -> pt two
summary: after meeting han through your best friend felix, he's convinced you hate him... but as you get to know him and the rest of his friend group more, you both begin to realize your preconceived notions about each other may be a bit off the mark.
lee felix
gravity's pace (drabble)
summary: felix has been your friend long enough for you to be certain he would never feel the same... or so you thought.
pairing: han jisung x fem!reader
ss count: 22
description/warnings: misunderstanding, slightly "enemies"-to-lovers coded, mutual overthinking, smau
summary: after meeting han through your best friend felix, he's convinced you hate him... but as you get to know him and the rest of his friend group more, you both begin to realize your preconceived notions about each other may be a bit off the mark.
prologue -> part one -> part two tbd
part two coming soon
a/n: lol i'm excited for this smau series... i love me some good ol' fashioned overthinking. if i could i would've condensed this into 1 pt but oh well!
divider cred: @pixopix
pairing: han jisung x fem!reader
ss count: 15
description/warnings: misunderstanding, slightly "enemies"-to-lovers coded, mutual overthinking, smau
summary: after meeting han through your best friend felix, he's convinced you hate him... but as you get to know him and the rest of his friend group more, you both begin to realize your preconceived notions about each other may be a bit off the mark.
prologue | part one | part two tbd
next: part one
a/n: this is my first official smau - i've always wanted to do one and finally learned how to make them lol. i'm looking forward to writing part two soon! let me know what you think ^^
divider cred: @pixopix
contains: f!reader accidentally sending spicy pics of them, suggestive content, swearing, enemies to fwb?
note: i received a request for enemies to lovers seventeen smau and i loved the idea so much, i had to lock in 😌 again, making 13 smau is so difficult for me rn so i focused on 97line as i also received a lot of requests for dk!! <3
𝐃𝐊── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐲𝐮── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
𝐭𝐡𝐞𝟖 ── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
🏷️: @starrysolacefang @kittylover-inbothways @acucaradc (tags are open!)
l all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, reupload, or repost my work. message for credit for any of these photos (all credit given to the original creators).
in which your friend felix introduces you to his friend group. you immediately know you're not going to get along with their leader. he's arrogant, controlling and becoming your number one enemy. but neither of you can deny the deep-rooted desire for each other.
mdni!
warnings: heavy sexual themes, enemies, fem reader, jerking off, mentions of porn, name calling (bitch/whore/slut), a little sprinkle of degradation, deep throating (choking on his cock), use of toys (vibrator), oral, fingering, marks (hickeys/bites), bondage, safe words, spanking, unprotected sex, breeding (let me know if i forgot anything), mentions of food
wc: 9.6k
based on this drabble
felix should have warned you before introducing you to his group. instead, he had only grinned the entire drive over, one hand lazily drumming against the steering wheel while saying things like “just don’t let chan scare you off.” as if that could have prepared you for what would happen.
but you understood the second you walked in. the room shifted around him. conversations paused when he spoke. people looked at him before making decisions. even sitting back against the couch with one arm slung over the backrest, chan carried himself like he owned the place and everyone inside it.
and apparently, everyone let him.
your first impression of him settled quickly: arrogant. controlling. the kind of man who expected obedience simply because he existed.
his first impression of you formed just as fast. too observant.
he noticed the way your eyes tracked everything, the way you watched interactions instead of trying to force yourself into them. most people met him and got nervous. eager to please. careful with their words.
you didn’t. worse, you looked at him like something didn't sit right.
felix introduced you with an easy grin, entirely unaware of the tension that sparked the moment chan’s gaze landed on you.
chan leaned back slightly, eyes dragging over you once before he gave a curt nod. “heard a lot about you.” you smiled politely but your tone sounded anything but. “ditto.”
a few people in the room choked on their drinks. felix looked between the two of you like he’d just realised he accidentally lit a match near gasoline.
chan's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. and that was the beginning of it.
after that, it became a pattern, predictable in the most irritating way possible. every time you showed up, chan noticed immediately.
it didn’t matter if he was mid-conversation, or across the room pretending not to pay attention, the second you walked in, his focus shifted. like some invisible thread pulled tight between you.
you noticed it too. the way his eyes found you first. always. and somehow, every single interaction between the two of you turned into a fight.
“we’re ordering from rossi’s,” chan announced one night from the kitchen, barely glancing up from his phone. “rossi’s is awful,” you said immediately.
a silence fell over the room. han muttered, “oh, here we go.” chan looked up slowly. “awful?”
“their pasta tastes microwaved.”
“it’s italian. one of the only italian places around here."
“that doesn’t automatically make it good.”
he stared at you for a second too long before scoffing softly. “you always this difficult?”
you leaned against the counter. “you always this bossy?”
his mouth twitched, like he was trying not to smile.
that should’ve warned you. because after that, he started seeking you out. deliberately.
if you sat somewhere, suddenly chan needed that exact spot. if you disagreed with something, he’d argue just to keep you talking longer. if someone else interrupted your banter, he looked annoyed by it.
and the worst part? you kept engaging. every single time.
“move,” he told you one evening when you stole his usual seat on the couch. you looked up from your drink. “there are six other places to sit.”
“that’s my spot.”
you scoffed, “sounds made up.” the room went quiet again. felix was already grinning into his drink.
chan stepped closer, towering over the couch while you refused to move even an inch. “you enjoy testing me.”
“you enjoy acting like a fucking dictator.”
“someone has to keep order around here.”
you snorted. “order? how dramatic."
his eyes narrowed. yours sparkled with amusement.
and there it was again, that awful little pull between irritation and entertainment that neither of you seemed capable of escaping.
because no matter how much chan acted annoyed by you, he kept looking for reasons to provoke you. he’d throw comments your way from across the room just to watch you snap back.
he learned exactly what got reactions out of you. the fastest way to make you glare. the quickest way to make you roll your eyes. the comments that made your lips twitch because you were trying not to laugh.
and god, he loved when you laughed. especially if it was usually at his expense.
“you know,” you said one night after he interrupted somebody for the fifth time, “normal people let others finish speaking.”
“normal people have useful things to say.”
you groaned in annoyance, “see? this is exactly why i can’t stand you.”
“funny." he drawled, eyes fixed on you over the rim of his drink, “why do you keep talking to me then?"
your stomach flipped annoyingly hard at that. because he was right. you looked away before anyone noticed the heat crawling into your face.
but later that night, while everyone else talked around him, you caught chan watching you from the other side of the room, completely focused, making it feel far more dangerous than the arguing ever had.
chan realised something was wrong the first time you followed him without actually being there.
he was at the studio, headphones hanging around his neck while he stared blankly at the unfinished track glowing on the monitor in front of him. one hand tapped impatiently against the desk. the bass loop repeated. and repeated. and repeated.
all because his brain kept replaying something stupid you’d said three nights ago. “you always act like you’re in charge even when nobody asked you to be.”
he could still hear the smugness in your voice. could still picture the look on your face when you’d said it.
“for fuck’s sake,” he muttered under his breath, dragging both hands over his face. it was ridiculous. you were ridiculous. annoying. argumentative. impossible.
so why the hell was he thinking about you while trying to work? even worse, why did the thought of you make his chest tighten strangely?
he shoved the feeling away immediately. hatred. obviously. that had to be what this was.
except hatred usually didn’t make his pulse jump every time his phone lit up with a message in the group chat, secretly hoping it was you.
hatred shouldn't make his cock hard. and it definitely shouldn't make his thoughts slip to you when he was jerking off.
hatred shouldn’t have made him notice your absence the second he walked into felix’s apartment friday night.
he asked about you before he could stop himself. felix looked up so fast it was almost suspicious. “damn,” he said slowly. “you didn’t even say hi first.”
chan frowned immediately. “i was just asking.” felix smirked at that, “sure you were.”
he ignored the grin spreading across felix’s face and scanned the room again anyway. you weren’t there. and suddenly, the night felt off. quieter, less entertaining. he hated that most of all.
and once he noticed it, he couldn’t stop noticing it. every room he entered, his eyes searched for you automatically. every conversation felt slightly duller when you weren’t interrupting him halfway through it. every joke landed flatter when it wasn’t making you roll your eyes.
it got worse after that. at the gym, he caught himself thinking about the way you looked at him whenever you argued, so... unimpressed. like you enjoyed challenging him just as much as he enjoyed provoking you.
this was the first time he felt the pressing need to jerk off. to the thought of you.
he rushed home from the gym, cock already half-hard in his pants. had been for the past hour. even an ice-cold shower did nothing.
he dropped his gym back to the floor, making his way to his room immediately, dropping onto his bed. he ran his hands over his face, grabbing his hair.
"fuck you." he said into the empty room before grabbing his hard on through his shorts, squeezing it.
he didn't want to do it, jerking off to you. his pride, his ego, screamed at him to stop. to not do this with you on his mind. he grabbed his phone, unlocking it with one hand while his other slipped into his pants.
porn should do it. watching any other chick, hearing her moans instead of your fucking laugh in his mind. porn used to be his remedy when his mind wouldn't shut up about you. but right now it did nothing. he only saw you. only heard you.
he groaned in frustration, closing the tab on his phone, forcing his hand to stop working his cock. it twitched desperately in his fist, demanding more.
he wanted to text you. to tell you to stop invading his thoughts. tell you how much he hated you. for being so fucking mouthy. for making it impossible for him to jerk off properly. to demand you to do something about it. but he knew you'd only mock him for it.
his thumb moved on its own as it opened his photo gallery. he didn't notice what he was searching for until he found pictures of the last time you hung out with the group.
he loved the shirt you were wearing back then. loved how it made your tits look. fuck. suddenly he was thinking about your tits, wondering what they'd feel like in his hands. he imagined you arching your back, leaning into the touch as he grabbed them, squeezed them, pinched your nipples until you were whimpering.
his hand started moving on his cock again without him realising. his mind was too far gone. he thought about swirling his tongue around your nipples, sucking on them, wondering what your moans would sound like.
but he didn't only want to suck your nipples. he wanted to suck the soft flesh surrounding them. sucking, biting until it left a mark. right on your precious tit. he'd cover you in them, leaving marks all over you. fuck, you'd look so beautiful when he was done with you.
he noticed his fist jerking his cock only when he groaned involuntarily, his eyes fixated on the screen, on the picture of you. he wanted you. needed you. so bad it made his balls tighten.
he felt his orgasm approaching. fuck no, he couldn't cum to the thought of you. no matter how many times he thought of you while jerking off, he always managed to distract himself enough, think of anything but you when he found his release.
but right now he couldn't stop. couldn't stop imagining leaving his marks on you. he wanted to spank you until your butt cheeks were all red and covered in his handprints. finally making you realise who was in fucking charge.
the thought of you surrendering to him, to having his way with you, finally made him come undone. he gave his cock a few more strokes, tearing his gaze away from his phone, head thrown back against the pillow. and he blew his fucking load to the thought of you, whispering your name into the dark room.
after that, chan started gravitating towards you unconsciously. if you were in the kitchen, suddenly he needed a drink. if you were outside, he somehow ended up outside too. if you sat on the couch, he’d lean against the wall closest to you without even realising it. and then there was the hugging thing.
god, he hated the hugging thing. you hugged everyone. felix. the other members. friends arriving. friends leaving. everyone except him.
the first time he noticed it, irritation flared so fast it startled him. the second time, it became impossible not to watch.
you’d grin at somebody, arms wrapping around them casually while chan stood nearby pretending not to care. pretending not to notice. pretending he didn’t immediately wonder what it would feel like if you touched him like that. if your tits pressed against him. your scent surrounding him.
it got even worse when someone else made you laugh. especially men.
one night, seungmin had you nearly doubled over at the kitchen counter, laughing so hard you grabbed his arm for balance.
chan felt something ugly twist in his chest. before he even realised what he was doing, he crossed the room. “what’s so funny?” he asked flatly.
your laughter faded slightly as you looked up at him.“nothing you’d enjoy.”
“try me.”
"you don’t have a sense of humor.”
seungmin laughed awkwardly before quickly excusing himself the second chan looked at him.
coward.
you narrowed your eyes immediately. “did you just scare him off?”
“if he got scared that easily, that’s his problem.”
“you’re unbelievable.”
“then stop talking to me.” he said quietly, stepping closer.
the words settled heavily between you. your expression flickered for half a second. and christ, that was another problem entirely.
because lately, every time you looked at him, he forgot for a moment that this was supposed to be hatred at all.
a few days later, a heavy summer storm hit the city. and it had gotten bad fast.
rain hammered against the streets hard enough to blur the city lights, thunder rumbling low and heavy overhead while you hurried towards the studio building with your jacket pulled uselessly over your head. you and felix had made plans to go out for dinner after the studio tonight.
by the time security let you upstairs after recognising you as “one of felix’s people,” you were completely soaked. your shoes squeaked against the floor as you pushed open the studio door with an exhausted sigh already forming, only for it to die immediately when you saw who was inside.
chan sat alone in the swivel chair in front of the mixing desk, one arm resting against the armrest while music played quietly through the speakers.
of course. you sighed dramatically. “you’ve got to be kidding me.”
he glanced over his shoulder lazily. “nice to see you too.”
“where’s felix?”
“not here, obviously.”
you rolled your eyes, already pulling your phone out.“helpful as always.”
“i try.” but when chan turned fully in the chair, whatever sarcastic response he’d been about to make stopped short.
his eyes dragged over you slowly. rainwater clung to your clothes, your shirt damp enough to stick to your skin, droplets still sliding down your neck and disappearing beneath the fabric. his dick twitched. for once, chan looked genuinely speechless.
your stomach flipped annoyingly at the expression on his face. “take a picture,” you muttered.
his jaw tightened immediately, like he’d just been caught doing something illegal. before he could answer, your phone buzzed.
felix: « storm’s too bad. roads are fucked. can’t make it tonight sorry 😭»
you stared at the message in disbelief. “you’re joking.”
“what?”
“felix bailed.”
chan snorted softly. “smartest thing he’s done all week.”
and then the power cut out. the room dropped into darkness instantly. you jumped hard enough to knock your knee against the couch beside you. “shit—”
a laugh echoed through the dark. “you scared of a little darkness?”
“absolutely not.”
“you literally jumped just now.”
a flashlight flicked on a second later, illuminating the room dimly from below as chan leaned back in his chair, looking entirely too entertained by your suffering. the lighting made him look unfairly attractive. which only irritated you further.
“what, no candles around?” you asked dryly. “could make this whole thing a little cosier.”
his brows lifted. “this is a fucking studio.”
“and?”
“not exactly a place that calls for romance.”
you snorted. “pity. you probably bang a lot of chicks here considering you’re basically married to the studio. could’ve at least provided them with ambiance.”
chan barked out a laugh at that. an actual laugh. "trust me,” he said, eyes glinting in the flashlight glow, “i don’t need romance for that.”
“oh, i’m sure your personality alone does all the heavy lifting.”
“you saying i’m charming?”
“i’m saying you’re bossy. probably sucking up to people if you want something.”
he shook his head slowly, still staring at you in that intense way that always made your heartbeat feel uneven.
outside, thunder cracked loudly enough to rattle the windows. you crossed your arms instinctively, suppressing a shiver.
unfortunately, chan noticed immediately. his eyes narrowed slightly as another tremor ran through you. “you’re freezing.”
“i’m fine.”
“you’re shaking.”
“wow,” you deadpanned, “your observational skills are incredible.”
he rolled his eyes before reaching behind him blindly, grabbing a black sweater from the couch and tossing it towards you.
it hit your chest. you looked down at it suspiciously. then back at him. “…you own sweaters? wow. didn't expect that with you always running around in your stupid tank tops." you loved the stupid tank tops.
“hilarious.”
you held the sweater between two fingers. “this thing probably reeks of ego.”
“put the fucking hoodie on.”
you snorted softly, still not moving. “i think i’d rather suffer.”
“christ,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face. “stop being so fucking stubborn.”
“make me.” the words slipped out too naturally. too easily. and the second they did, the room changed.
chan went still. the flashlight from his phone cast shadows across his face as his eyes locked onto yours with dangerous intensity.
your pulse skipped. his gaze dropped briefly to your mouth before lifting again. slowly. oh, he knew exactly how to make you less stubborn.
“careful,” he said quietly. your breath caught despite yourself.
but instead of backing down, you tilted your head slightly. “or what?”
his eyes darkened slightly at that. the storm outside seemed louder suddenly, rain hammering against the windows while the studio sat in near darkness around you.
chan leaned back slowly in the chair, one hand still holding his phone loosely against his thigh. “you really don’t know when to stop talking.”
you clutched the sweater against your chest. “you say that like you aren’t the one constantly starting arguments with me.”
“because you make it easy.”
“or maybe you’re obsessed with hearing yourself speak.”
he laughed quietly under his breath. “see?” he murmured. “there it is.”
“what?”
“that mouth.”
heat crept annoyingly up your neck. you tried to ignore it. “you mean the one that hurts your feelings every other day?” you said sweetly.
“please.” his gaze dragged over you again, slow enough to make your stomach tighten. “if anything, i think you enjoy getting my attention.”
you scoffed immediately. “you’re unbelievable.”
“you came here soaked out of your mind during a storm.”
“to see felix.”
“sure.”
“god, your ego is exhausting.”
“and yet you ended up alone with me.”
the words landed heavier than they should have. you hated that your heartbeat reacted instantly. and chan noticed, your flushed face making him way more aroused than it should.
his eyes narrowed slightly, like he was studying every tiny shift in your expression.
“you know what your problem is?” you said, mostly to regain control of the conversation.
“enlighten me.”
“you think everybody wants you.”
one corner of his mouth pulled upward. “you saying you don’t?”
your breath caught for half a second. just enough. his expression changed immediately the moment he noticed. to satisfaction? or interest? something far more dangerous underneath both.
“wow,” he said softly. “that almost sounded convincing.” you glared at him. “you’re insufferable.”
“and you’re nervous.”
“i’m cold.”
“right.” his voice dipped lower on the word. you hated the way it affected you. hated the way the flashlight glow caught against his jaw, the way his eyes stayed fixed on you like he was trying to peel apart every reaction you had.
outside, thunder cracked again. you instinctively stepped closer to him. not close enough to touch. but close enough for him to notice.
a mistake. because chan's gaze dropped briefly to your bare legs before lifting back to your face.
“put the fucking sweater on,” he said quietly this time. “why? worried about me?”
his eyes held yours. “more than i should be.”
the room went painfully still after that. your pulse stumbled hard enough to make you angry.
you ended up leaving the studio an hour later once the rain calmed enough to be manageable again. not before chan practically shoved the sweater at you a second time after catching you trying to hand it back. “put it the fuck on,” he said flatly.
“wow. so caring.”
“don’t flatter yourself.”
you rolled your eyes, but you still wore it out into the storm. and annoyingly enough, by the time you got home, you realised it smelled exactly like him.
cedar wood and clean laundry. you hated that.
hated it even more when you caught yourself pulling the sleeves over your hands and burying your face into the fabric for half a second while kicking your shoes off near the door.
“oh, this is bad,” you muttered to yourself immediately. because now your apartment smelled faintly like chan too.
meanwhile, back at the studio, chan sat alone in the chair staring at his phone like it had personally offended him. the power had returned twenty minutes ago. music played softly through the speakers again. but he hadn’t gotten any work done since you left.
his mind kept replaying the way you looked wearing his sweater. sleeves hanging past your hands.
your hair still slightly damp from the rain.
fuck.
he scrubbed a hand over his face aggressively. this was getting ridiculous. you were annoying. stubborn. mouthy. constantly arguing with him.
he did not fucking care whether you got home safe. so why was he still staring at your contact like a man possessed? his thumb hovered over the keyboard. stopped. started again. stopped.
don’t text her. seriously. don’t. you’d never let him live it down.
he tossed the phone onto the desk. picked it back up thirty seconds later. “for fuck’s sake,” he muttered.
before he could overthink it again, his fingers moved.
chan: « got home okay? »
he stared at the message the second it sent, immediate regret settling in. what the hell was wrong with him? his phone buzzed less than a minute later. and despite himself, his heart kicked hard against his ribs.
« no actually. died halfway there. »
his mouth twitched instantly. god. there it was again. that stupid rush every time you answered him.
« tragic. hope my hoodie survived though. »
you snorted softly to yourself while curling further into your couch.
« barely. still reeks of your fucking ego. »
he leaned back in the chair, smiling before he could stop himself, like an idiot.
« you still wearing it? »
your eyes narrowed at the message.
« why? you miss it? »
three dots appeared almost immediately. disappeared. appeared again. you stared at your screen way too intently.
« maybe i just don’t trust you with my clothes. »
heat crept into your face annoyingly fast.
« relax. i’m not trying to steal your precious hoodie. »
« already did. »
your stomach flipped. you hated how much you liked this version of him. because somehow, over text, the banter felt even more entertaining. like all his attention narrowed directly onto you. you bit your lip before typing back.
« you this annoying with everyone or am i special? »
this time, his reply took longer. far longer. chan stared at the message for a while, jaw tightening slightly because the answer came too easily.
you’re the only person who talks back.
you’re the only one i think about this much.
you’re the only one who gets under my skin.
instead, he typed:
« don’t let it get to your head. »
a couple days later, you found yourself back at the studio again. mostly because felix had begged you to bring him lunch after claiming he was “seconds away from starving to death.” dramatic.
you sat cross-legged on the couch while felix inhaled noodles beside you, rambling about some artist they'd been working with while music played quietly through the speakers.
you were halfway through making fun of him for nearly setting the break room microwave on fire earlier when the studio door opened.
and immediately, your attention shifted. chan walked in wearing all black, headphones hanging around his neck, one hand pushing through his hair tiredly before his eyes landed on you.
his expression barely changed. but his heartbeat did. fast enough to irritate him instantly. because there you were again, sitting comfortably in his space like you belonged there now. laughing, talking, wearing that exact expression that always made him want to argue with you just to keep your attention on him longer.
“look who decided to show up,” you said casually.
“look who keeps invading my studio.”
felix looked between the two of you with immediate interest.
chan dropped into the chair across from you before his eyes narrowed slightly. “did you bring my hoodie?” you blinked innocently. “no.” his brows lifted. “no?”
“that’s what i said.”
“you keeping it now?”
you snorted softly. “maybe i like it.”
his gaze flickered over you slowly. "should i be worried?”
“depends,” you said lightly. “you emotionally attached to it?”
“not usually.”
felix looked absolutely delighted. “jesus christ,” he whispered to himself.
you ignored him. mostly because chan was still staring at you with that infuriatingly focused expression that made you feel overly aware of yourself.
“i can go get it right now if you’re gonna be dramatic about it,” you said.
the smart response would’ve been no. he knew that. he should’ve said: don’t bother. it’s just a hoodie. bring it whenever.
instead, his mouth betrayed him. “go ahead.”
you stared at him for a second before laughing in disbelief. “you are such a fucking pain in the ass.”
“you took my hoodie.”
“you told me to wear it!"
“didn’t say permanently.”
you narrowed your eyes at him while felix openly watched the exchange like live entertainment. “see?” you muttered. “this is exactly what i mean. you always need things your way.”
“and you always pretend you don’t like giving me a hard time.”
“i could think of a million things i'd rather do.”
“sure.” god, that smug look on his face made you want to throw something at him.
instead, you leaned back against the couch dramatically. “well, too bad. i’m not going home right now just because you snapped your fingers.”
his jaw twitched slightly. “fine,” he said after a second. “i’ll pick it up tonight after the studio.”
your heart stumbled instantly, hard enough to genuinely piss you off. because suddenly all you could think about was chan standing inside your apartment. wearing that look, talking to you in that low voice, being alone with you again.
you forced yourself to stay casual. “fine.” but the word came out thinner than you intended.
his eyes stayed on you for one extra second too long before the corner of his mouth tilted upward slightly, satisfied. like he’d already figured out exactly what that idea did to you too.
a little after eight, your phone buzzed. you stared at the notification longer than necessary.
« address. »
your thumbs hovered over the keyboard while your heartbeat steadily picked up speed. this was a bad idea. letting chan into your apartment, alone, at night, after whatever the hell had been happening between you lately, felt objectively stupid.
his hoodie sat freshly washed and perfectly folded on your desk like evidence of a problem you refused to acknowledge. you should’ve just brought it to the studio earlier.
after another minute of overthinking, you sent him your address anyway. the three dots appeared almost immediately.
« be there in thirty. »
your stomach flipped. “this is so fucking stupid,” you muttered to yourself. and yet you still fixed your hair before he arrived. fucking pathetic.
exactly thirty minutes later, there was a knock at your door. of course he was punctual. you had no idea why the smallest thing about him annoyed you this much.
you grabbed the hoodie quickly before opening the door just enough to shove it towards him immediately. “here. now leave.”
chan looked down at the folded sweater in your hands before slowly lifting his eyes back to your face. “cute welcome.”
“you came for the hoodie. here it is."
instead of taking it right away, he leaned one arm against the doorframe casually. his gaze stayed fixed on you while he finally took the sweater from your hands. and then he noticed it. the scent. your detergent.
his fingers tightened slightly around the fabric. fuck. he hated how much he liked it. hated the immediate thought that crossed his mind.
you narrowed your eyes. “why are you looking at it like that?”
“nothing.”
“you’re literally glaring at your own hoodie.”
“i’m thinking.”
“dangerous hobby for someone like you.”
his mouth twitched. there it was again. that tiny almost-smile that only ever seemed to appear around you. “you washed it.”
“obviously.”
“didn’t think you had it in you.”
you scoffed immediately. “god, you’re annoying.”
“you say that every time you see me.”
“because it remains true every time i see you.”
he laughed quietly under his breath before his eyes drifted past you briefly into your apartment. “you gonna make me stand out here all night?”
“that was actually the plan.”
“rude.”
“you'll survive.” but despite the sarcasm, you stepped aside anyway.
the second chan walked past you, the atmosphere shifted. you shut the door quickly behind him before you could overthink the fact that you were now alone with him again.
his eyes landed on you again almost immediately. “you nervous?” he asked suddenly. you blinked. “what?”
“you keep fidgeting.” you immediately stopped moving out of spite. “you’re imagining things.”
“am i?”
“yes.”
he hummed softly, unconvinced. “interesting.”
“what is?”
“you only get defensive when i’m right.”
“and you only talk this much when you want attention.” his brows lifted slightly. "you think i want your attention?”
you laughed once in disbelief. “please. you practically orbit around me at this point.”
that hit harder than intended. you could tell immediately by the way his expression shifted.
chan stepped closer slowly, enough to make your pulse spike.
“careful,” he said quietly. “you’re sounding very confident for someone whose heart is racing right now.”
your breath caught. “you’re insufferable.”
“you already said that.”
“because you keep proving it.”
“then tell me why,” he murmured, eyes dropping briefly to your mouth, “you still let me in?"
the tension snapped tighter instantly.
“don’t flatter yourself,” you said, though your voice came out weaker than intended. “you came here for a hoodie.”
“right.” the way he said it made heat spread low in your stomach. because suddenly it very much did not feel like this was about the hoodie anymore.
the room felt unbearably small now. every sarcastic comment, every lingering glance, every argument between you two over the past weeks suddenly sat heavy in the air between you.
chan stayed close. close enough that you could see the tension in his jaw every time you opened your mouth again. which, naturally, only made you want to push him further.
“you know,” you said lightly, even though your pulse was completely betraying you now, “for someone who supposedly can’t stand me, you spend an awful lot of time in my personal space.”
his eyes narrowed. “you think this is me trying to be close to you?”
“i think you’re obsessed with annoying me.”
a humourless laugh left him. “trust me,” he murmured, “if i wanted to annoy you, you’d know.”
your stomach tightened hard at the tone of his voice. but you still crossed your arms stubbornly. “wow. terrifying.”
chan couldn't help but stare at your arms crossed over your tits. those goddamn tits. “you should be scared.”
“of what?”
his gaze locked onto yours completely. “of how much i’m trying not to lose my patience with you right now.”
the words hit like a physical thing, your breath catching slightly. his expression darkened. “there it is,” he said quietly. you swallowed once. “there’s what?”
“that look.”
“what look?”
“the one you get when you stop pretending you hate this.”
heat flooded your face instantly. “you’re delusional.”
“am i?” he stepped even closer. your back nearly brushed the edge of the counter behind you now. every instinct screamed at you to move. you didn’t. because despite the tension winding painfully tight in your chest, despite how impossible he was, you wanted him close.
“you talk too much,” chan muttered suddenly, eyes fixed on your mouth now instead of your eyes.
you scoffed softly, though it came out shakier than intended. “yet you’re always listening.”
“that’s the problem.” your heartbeat stumbled at his low voice. “do you have any idea,” he said slowly, “how fucking badly i want to shut that smart mouth of yours?”
silence crashed between you. your breath came shallow now. because suddenly all the tension between you two finally had a name. and judging by the way chan looked at you, he’d stopped trying to deny it entirely.
you should’ve stepped away. should’ve said something sarcastic. something sharp. something safe.
instead, your eyes flicked briefly to his lips before you whispered, far too softly: “what’s keeping you then?”
that was it. whatever restraint chan had left snapped instantly. his hand caught your jaw almost desperately before he crashed his mouth against yours. like he’d been holding himself back for weeks and finally lost the fight.
the kiss was all heat and frustration and ruined patience. you kissed him back immediately, fingers gripping the front of his shirt as his other hand braced against the counter beside you.
and god, chan kissed exactly how he argued: intense and demanding. like he tried to be in control even in the heat of the moment.
a quiet sound caught in his throat when you pulled him closer, like he couldn’t quite believe this was finally happening either.
his forehead pressed briefly against yours when he pulled back just enough to breathe, both of you visibly affected now. and then the idiot actually muttered: “still think i’m annoying?”
you let out a breathless laugh despite yourself. “the most annoying."
his mouth curved against yours again. “yeah,” he murmured, already kissing you again, “but you kiss me anyway?"
you snorted against his lips. "just trying to see whether your ego is justified."
a dark chuckle escaped chan's throat, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you flush against him, his erection pressing against your lower belly.
"think you can impress me with a hard cock?" chan's hands twitched at that. he wanted to smack that smug expression of your face so badly. wanted to make you shut that goddamn mouth of yours.
instead, he inhaled sharply, nostrils flaring. "watch it." he said through gritted teeth, trying to hold onto his last bit of self control.
"or what?" you replied confidently, looking up at him, smiling way too sweetly. chan's breaths came out heavier, his hips grinding against you instinctively.
"or i will show you exactly what this cock is capable of doing to you. and spoiler alert, you're not gonna like it."
you snorted at that. actually snorted, right in his face. "yeah? think you're gonna break me, channie?" the soft nickname on your lips were his complete undoing. his cock twitched, you felt it through the fabric. he placed his hands on the counter on either side of you, pulling back but caging you in. he could no longer be this close to you, he had to get his cock away from you. because he was about to snap.
"you have no idea what you're doing to me." he spoke, voice rough. a smug expression crossed your face, you leaned forward, breath hot against his ear as you whispered, "what if i know exactly what i'm doing to you?"
his hand shot up, grabbing your hair so hard it hurt, tilting your head back. you couldn't help yourself but moan out, legs clenching together. chan smirked, grip tightening in your hair, "you fucking like that? being manhandled? where's your fucking smugness now?"
you stared at him, hating how your body betrayed you. "fuck you, chan." you muttered. but that only encouraged him. he knew he had you.
"that the only comeback you can think of?" he mocked, his other hand now grabbing your jaw, holding your head in place. he pressed his body against you again. "c'mon, put that smart mouth to work. i dare you."
but you remained silent, breaths coming out in puffs as you tried to calm your racing heart. "where did your attitude go, hm?" he asked, pushing his leg between yours. he pressed his thigh against your core, making your breath hitch, looking at you with mocking eyes.
"you asked me if i think i can break you? yes, i can. tell me to stop and i will leave right through that door. but if you say yes to this, i will make sure you forget your own fucking name."
he waited. patiently. for any answer. for a simple yes or no. you blinked up at him, mind racing, until you finally nodded your head confidently. "is that a yes?" he asked, tone still mocking. "use your fucking words." his tone was commanding as ever. but he needed to hear it, needed your verbal consent.
"yes—" you choked out. and after that, all hell broke loose.
a low sound escaped chan's throat, his grip on your hair tightening, yanking your away from the counter and towards the couch. it hurt, the way he was handling you. he pushed you towards the sofa, finally letting go of your hair. "undress." he said, standing tall in front of you, arms crossed as he watched you. "i'm not gonna ask again."
your fingers trembled slightly as you started undressing yourself, eyes never leaving his. "for fuck's sake." chan muttered, clearly impatient. he smacked your hands away, basically ripping your clothes away. his hands roamed over your body, feeling your warm skin against his fingertips. you felt better than he could have ever imagined. he groaned, his mouth suddenly back on yours. the kiss was laced with desperation as his hands grabbed your tits, squeezing them through your bra before taking it off with skilled fingers. "fucking perfect." he muttered more to himself than you.
he pinched your nipples hard, needing to know how you react to it. you hissed, biting your lip, gaining a smirk from chan.
he pushed you down on the couch, standing tall in front of you. his thumb traced over your lower lip. "open." he grabbed your hair, tilting your head back. "tongue out." your jaw clenched slightly, not wanting to obey him, wanting to challenge him. but when his grip in your hair tightened painfully, you opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out. chan leaned forward, spitting into your mouth before sliding two fingers along your tongue. he moved them further into your mouth, his cock twitching in his pants.
"i'm gonna show you how to put that smart mouth of yours to good use, yeah?" he muttered as he started sliding his fingers in and out of you. you wrapped your lips around them, looking up at him. he pulled your hair harder, tilting your head further, retrieving his fingers from between your lips and smacking your cheek hard. "fucking answer when i'm talking to you."
your breath caught in your throat, eyes watering the slightest bit. "well right now, you're all big words and no fucking action." your snappy response earned you another slap against your cheek, coating it with your saliva that was still on his fingers.
"you fucking bitch." chan just shook his head, unable to believe that you still had the audacity to talk back. he yanked your hair. hard. moving you to lie on your back, head on the armrest of the couch. he pulled you further until your head was hanging over the edge.
he was already working on his pants, pulling them down, freeing his cock, right over your face. he gave it a few strokes, watching you. he didn't waste another second, tapping it against your lips. you smelled him, the saltiness of his precum coating his tip.
he didn't push in, not yet. he smeared his precum over your lips. "tap my thigh three times in a row if it gets too much. understand?" he asked, growing more impatient by the minute. you nodded. fucking nodded. "words, sweetheart." he said through gritted teeth.
"i understand." you said.
"good girl."
"don't fucking call me that. i'm not your good girl."
chan only grinned at that. "you'd rather i keep insulting you?"
"i'd rather you finally put that cock to use." you snapped back. he smacked your tit, making you flinch. "yeah, i fucking should. shut that goddamn mouth of yours for once."
and with that, he pushed his cock past your lips, his hips snapping involuntarily, shoving his length down your throat. "fuck—" he cursed loudly, watching your throat, how it took shape of his length. "holy—"
you immediately gagged around him, not having expected him to just shove his entire length in with no further warning.
and he fucking kept it there, making you choke, cutting off your air supply. you tapped his thigh three times, and he immediately pulled back, realising that he got caught in the moment. you immediately took a deep breath, coughing.
"you want to be treated like a fucking whore, then fucking take it like one."
"you're a fucking asshole, bang chan, you know that?"
a dark chuckle erupted from somewhere deep inside him. "yet you still take my fucking cock like you're my own personal slut." and before you could say anything, he rammed his cock back into your mouth, deep down your throat.
his hips moved in quick little thrusts, fucking your mouth till you couldn't breathe, pulling back to let you get some oxygen before repeating his movements. his hand reached for your throat, squeezing it, feeling the pressure of his own hand around his cock buried deep down.
you choked. hard. your body started jolting until he finally pulled out, a long strip of saliva still connecting your mouth to his cock.
"you're trying to fucking choke me to death?" your voice sounded hoarse, your throat so raw it hurt to talk. chan just grinned down at you, his fingers smearing your own saliva all over your pretty lips. you caught his finger, biting it.
"fuck! you bitch!" chan called in surprise, withdrawing his hand, connecting it to your cheek with a hard smack. and of all possible things you could have done, you fucking moaned at his action. "you're un-fucking-believable." chan muttered through gritted teeth.
"on your hands and knees." he ordered, voice way too calm for the storm inside him. you snorted. "don't fucking boss me around like that."
chan was losing his patience. he grabbed you, handled your body with a strength that left you breathless as he flipped you over on your stomach. "don't make me tie you the fuck up."
you snorted again. fuck, it drove him wild. he wanted to punish you for fucking breathing. "be my guest. i don't own any ropes."
a slow, wicked grin spread on chan's face. "oh, trust me. i can get very creative." and with that, his hands left you and you heard him wander off. you turned your head to the side, watching him waltz around your apartment like he fucking owned the place.
"what the fuck are you doing?" you snapped, already shuffling to get up.
"if you dare move even a fucking inch, i'm gonna spank your ass till it's burning red." your breath hitched at his words. but that still didn't stop you from rising to your feet and following him. who did he even think he was?
you found him in your bedroom, picking up a belt that was stored neatly in one of your drawers. he looked ridiculous. going through your stuff, half naked, his stupid cock still glistening with your saliva.
you stood there, butt naked, crossing your arms over your chest. "stop fucking going through my stuff."
"why? hiding something you don't want me to find?"
you snorted, "no. just don't like fucking assholes going through my things."
he walked past your bed, opening the drawer of your nightstand. "oh my god! you have no fucking respect!"
you knew what he would find. and you couldn't care less. he held up your pink vibrator a few seconds later, grinning like he found a precious treasure. "cute." he muttered.
"oh wow, blame a girl for owning a goddamn vibrator."
chan turned around, standing in front of you, vibrator in one hand, belt in the other. "you get yourself off with this thing?" he asked, eyebrows raised.
"yes." you replied confidently but couldn't suppress the soft flush spreading from your neck to your face. chan grin only widened. his eyes travelled past you, landing on a light scarf hanging over the back of your desk chair. "perfect." he muttered, walking past you to grab it. "remember how i told you not to fucking move?"
you rolled your eyes, "remember how i told you not to boss me around?"
chan came up behind you. you could feel the heat radiating from his body. he threw the vibrator and the scarf on the bed. your eyes followed the items. "you know, that scarf is actually my favourite, if you ruin it—"
"don't care." he cut you off, grabbing your wrists, yanking them behind your back harshly. he tied the belt around them, making you gasp.
"and the only thing i plan on ruining," he moved his hands up your arms, fingertips ghosting over the skin, giving you goosebumps. "is you."
his lips connected to your shoulders, leaving a few kisses till he reached your neck. his arms snaked around you from behind, pulling you flush against him, his cock hard against your butt. he bit your neck hard, making you hiss, before sucking the flesh, making sure to leave a fucking mark.
he pulled back slightly, watching the skin change colour, grinning in satisfaction, before repeating it a little further up. your ass ground against his cock, making him suck your skin harder.
"fuck, you like getting marked like a fucking whore?" he whispered against your skin, his hands squeezing your tits, thumbs brushing over your nipples, making you moan. "chan—"
you moaning his name like that was his complete undoing. he needed more. needed more of you moaning his name, screaming it.
he grabbed the small vibrator from the bed, turning it on and guiding it over your hardened nipples. you pressed yourself harder against him, soft moans now constantly leaving your lips. he started grinding his hard cock against you, moving the vibrator down to your cunt, running it over your clit lazily. you arched your back, your hips starting to move against the toy. "chan, please—" you couldn't suppress the soft whimper, no idea where the sudden needy tone came from. but it made him lose his mind.
he threw you on your bed, yanking your ass up before you could even gather yourself, your hands still tied tightly behind your back.
he started wrapping your scarf around your thighs in figure 8s, tying them together. once he was done, he took a step back, admiring the view. you turned your head to the side, pressed against the mattress, ass in the air. you tried to get a glimpse of him. he stood there, swallowing hard, just... watching you.
"you're a fucking weirdo, bang chan."
his eyes didn't move away from your bare core, "shut up or i will gag you." he said as his eyes finally met yours. he moved closer to the bed, leaning forward, brushing a few loose strands of hair out of your face. "if anything gets too much, you use the word 'red' and i will stop immediately, okay?" you blinked at him a few times. the fact that he still ...cared, despite the hatred, despite you riling him up constantly, made something warm settle in your chest. "okay."
his hand started caressing your butt cheeks, way too softly. the serious expression on his face was replaced by a smirk. and then he smacked you. hard. you couldn't move, hands tied together, thighs tied together. all you could do was flinch.
"you should learn to fucking listen. if i tell you not to move, you don't fucking move." another smack. you opened your mouth, wanting to protest. he cut you off with another deliberate slap. "don't you fucking dare talking back right now." he said, making you grin. fucking grin.
"god—" he shook his head, his next smack making you wince from the sting. and then his finger just entered you with no fucking warning. you moaned out loud in surprise, moving back against his touch.
chan let out a dark chuckle. "you're so fucking desperate, it's pathetic." he said, his finger moving in and out of you with ease. "so fucking wet."
his free hand slapped your ass again, so hard it left a handprint. he added a second finger, curling them inside you, making you moan involuntarily. "fuck, chan—"
his cock twitched at you moaning his name again. fuck, that did things to him. "again." he muttered, teeth clenched, trying to keep any bit of self-control. "moan my fucking name again." he pumped his fingers faster, curling them at just the right spot, his name leaving your lips in soft moans, driving him insane.
he dropped to his knees, pulling his fingers out of you and burying his face into your cunt. "fuck!" you cried out, body jolting forwards. he grabbed your hips harshly, holding you in place as he fed on you like a man starved.
"tastes so fucking good." he groaned against you, his tongue swirling around your clit a couple of times before licking up to your entrance, pushing inside you. he reached for the vibrator again, turning it on, bringing it to your clit, while his tongue moved in and out of your hole.
you ground your cunt against him, moaning shamelessly as you felt your orgasm build up. "chan—" you moaned and he knew. he wanted to deny you the orgasm, wanted to edge you, to make you feel as desperate as you always made him feel. but he couldn't. not when you were moaning so sweetly. not when your cunt was grinding against his face so desperately.
your legs started trembling and he threw the vibrator away. it scattered on the floor somewhere as chan grabbed your hips harder, fingers digging into you so hard, they'd leave bruises. he held you in place, burying his face deeper inside you.
"just fucking come on my face already." he murmured into you, big hands moving to your ass, squeezing the cheeks harshly.
you tried to hold back your orgasm, not wanting him to feel even the slightest amount of pride for making you come. and he noticed. noticed the way you tried to hold back.
"for fuck's sake!" he groaned, pushing two fingers back inside you, curling them right where you needed them, making you cry out.
"stop being so fucking stubborn." his fingers pumped into you relentlessly, hitting your g-spot again and again, making you see stars, head spinning. until you finally could no longer hold back. with one last flick of his tongue over your clit, you came undone. he guided you through your orgasm and you could feel his fucking grin against your cunt.
"that's it." he murmured, clearly satisfied with himself. "just shut the fuck up." you snapped. bad idea. he smacked your cunt so hard, it made you lose balance, collapsing onto the mattress. with your legs and hands still tied, you couldn't lift yourself up, legs still shaking from the intensity of your orgasm.
chan just chuckled darkly behind you, giving his cock a few pumps, watching you being completely at his mercy. he's been dreaming about this, fantasising about it. his eyes wander over your body, spotting every goddamn mark he left. bites, hickeys, fingerprints. he loved it. but he needed more.
he reached forward, grabbing your hair and yanking you back. his breath was hot against your ear, his cock pressing against your ass. "i'm gonna fuck you now, yeah? fill that pretty little cunt. mark you properly."
he gave you a few seconds to protest, but you didn't. you were still catching your breath, body still trembling. he let go of your hair, starting to undress himself. you didn't want to look. you knew he was handsome as fuck, didn't need a proof of that. but you couldn't help turning your head, watching him over your shoulder. fuck.
"stop staring." he said, not even looking up as he neatly placed his clothes over the chair at your desk. your eyes traced his toned body, all the way to his perfect ass. goddamnit.
"don't fucking flatter yourself." you snorted, but your words lacked any bite. chan ignored it, standing behind you, cock fucking throbbing and all. "ass up." he ordered. you struggled against the restraints, trying to move back onto your knees.
"fucking pathetic." chan murmured as he gripped your hips and pulled you up. his hands sprawled over your butt cheeks, squeezing them. you hissed. they still hurt from earlier.
chan just watched you for a while, with you getting impatient. "stop staring." you repeated the words he just threw at you, grinning to yourself. his hands flinched against your butt cheeks, ready to smack the shit out of you, but he took a deep breath instead.
he spit down on his cock, using one hand to spread his saliva over it, before pushing inside you with no further warning. "fuck!" you cried out, jolting forwards. "godfuckingdamnit chan!"
you were so fucking wet, he just slid right in, all the way. he gritted his teeth, trying not to think too much about how fucking good you actually feel. trying not to think about how he actually, finally, has his cock buried inside your fucking cunt. trying not to think about— fuck. his cock twitched inside you, realising how your walls are clamping down on him.
it pissed him off. how good you felt. how warm you were. how fucking wet. how much he wanted you, even though he finally had you.
he grabbed your hair, wrapping it around his hand, yanking you back forcefully, his cock buried to the hilt. he yanked until you were pressed against his chest. "i'm not gonna last long if you keep clenching your fucking walls around me."
your soft moans turned into a snort. "who's pathetic now? you haven't even fucked me properly, channie."
he lost it at the sweet nickname on your lips. his free hand smacked your ass. hard. grabbing your hips. the grip in your hair tightened as he started moving. his hips snapping brutally, each thrust into your sensitive cunt making you whimper.
"you drive me fucking insane." he murmured against your neck before biting down hard, making you cry out in surprise. he groaned against your skin, keeping a steady rhythm. you cried out his name again, and again, making his head spin.
he let go of your hair, forcing you to fall onto the mattress, grabbing your hips, fucking deeper into you. his pace brutal and intense. until your legs could no longer hold you up. they shook so violently, you collapsed onto the mattress.
but he didn't stop. he adjusted to the changed angle within seconds, pushing your hips further down, hips slamming against you, fucking you into the mattress. he moved one hand between your shoulder blades, the other staying on your hip, almost his entire weight holding you down.
"chan—" everything was overwhelming and the familiar knot started tightening in your stomach. his cock rubbed against that sweet spot deep inside you, making your walls clench violently around him as you came hard.
chan cursed under his breath, your orgasm triggering his own. his thrusts become sloppy, desperate to fill your cunt with his load. desperate to fucking breed you.
with a guttural groan, he stilled deep inside you. his arms shook slightly as he emptied himself into you. you felt it, his thick load warm inside you. "fuck, that's it." he murmured almost inaudible, his hips doing small micro thrusts.
he removed his hands from you, placing them on the mattress beside you. but he didn't pull out. not yet. he reached for the belt around your hands, undoing it, freeing you.
you were both breathless, panting heavily. chan's hand reached for your face, swiping some loose strands away. "you okay?"
your body was sore. you were hyper aware of every mark he left on you, your skin burning. but you nodded. the intensity of both your orgasms was enough to make up for the soreness.
he pulled out slowly, sitting back, watching you. your legs were still tied together, looking absolutely perfect to him.
when his cum started dripping out of you, his eyes widened, addicted to the view. "fuck," he groaned, fingers catching the thick liquid, smearing it over your cunt. when more started dripping out, he groaned.
he collected every drop, pushing two fingers inside you. "chan?!" you called out in surprise, but his name died on your lips, turning into a moan. his mind was fucking gone, as he started fucking his cum right back into you with his fingers.
"fucking appreciate the load i gave you." he said, voice dark. he smacked your ass, fingers pumping in and out of you, pushing his cum back inside.
"don't lose a single fucking drop or i'll have to fill you up again."
and right then, fucking his seed back into your cunt, having you whimper at his touch, moan his name with a broken voice, one thing became perfectly clear to him. that he didn't want this to be a one time thing. already too obsessed with the way your body reacts to his.
inexperienced!felix who always stares at your tits and thinks that you don’t notice
inexperienced!felix who literally cums in his pants after your makeout session because your hand brushed across his crotch
inexperienced!felix who thinks about what your mouth would feel like, as he showers, running his hand under the warm water and creating an ‘o’ shape with his hand, fisting his cock
inexperienced!felix who physically cannot stop himself from getting hard all the time around you - actually, not even just around you. he catches a whiff of your perfume in a store, he is getting hard right there and then
inexperienced!felix who accidentally (he promises it was an accident!!!) walks into the bathroom when you’re stepping out of the shower and his mind goes completely blank. the only words he can splutter out are sorry’s and oh’s.
inexperienced!felix who gets pinned down by you who is still damp from the shower, and he really, really likes it
inexperienced!felix who moans when he touches your body as if he is feeling the pleasure for you
inexperienced!felix who does not understand the pacing of foreplay, or of the actual act of fucking you and just ruts himself against you, and inside of you at uncontrollable speed
inexperienced!felix who is a whiner before a groaner - whimpering with his bottom lip in between his teeth, eyes watering and red splotches appearing in his chest from all of the excitement
inexperienced!felix who cums so deep in you that you see stars, and instead of pulling out, he holds you there on top of him, his cock still throbbing with pent-up need
inexperienced!felix who flips you onto your back for round two, since he is no longer inexperienced and this man is still horny!!!!
a/n: i’m back!!! (jk i just decided to finish and edit a badly written draft 😫) perverted/inexperienced felix just lived in my head rent free for so long i needed to share this with someone… but i’m sorry!! work has been kicking my ass and my creativity has been sucked out 🫠
pairing: felix x fem!reader drabble, insecurities/comfort friends to lovers, smut summary: felix has been your friend long enough for you to be certain he would never feel the same... or so you thought.
wc: 1.8k
You’d known Felix almost as long as you’d been a college student. You met in some gen ed that neither of you were actually interested in taking, but nonetheless both needed the credits. You were pleased to find that he was an exceptional project partner – easy to work with and more importantly, actually did the work. So, it became a bit of a routine to partner up with each other when you had the option.
Group projects turned into study sessions, study sessions turned into brief coffee runs, coffee runs turned into takeout boxes and movie nights until you and Felix were practically inseparable. Inseparable, to the point that even after graduating, you didn’t bother promising to keep in touch – it was a given.
If you’d asked any of your friends, a particularly eloquent (and perhaps poetic) one (hyunjin) may even say you orbit each other, like two planets that, by the laws of nature, must abide by the gravitational pull that brings you together as if it’s inevitable. When you needed a pick-me-up? Felix was there with his signature brownies and a grin, ready to listen or try to make you laugh. When he was drunk and needed a ride home? You just so happened to be in the area.
So, in compliance with the universe's demands, you fell for him. Hard. It was difficult not to when he was one of the only men in your life who truly showed you what it looks like to be cared for unconditionally, and what it feels like to receive such selfless acts of kindness. How could you not fall in love with him when he was everything you didn’t know you were looking for?
And yet… the two of you, like stars, seemed to constantly dance around each other–like the gravity that pulled you was so intense that to completely obey it would be risking too much–all that you have in each other. You were fairly certain, after all, that he danced this way because he enjoyed the game; your company was a comfort, but not a forever home. While you danced with the hope of something more, you were insistent (despite your friends’ protests) that you were alone in your hidden feelings. It was as if the universe, in a unique kind of cruelty, was showing you exactly what you could not have by dangling it right in front of your face.
“We’re just friends, Seungmo.” You insisted again, exasperated.
Seungmin leveled you with a look, unimpressed. “You keep saying that, but it’s not true. I’m telling you–I just about gag every time I’m around you guys. I’ve never seen two people flirt so aggressively with one another and then insist in the same breath that everything I’m seeing–reality, mind you–is a lie.”
You sigh, “I think you just like the drama of it all–the idea that he might like me back. Which we all know he doesn’t.”
Seungmin shakes his head, glancing up at the ceiling as if trying to muster strength. “Look, I’m not gonna speak for him because I don’t have a death wish but I’ll just say this: I’m his roommate, y/n. His roommate. You think I don’t hear things?”
You blanch. “Wait, what? That’s so gross why are you–”
“I meant he tells me things. And I listen. That’s all.” His mouth twists into a judgmental half-smile, “Tsk, tsk. You and your depraved mind.”
Your face flushes. “You made it sound so misleading!”
He laughs, getting up from his spot on the carpet of his shared apartment with your crush. “That was all you. I didn’t say anything.”
“That’s the problem!”
A familiar voice interrupts your argument. “What sounded misleading?”
Felix.
“Nothing–” You say at the same time Seungmin says, “Just something I said.”
Felix pauses for a moment before squinting his eyes, “...What did you say?”
You widen your eyes at Seungmin in warning–NOT. A. WORD.
Seungmin glances at you then defiantly answers, “I said that because I’m your roommate, I hear things from you.”
Felix’s brows narrow a fraction as he replies, “About…?”
Seungmin stares at him briefly before darting his eyes over to you, then back at Felix, raising a questioning eyebrow.
For a moment there’s a silent conversation between them, one you can’t decipher in their facial expressions alone, but you can tell Felix isn’t thrilled.
Finally, he swallows thickly then speaks, “y/n, what... did he tell you…?”
You blink, surprised. “Nothing, really, just what he already told you. And before we weren’t really–well, it’s nothing, seriously.”
He sighs, almost as if he’s relieved.
After giving Seungmin a light smack on the arm, he says with his usual grin, “Just ignore him, he doesn’t know what he’s saying.” With a laugh he adds, “So, what've you been up to, pretty girl?”
At that, Seungmin sighs and walks away, muttering something about “not being witness to this”, slamming the door to his room behind him.
Your cheeks are still red from the compliment, but you can’t help disclaiming with a shy laugh, “I’m not really all that special, but thank you anyway…” You pause, “Wait, that sounded like I was fishing for compliments, sorry. I just mean like… you’re sweet. Thanks, Lixie.”
Felix’s brows furrow and he quickly approaches you, sitting right next to you on the floor.
“Hey, look at me, yeah?”
You timidly lift your gaze, feeling a sense of shame wash over you.
“You are pretty, y/n. You’re beautiful. Seriously, don’t say stuff like that anymore, alright?”
You glance away muttering a soft, “Sorry, I know it’s kinda annoying…”
Tentatively, as if asking a silent permission, he places his hand on your arm. “Y/n, angel, I’m not just saying that to make you feel better. And… you don’t need to apologize, I’m not annoyed. If you need to be reminded that you’re drop-dead gorgeous, I don’t mind. I like being here for you.” His thumb rubs calming circles on your skin. He continues, his eyes meeting yours in determination, “I mean it. And as long as you don't mind... I'd say it anyways.”
He swallows, glancing down at your lips before meeting your eyes again. Barely above a whisper he says, “I like what I see.”
You stare at him incredulously, “What?”
His eyes dart back to your lips, and he unconsciously leans closer, his voice growing huskier, deeper, “I said,” his palm hesitantly slides down to your waist and he squeezes it lightly, “I like what I see. A lot.”
You unconsciously lean into his touch, moving your mouth closer to his. “Then maybe you should kiss me.”
His lip quirks up as he closes the gap between you, his lips pressing against yours with a sense of urgency, his other hand coming up to cup your jaw. As he kisses you, he lets out a soft huh, as if a question he’d long held had been finally answered. His hand grasping your waist moves to your hips, squeezing as he lets out another sigh, then gently, tentatively his fingers sneak under the hem of your shirt, as if he needs to touch you skin-to-skin everywhere. You feel as if you’re a banquet, and he’s a starving man, desperately trying to reign in his greed for more, more, more.
Abruptly, his lips leave yours and you can’t help the sound of protest you make.
“I know, baby, I know.” He murmurs, his mouth moving to kiss your jaw reverently, then moving to your neck.
He pauses there, his teeth gently grazing your pulse point, eliciting a gasp from you. You feel him grin against your throat as he gently licks, then bites–immediately soothing it with another lick before sucking.
His fingers under the hem of your shirt begin to slide upward, and he mutters a soft, “...Can I?”
You arch your body into his palm, “Please.”
He laughs, almost giddy, “Atta girl… I’ll take care of you–” He leans in and kisses your collarbone, “--And I’ll show you just how long I’ve been wanting to do this. Fuck, you’re so beautiful, you know that, pretty girl?”
You sigh against his touch, nodding, “I need you, Lixie. Please.”
He groans kissing you again, licking your lip to gain entrance to your mouth. His wandering hand slides further up your stomach until it’s splayed across your breast, and it’s then he squeezes again and murmurs, “I can’t believe you’re real oh my god–”
His words are interrupted with a gasp as he feels your fingers run against the waistband of his jeans and boxers, your fingertips teasing.
“H-hold on sweetheart–” He stutters as your hands run up and down his chest, then begin tracing the v-line low on his stomach.
His hand finds your wrist and he gently pulls it away, earning a pout from you.
“Sweetheart–just–I don’t wanna cum yet–” He laughs self-deprecatingly, “And if you keep doing stuff like that I seriously think I’ll–” He pauses, licking his lips. “I wanna make you feel good first angel. Please?”
His hands caress your thighs in question, and when you nod, he grabs at them, leaning in to whisper, “Not here.”
When you whine he smiles pleadingly, “I wanna give you the princess treatment, love. I’m not tasting you while you lie on the living room carpet.”
Begrudgingly you nod, and in between kisses and messy footsteps, you stumble to his bedroom. Closing the door with his foot, he leads you to the edge of his bed, easing you onto the mattress.
His tongue peeks out of his lips as he stares at you for a moment, “I’m trying to be a gentleman–I am, y/n–but God. I’ve dreamt of this. You–exactly like this.”
His hands slide up to your thighs, slowly spreading them apart.
“Can I, angel? Please?” He asks.
You lift your hips off the bed in answer, and watch as he slowly slides your shorts and panties off and discards them onto the floor.
His eyes are nearly pitch black with desire as he gazes at you. His hands spread your legs further, pressing against your inner thighs to hold you.
When he tastes you, he moans, muttering nonsensical sweet nothings and compliments in between confessions.
You cry out as he learns exactly how you like it–soft and teasing, then rough–his fingers and mouth working in tandem.
“Please–oh my god, Lix–I need to feel you–” You moan, “Don’t stop–fuck–”
“Cum for me baby, you can do it–”
When you reach your high, he smiles softly, continuing his ministrations with a gentle, “Good girl. So stunning, just like this.”
And when he slides into you?
“You take me so well–fuck, baby–”
And now you’re certain the universe is at work, the way you pull him in and he slides into you, like you were made for each other–like two puzzle pieces connecting.
And when he moans against the crook of your neck when he finishes inside you, you finally understand–you always wanted each other. You just didn’t know it yet.
a/n: this is my first time writing officially and posting a drabble for skz lol! ik it's really short but oh well lol. i feel like it's not v good but whatever! lmk what y'all think divider cred: @pixopix
korean is still extremely hard for you, even after one year being stray kids' staff, and minho is determined to help you
⤷ a/n : one more request for my list >////< i have to admit this one was kinda tricky because i had to test so many apps to translate my thoughts ;□; it was meant to be a headcanon but i got carried away and turned out to be a lil one shot ;) anyway i might have to revise this again later
⤷ contains : + 18 alcohol dirty talking p in v sex cunningulus safe sex (yay use condoms!!) ⋮ ⌗ ┆ wc [ 3.8k ] — tags : @jisungml + @smiileflower
⤷ now playing : stateside by pink pantheress + zara larsson
The studio speakers finally went dead, leaving nothing but the sound of heavy breathing fogging the mirrors on the dance room. Minho didn't drop to the floor like the others, he still stood in the center of the room, pulling the collar of his soaked shirt away from his chest and staring intensely at his own reflection. In the background, Changbin and I.N were already talking about getting food, but his eyes continued fixed on the mirror, tracking the exact second his foot slipped during the bridge.
“민호씨 (Minho-ssi)!” The choreographer called out, waving a tablet.
Before he could take a step, the studio door clicked open. You slipped in, face mostly hidden under a beige cap, keeping your back almost pressed to the wall as you moved toward one of the senior trainers. You bent into a quick, tense bow and whispered something that wasn't korean, the vowels were too soft and the rhythm was completely different.
The trainer didn't look up from her clipboard. She just let out a sharp sigh, rolled her eyes, and barked a dry “그래 (Sure).”
You bit your lip, your fingers twitching against the strap of your hoodie. Without another word, you turned and practically bolted out the door. Minho watched the door click shut, his brows knitting together.
By midnight, the building was mostly dark as Minho finally gathered his gym bag, sneakers squeaking loudly in the desert hallway. Near the exit, one last group of female staff members passed him, their tired faces lighting up while they offered quick bows.
“수고하셨습니다, 민호씨 (Good work, Minho-ssi).”
“조심히 들어가세요. 수고하셨습니다. (Please be careful on your way out. Thank you for your hard work.),” he replied, giving them a small nod.
As their giggles faded down the street, probably towards the nearest bar, the lobby went quiet again. When he noticed a silent shadow tucked near the vending machines.
It was the same beige cap from earlier, but this time you were sitting on a low stool, face buried behind a black mask, staring so hard at your phone that you didn't hear him approach. Minho stopped a step away, tilting his head to look over your shoulder. On the screen, a picture of a blue coastline flashed next to a text cursor of some korean-learning app, where your thumb hovered over the keyboard a bit hesitant.
“해안 (coastline),” Minho said into the quiet space.
You jumped on your seat, the phone nearly slipping through your fingers before you caught it against your chest.
“The word,” Minho pointed a nonchalant finger at the screen, completely unbothered by startling you. “You are new here? Never saw you.”
“Ah…” You pulled your mask down slightly, your voice a little shaky. “I am... stylist assistant. One year. Just small gigs.”
“Stylist assistant?” Minho tilted his head, absorbing the foreign language he also didn’t feel quite used to after all those years. “Cool. One year is... a long time.”
“네 (Yes),” you muttered, looking down at your hands. “하지만 한국어는 (But korean)… still very hard for me.”
“Oh, Felix too,” Minho shrugged, his sharp features softening into a casual smirk and a light chuckle. “He makes mistakes every day. It's okay.”
Headlights cut through the glass doors of the lobby, painting the walls white. A black cab pulled up to the curb outside, you glanced at your phone, hastily grabbing your clothes’ bag from the floor.
“I need to go. 수고하셨습니다 (Thank you for your hard work),” you said in a rush with a shy smile, throwing a clumsy bow before jogging out into the night.
Minho stood in the empty lobby for a moment, the heavy glass doors swinging shut as he let out a quiet breath, an amused smile spreading over his face at the sound of your adorable accent that still lingered inside his head.
—
With the release of a new comeback, over the next few weeks, Stray Kids operated in a clocked schedule of photo shoots, dance practices, and clothing fittings. But even through the hectic pace that took over the days ahead, he could always find you on the sidelines, working hard but lingering your eyes a bit too long on him before another staff called you out.
Whenever the last member wrapped up the day or the staff organized the few remaining equipment, you’d be there, untangling wardrobe racks or waiting on late-night shipments, and Minho would still be waiting for you under the fluorescent lights every night.
He didn't really like doing small talk, but he couldn’t deny how much he felt delighted by your cute reactions towards his presence, when he'd just walk up, tap something with his foot or finger, and wait for your response.
“목걸이 (Necklace),” he said one night, flicking the silver chain dangling from his neck.
“Moggeoli,” you tried a bit hesitant, your tongue tripping over the double consonant.
For a moment Minho stared at the shape of your mouth, licking his own lips to the thought of it against his. “목. 걸. 이. Again.”
“Mok... geol... i?”
“그치 (That’s it),” he would mutter as his eyes crinkled at the corners with a proud smile.
When your korean hit a wall, you'd shove your translator app in his face and Minho would read the overly formal text, make a disgusted face, then say some short english words and explain to you how people actually talked in Korea. He could be a bit blunt, not care much about grammar rules, but he never ran out of patience with you.
By the end of the month, the entire JYP building felt like a rush to finish up the last adjustments for the showcase that was less than twenty four hours away. It was past midnight again when you dropped onto a metal bench in the hallway, completely spent after packing away dozens of heavy boot boxes. Your brain felt completely fried from a solid twelve hours of trying to decode so many korean styling directions and tasks.
“Ah!” You flinched as a freezing water bottle pressed against your cheek.
Minho was standing over you, swallowed up by a black hoodie a few sizes bigger than him, his hair still slightly damp from the last practice. He looked completely wired, his eyes bright with that restless energy as he slid onto the bench next to you, keeping a bit of space between you, but close enough that you could feel his intoxicating scent wrapping around you.
“Today... very hard work,” Minho said with his voice a bit husky from fatigue, tilting his head toward you. “괜찮아 (All right)?”
“괜찮아요 (All right),” you sighed, letting your shoulders drop as you offered a tired smile. “Just... my brain is…” you mimicked a small explosion with your hands.
Minho let out a breathless laugh. “Me too. Choreo today... crazy.” He leaned his head back against the concrete wall, staring blankly at the hallway ceiling. Neither of you spoke for a few minutes, the silence didn't feel awkward anymore, it was just the quiet of two people who had survived the same long day.
When his stomach suddenly let out a loud growl, getting you to turn and look at him with a worried expression. But Minho didn't even look embarrassed, he just tilted his head with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Ah, I’m so hungry,” he muttered, shifting his weight and turning his body fully toward you and resting his elbow on the back of the bench. “You free tonight?” He spoke slowly, using his hand to emphasize the words. “Members at home, so…” He pointed a finger at you, then at himself. “Me. You. Ramyeon.”
You blinked. “Are you asking me out for dinner?”
“Yes. Dinner.” He nodded firmly, sensing the language barrier might need a bridge, he pulled his phone out, thumbs typing quickly across the screen before turning it toward you where the translator read: I know a really good place near here where the staff won't bother us. I can teach you the food vocabulary.
Your heart gave a sudden and unexpected flutter when you looked up from the screen, his usual playful smirk was gone, replaced by a surprisingly soft and genuine expression.
—
The restaurant was mostly empty, tucked away on a dark corner where you didn't have to worry about anyone recognizing him. Minho picked a table in the furthest booth, away from the small crowd near the counter. Over steaming bowls of ramyeon and a few drinks, the constant pull to check your phone translator faded, somehow with enough patience and fragmented phrases, the words just made sense.
Outside, the heavy and humid air from the past few days started to shift, low thunders rumbled across the sky and the imminence of a storm settled in Seoul. Rain started lashing against the restaurant’s glass windows, but inside, under the low yellow lights of the booth, the only thing keeping your attention was the relaxed smile on Minho’s face.
After each shared giggle, the heat of the burning soup and the kick of the alcohol began to catch up with you, loosening your tongue when his piercing eyes landed on you.
“You know… your voice is so cute in korean,” you smirked, twirling some noodles on your chopsticks. “It feels almost easy when you speak.”
“그래 (Really)?” Minho murmured, his voice dropped into a velvety, playful tone. He didn't reach for his phone this time, letting the foreign, melodic syllables just hang in the warm space between you.
“네 (Yes).” You bit your lower lip, trying to press down the growing smile curling on your mouth as your pulse started to hammer harder against your ribs.
“너 한국어 할 때 진짜 귀여워. 가끔 연습할 때 너 보느라 집중 안 돼 (You're also really cute when you speak korean. Sometimes when I'm practicing, I can't concentrate because I'm watching you).” He leaned closer, his dark eyes locking onto your lips before rising to meet your gaze. He reached across the small table, his long fingers gently playing with the sensitive skin just below your ear to tuck a strand of hair behind it.
“That’s not fair,” you blinked confused at the shift you couldn’t decode. “You're cheating. Translate it.”
Minho let out a low chuckle that vibrated deep in his chest. Instead of reaching for his phone, he slid along the booth, closing the distance between you until his lips slightly brushed the shell of your ear. His hot breath sent a dizzy spike of heat straight down your spine.
“우리 집으로 가자. 내가 너한테 뭘 하고 싶은지 직접 보여줄게 (Let's go to my place. I'll show you exactly what I want to do to you).”
He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes burning with a possessive heat that left absolutely no doubt about his intentions, even without the translation.
“What did you say?” Your voice came out in a quiet, uneven breath. “Translate. Now.”
Minho’s boyish, teasing smirk returned, he leaned in and pressed a faint kiss right to the corner of your mouth.
“I said,” Minho murmured in english, his voice returning to that polite cadence, though the fire in his eyes didn't waver for a second, “that the weather is weird and we should go to my house.”
—
The front door had barely clicked shut behind you before the skies were torn open outside, the sound of torrential rain hammering the windows in Minho’s apartment. You were both utterly drenched, water dripping from your hair and pooling around your sneakers. Without a word, he disappeared for a second, returning to drape a plush towel over your head and pointing down the short hallway.
“Bathroom. Warm shower. Go.”
He left a neat pile of clothes on the counter for you. When you finally stepped out of the fogged bathroom, his already oversized black t-shirt draped all the way down to your thighs, while the sweatpants hung far too low onto your hips, the drawstring pulled as tight as it could go.
The living room was quiet, save for the low murmur of the TV broadcasting a weather warning about the storm. You sat on the floor, waiting for your damp hair to dry, awkwardly feeling the heavy buzz of the alcohol wash away as you drank a large glass of water, that left you intensely aware of the kiss at the restaurant and the fact you were currently wearing his clothes in his apartment.
The soft padding of bare feet broke the quiet. Minho walked into the room, his own hair damp and messy, and slid down onto the floor beside you, resting his back against the base of the couch.
You stared down at your fingers, suddenly unsure of what to say. “Thanks,” you mumbled under your breath, keeping your eyes on your lap. “For the clothes... and the dinner... and everything you did for me.”
Minho offered a quick glance, sitting with his legs slightly spread, one knee pulled up closer to his chest, the other leg extended as his thigh almost brushed against yours. Scratching the back of his neck, a rare, genuinely shy smile touched his mouth.
“It's okay,” he said softly.
Silence stretched through the apartment, making the space feel entirely isolated from the storm outside, he shifted again and his body heat pressed closer as he leaned closer to you.
“I can... teach other things too,” he murmured, voice dropping an octave, “나 지금 너 진짜 필요해 (I really need you right now).” His warm breath fanned directly over the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a sharp shiver down your spine. “Try it.”
You swallowed hard, your heart instantly pounding against your ribs even faster than before. “What does it mean, Minho?”
“Say it,” he countered, his dark eyes locking onto yours with unblinking focus. “And I will tell.”
“Na jigeum neo jinjja… pilyohae,” you repeated. The syllables felt stiff on your tongue, completely unattached to any meaning in your brain, but you forced them out anyway.
“It means,” Minho’s large hand reached up, his fingers cradling the back of your head and tilting it slightly to the side. “I really need you right now.”
Before the translation could fully register, he leaned across the small gap between you. His lips planted a soft, lingering kiss just under your ear, tracing a slow line down your jawline until he reached your parted lips. The kiss started slow and hesitant, almost as if he were trying to find a way to translate how good it felt to touch you without using words at all.
But the hesitation didn't last, it deepened rapidly, turning into a breathless rhythm as your tongues tangled in a wet embrace of pure need. Your hands went up to his broad shoulders, fingers gripping the fabric of his hoodie as you pulled him closer, sinking entirely into him. At that moment, you didn't want to pull apart and risk hearing any more of the foreign language that had isolated you for the past year, not when it finally made perfect sense.
Minho was the one to break the kiss, his chest heaving as he pulled back just an inch. He was panting, lips already twitching to press back against yours, but he stopped himself, holding your face firmly between his palms.
“계속 키스해줘 (Keep kissing me),” he breathed out raggedly against your swollen lips, his thumb wiping away a trace of moist from your chin. “Say it.”
“Gyesog kiseuhaejwo,” you whispered instantly.
“Keep kissing me.”
His palms slid to the sides of your face, angling your head as he bruised your lips again. The pace was urgent, sucking and biting at your lower lip, drawing a needy moan from the back of your throat. He pulled back again just far enough to look down at you, his pupils completely dilated and dark with heat.
“Want more?”
“Uhm,” you breathed, unable to form any coherent word or thought.
“Say 더 해줘 (Do more).”
“Deo haejwo,” you promptly repeated, your hands tugging him back down to you.
Minho let out a rough chuckle, hands sliding down to your waist as he pulled you directly onto his lap. The hard line of his growing manhood pressed firmly against you through the soft fabric of his sweatpants as he dragged his lips across your flushed cheek, his voice a soft murmur against your skin.
“더 해줄까 (Should I do more)?” He chuckled.
You didn't understand a single syllable, but the friction felt so good you didn't even care. You just leaned into his touch, your mouth seeking his as he captured your lips in another bruising kiss.
“느낌 너무 좋아 (This feels too good),” he muttered against your mouth. The casual and cute tone he used with the other staff members was entirely gone, replaced by a low rumble that vibrated deep in his chest and sent a wave of shivers down your spine as he ground his hips up against yours.
With a swift movement, his large hands wrapped under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly into his arms before laying your back down onto the soft cushions of the sofa. He let out a ragged exhale, his gaze completely focused on you as he gave a light tap to the inside of your bent knees.
“다리 벌려봐. 힘 빼고 (Spread your legs. Relax).”
You instinctively followed his order, spreading your legs open for him. A satisfied smile touched his lips, his fingers hooked into the waistband of the oversized sweatpants, slowly pulling them down over your hips along with your underwear, leaving you exposed to the cool air of the room. With a gentle but unyielding tug, he slid the hem of the shirt up your torso, exposing your perked up nipples underneath the fabric.
A sudden wave of shyness hit you and you started to close your legs again, Minho paused, a single eyebrow arching as he looked down at you. He brushed the tip of his finger against your jaw, silently commanding you to look into his eyes, before trailing that single finger down the center of your breasts, past your stomach, and directly over your damp core.
“잘하네, 착하지 (You’re doing well, good girl),” he mumbled against your skin, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth.
You could see the heavy distortion of his bulge in his gray sweatpants, but he took his time, sliding his fingers over your slick skin before easily pushing two digits deep inside you. A few pumps later and a breathy moan escaped your throat, your hips instinctively arching into his touch.
But Minho pulled his hand back, the sudden loss of friction making you whimper wanting more. He reached up, pulling his own hoodie over his head in one fluid motion to reveal the toned lines of his chest and shoulders. With an impatient push, he stripped out of his pants, finally freeing his hard length that now hung stiffly in front of him. Completely uncovered, he loomed over you, his member giving a slight throb as his eyes tracked the way your thighs clutched at the air.
He reached into the pocket of his jacket, which lay discarded on the floor beside the couch, and tore open a condom wrapper, rolling it on quickly over his veiny shaft. Leaning back over your chest, he settled his weight between your thighs, aligning his round tip right at your entrance.
A small, anxious whimper left your lips, desperate to feel him inside you as he dragged his length with a stretch through your folds, your brain scrambled through the few korean phrases you actually knew, trying to patch together something from your previous lessons.
“Ah... 느낌 좋아요 (it feels good),” you whispered, voice trembling at the overwhelming sensations under your skin.
He let out a soft chuckle, the heavy tension in his shoulders melting as he pulled you flush against his bare chest, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck, slowly sinking all the way inside you.
“Why so polite?” he murmured, his breath hot against your collarbone as your warm, gummy walls opened to accommodate him. “Just say 좋아 (It's good).”
“좋아,” you gasped out, a breathless moan tearing from your throat as he began to move, his full girth making you fully aware of just how strong and manly he actually was beneath his usual baggy clothes. “더 해줘 (Do it more).”
“귀엽다 (so cute)... you learn so fast,” he murmured against your skin, a praise that felt like a caress, before blocking out the rest of the world by pressing another wet kiss over your parted lips.
“너 정말 꽉 조이네 (You’re so tight),” Minho groaned, his voice dropping into a ragged, low groan.
You had absolutely no idea what he’d been mumbling for the past few minutes, but the way his hips stuttered told you everything you needed to know. Your walls were clamping down impossibly tight around his length, catching every heavy friction of his thrusts.
“정말 미치게 하네 (You’re seriously driving me crazy).”
Another helpless moan broke from your lips when he suddenly lifted his torso, his large hands anchoring firmly onto your hips to angle himself deeper. He bit his lower lip hard, his eyelids fluttering shut as a violent shudder rolled through his entire body, sending the heat straight into yours.
“나 더는 못 참겠어. 너 진짜... 너무 좋아. (I can't take it anymore. You really... so good).”
With a dominant grip on your waist, he delivered a few more perfectly angled thrusts, his length throbbing maddeningly against your most sensitive spots until a sudden, burning tension struck both of your bodies at once. You cried out, a high-pitched yelp escaping your throat as your core tightly convulsed around him.
With one final, deep thrust, Minho buried his face into the crook of your neck. His breath was burning against your skin, panting more unintelligible groans until his entire body went rigid, a wave of intense pleasure taking over as he shot all of his warm load inside the latex.
The frantic pace slowly ground to a halt, leaving only the sound of your uneven breathing as Minho wrapped his arms around your waist and shifted his weight, pulling you along with him as he rolled onto his back on the couch. You collapsed directly onto his chest, your skin slick with a thin coat of shared sweat, his heartbeat was a wild, erratic thumping against your cheek.
Slowly, his fingers began to thread through your damp hair, the gentle, constant motion letting you drift toward a heavy slumber after such an exhausting day. But just as your eyes started to flutter shut, he hooked two fingers under your chin and tilted your face up to force you to look at him again.
A wide and teasing smirk spread across his face, his eyes crinkling with that familiar, playful malice. Before you could even blink, he reached down and gave your bare ass a light pinch on the soft flesh.
“Ah!” You flinched, instantly awake.
“아직 안 끝났어, 바보야 (It's not over yet, dummy),” Minho chuckled, his voice still husky but dripping with mischief. He tapped your chin playfully, switching back to his accented english. “Tutoring only finishes when the teacher says finish.”
you meet by chance at a baseball game, so he asks you to be his plus one for a wedding. the catch? pretending to be his girlfriend for a whole weekend. what happens when you actually start to like him?
pairing: seungmin x fem!reader
genre: fluff, smut
content: ft. mina and sana from twice, fake dating, one bed, kissing after a couple drinks, drama! but not that much, explicit smut, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex (p in v), creampie, happy ending
word count: 5.2k
a/n: this is my last fic for the event and i’m kinda sad it’s almost over!! thank you for all the love and support from the past month, we’ve really appreciated it! absolutely not proofread <3
♡ m.list
a wet hot skz summer event masterlist ☼ schedule
The stadium is sweltering hot, the crowd is screeching between innings, and if one more guy spills beer on you, you might actually lose it. You usually love baseball games, and have so much fun shouting for your favorite team and eyeballing the hot players in their tight pants. Usually.
Maybe you just haven’t had enough to drink. There’s no reason you shouldn’t be having fun with your friends, leaning into them and whispering about the game, or more commonly, the players you have a massive crush on.
Or maybe you’re sitting there thinking about your date from last night, the guy who talked way too much and didn’t ask a single question about you. You didn’t even want to go, he was a friend of a friend, and you owed her a favor, and he was kind of cute, so you figured, why not? Big mistake.
You haven’t sworn off dating, but your recent string of bad dates has become particularly exhausting. You love your friends, but there’s a part of you that wants to go to these games with somebody else. A partner. Preferably in a romantic capacity.
There’s a group of guys on the right of you, and Mina keeps leaning forward, trying to make jokes with them. They laugh and joke back, and you try your best to laugh and play along. You catch a few of their faces when you glance over, and Jesus fuck, they’re all good-looking.
Your friends are on the other side of you, definitely drunk, and having the time of their lives. You resort to actually watching the game, trying to focus on something to drown out the chaos around you. A batter on the other team strikes out, so terribly that you almost feel bad for them.
“Ouch…that’s embarrassing," you mutter under your breath.
“It’s one strikeout,” a voice from next to you says, almost annoyed. “There’s plenty of game left to play.”
You whip your head to see the man sitting next to you, smirking as he sips his beer. There’s a Giants hat on his head, which makes you laugh. They’re losing pretty badly right now.
“Giants fan?” you ask, as if it isn’t obvious.
“I take it you’re not,” he observes.
“I don’t really have a favorite,” you say honestly. “But there’s at least 5 more teams I’d pick before the Giants.”
He scoffs at that, but you catch a faint hint of a smile as he turns back to watch the game. He’s really, really handsome. You turn to your friends to hide your smile as you sip your drink.
You make snide comments as the game goes on, and he dishes them right back at you. One of the players on your team drops a ball, and you let out a groan.
“That’s your guy?” the man whispers next to you.
“Hush,” you say back, because it’s the only thing you can think of without making prolonged eye contact and stuttering over your words. You try to hide your smirk but can’t deny the flirty edge that the conversation has.
You’re only half listening to Sana drone on about how she hates her new boss when the giant screen above you flashes pink. Bold words appear on screen.
KISS CAM.
The camera bounces around from couple to couple, a series of cheers echoing throughout the crowd. Sometimes it’s cute, like when the people on screen are obviously dating, but half the time it looks so awkward when random strangers pucker up just because of a little attention from the camera.
It takes a second to register when your face pops up on the screen.
Your face. And the man next to you. The man you met today, the man whose name you don’t even know.
“Do it!” you hear your friends laughing beside you, egging you on.
You turn and see his friends doing the same, patting him on the back and hollering at him. You make eye contact with him and can’t help but laugh.
You give him a shrug. “Why not?” you say. It’s harmless. Plus, he’s stupid hot, and you’d be dumb to turn down a kiss from a hot stranger, even if it is in front of thousands of people.
“Ah, what the hell.” He sighs, smiling, and leans forward.
Your lips connect, and you hear the crowd erupt around you. You feel the sound vibrate through your seat more than you can hear it. His lips are so warm and soft, and everything fades away for a moment. It’s tender, surprisingly so.
You break the kiss first after a few seconds. Four seconds? Or ten? You lost count, honestly. You pull back in time to see his eyes flutter open. He smiles at you, warm and genuine. God, he is really handsome.
The crackle of the announcer over the loudspeakers catches your attention, and you remember where you are all at once. You feel your chest tighten, suddenly very aware of what had just transpired.
“I’m Seungmin,” he says, and you snap out of the panic you were about to enter.
You introduce yourself. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“That’s one hell of an icebreaker,” he jokes. You both laugh, turning your eyes towards the field before the embarrassment sets in again.
You find it increasingly hard to keep your eyes off Seungmin as the game continues. He bumps your elbow every time he leaps out of his seat to cheer on his team, and you have to pretend you don’t notice. You smell his cologne when he leans in too close to make a snide comment, and you have to roll your eyes to avoid making eye contact with him. Trying to act cool, like he doesn’t do anything to you, is pure torture.
The game ends 6-5. You didn’t pay too much attention to the score, just enough to tease Seungmin when the Giants slipped behind. It didn’t matter though, they ended up pulling through and winning tonight.
“I never doubted them for a second,” he says smugly.
“You probably should have,” you say back, laughing.
Your friends get up to leave, and you turn to follow them, collecting your empty drink cup as you walk out. Just then, you feel a tug on your wrist.
“Wait! Uh…can I get your number?” Seungmin asks, rubbing the back of his neck.
Your eyes light up as you look back at him and nod. The two of you exchange numbers, ignoring the way both of your friend groups snicker and tease behind you, before going your separate ways.
The whole walk back to the train, your friends talk about the day, their plans, and their lives, but you’re not really listening. It’s hard to when your mind is full of the handsome stranger you’d just met minutes ago. And you especially can’t stop thinking about the kiss.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Mina says, nudging your shoulder.
You shrug your shoulders and turn to stare out the window. “Just tired. We had a long day.”
She doesn’t buy it, leaning closer into your space to get a better look at your face.
“Are you thinking about the Giants guy?” she says, definitely teasing you. You shoot her a glare and roll your eyes, but you feel your face grow warm and hope it doesn’t show.
You get home, you shower, eat some leftover pasta that’s been marinating in your fridge, and collapse into bed. By this point, you’ve mostly convinced yourself that today was a one-off. A funny story to bring up at dinner. “Remember that one time…” your friends will say. That’s just what happens. You meet someone fun at an event, and then life takes over.
But as soon as your head hits the pillow, your phone buzzes on the nightstand.
Unknown: giants won btw. in case you needed a reminder.
You roll your eyes before saving the contact and typing a reply, smiling to yourself like an idiot.
You: a whole text JUST to brag?
Seungmin: just making sure you knew
Y: I was THERE
S: yeah but did you watch or were you distracted
Y: no idea what you’re talking about
S: mhm…
Y: congrats on the win, don’t let it get to your head!
You find yourself checking your phone more than you’d like to admit over the next few days. Your heart skips a beat every time you get a notification on your phone. Sometimes, he says good morning and asks about your day. Sometimes he just sends a dumb meme with absolutely no context. Or provides commentary for whatever game is on that night.
Today’s message from him starts differently than usual.
Seungmin: hypothetically
You: hypothetically…
S: if I needed a date for a wedding
Y: okay…
S: would you go with me?
Y: what’s in it for me?
S: you get to feel REALLY GOOD about yourself for doing a favor for little old me
S: and a free trip to Jeju…
Your eyes go wide at that.
Y: it’s in JEJU!?
S: yeah my cousin’s loaded or something
Y: hypothetically it would be a yes
S: okay great!
S: another hypothetical…
Y: mhm
S: ….i told my mom i was bringing my girlfriend?
Y: you have a girlfriend?
S: NO no no i don’t have a girlfriend, that’s the problem
Y: i see…
S: so uh would you also hypothetically pretend to be my girlfriend?
Y: you can’t tell your mom you were lying?
S: it’s…complicated. i’d rather not be lectured or have her try and set me up with all of the bridesmaids
You’d also prefer that, but you don’t mention it.
Y: hmm…hypothetically one weekend wouldn’t kill me
S: oh my god you’re a lifesaver
Y: hypothetically?
S: super not hypothetically. very realistically actually
Y: okay fine. when is it?
S: next weekend
Y: you’re good at planning things
S: please?
Y: if i say yes too fast does it make me look like a loser for not having any plans already
S: if you say yes too fast it makes you look like an absolute saint for saving my ass
Y: would you look at that! i’m free
You close your eyes, excited for the upcoming weekend. But not too excited. That would be too obvious.
The airport is crowded and much too noisy for this early in the morning. Seungmin finds you easily, waving you down by the check-in counters. He’s taller than you remembered, cleaned up nicely, but definitely sleepy.
“Hi, stranger,” you say as you walk up to him. He greets you with a sleepy smile, and you notice how cute he looks bundled up in a hoodie and his tousled hair.
“Ready to lie to my whole family?” he says, laughing, like he can’t believe he’s about to do exactly that.
To be honest, you’re not sure. You hardly know this man, but if there’s a chance you continue seeing him, the last thing you want to do is put on a false persona or lie about your guys’ history.
By the time you settled into your seats, Seungmin insisted on getting the window seat, and you had a couple of hours to get your story straight.
“How long have we been dating?” you ask as the plane steadies after takeoff.
“Sorry?”
“In your hypothetical world that you told your family about. How long have we been together? Where did we meet? We need to get our story straight!”
“Ahh okay. So, we’ve been together four months.”
“Specific, believable, I like it. How did we meet?”
“The truth. Baseball game kiss cam. I literally couldn’t make it up if I tried,” he laughs.
“Okay, fair.”
You talk about his family and what to expect for the rest of the flight. Every family has its drama, quirky relatives, and secrets. The flight wasn’t long enough to cover everything, but you feel confident you know who to avoid and who’s safe to talk to.
The plane lands, and you find yourself hoping they like you. Hoping that after all this, Seungmin still likes you too.
The hotel is massive, spewing bright neutral colors and modern accents. You’re still marveling at the lobby, looking at the ginormous chandelier above you, when Seungmin waves a keycard in front of your face.
“C’mon, I want to shower before dinner.”
And the room is just as nice as the lobby. It’s large, with a balcony facing the ocean attached. You’re high up enough where the noise from the street won’t bother you when you try to sleep, which you’re grateful for. The giant king bed sits in the center, surrounded by beautiful artwork.
Giant king bed.
One bed. Singular.
You set your stuff down, frowning at the arrangement. “It’s a little soon to share a bed, don’t you think?” You try to come off as playful, but your heart is beating faster at the thought of sleeping next to a man you hardly know.
“I know, I’m sorry. I should’ve mentioned that.” His apology is sincere, and you can tell this weekend is already stressing him out.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay, I’m just joking. I guess they wouldn’t really have believed us if you asked for separate rooms anyway, right?”
He relaxes his shoulders at your comment, nodding in agreement and putting down his stuff. He disappears into the bathroom, and you take the time to flop down onto the bed.
Everything’s going to be fine. People share beds all the time. Sana has slept in your bed more times than you can count after a night out, and you’re perfectly fine with her crowding your space or snoring in your ear.
You’re still thinking about a thousand different ways this weekend could go wrong when Seungmin comes out of the bathroom, showered and dressed.
“We have a couple of hours to kill. Wanna go for a walk?”
And so you slip your shoes back on and head back down to the lobby.
The fresh air feels nice and warm with a hint of sea salt. The two of you make your way down to the beach and start to walk along the shoreline. Seungmin kicks off his shoes and rolls up his pantlegs before heading closer to the water.
You follow suit, slipping off your sandals and skipping towards the water. You flick a bit of water up with your toes, and it lands on him.
“Hey!” he shouts, laughing, flicking it back at you. You squeal and run, holding your pants up to keep from dragging them through the water.
The wet sand sticks to your feet as you pretend to run, only getting a couple of yards away before two arms wrap around you to stop you in your tracks. Your shrieks turn into laughter as you twist in his grip, trying to get away. Your feet kick in the air as he lifts you a couple of inches off the ground.
“Put me down!” you cry out. He carries you a couple of steps before putting you down. You playfully push him, both of you still laughing. You notice the wrinkles around his eyes as he smiles, and your heart swells with joy. Just joking around like this just feels so comfortable with him.
The two of you keep walking down the beach, commenting on the beautiful view or the temperature of the water.
“Thank you for coming,” he says after a while. “I know it’s weird and we barely know each other and—”
“Seungmin.”
“Uh…yeah?”
“Hush. I’m having fun.”
He nods, shoving his hands in his pockets and keeps walking, and you watch his worried face disappear into a smile.
The sun starts to set before he suggests you head back to change into clothes for dinner. You agree, and he loosely wraps his arm around you as you walk back to the hotel.
The rehearsal dinner is held in a banquet room just off the hotel’s main lobby. The room is draped in white fabric and well lit, the kind of setup that would cost at least three or four times your rent. You hardly have any time to admire it before you’re shuffled through conversations, meeting Seungmin’s relatives.
“This is my girlfriend,” he says about a dozen times before you have to remind yourself that that’s not actually true. You feel your heart flutter every time a relative comments on how cute the two of you are, though.
His aunt whispers something in his ear that makes his ears go red. His uncle tries to get the two of you to take shots with him before Seungmin eventually whisks you away from the conversation.
There are a few toasts, most of which drone on forever, with Seungmin fidgeting in his seat. You want to ask if he’s okay, but you have a feeling that he isn’t up to talking about whatever family-related issues are causing his stress.
“Almost done, I promise,” he says low in your ear as he guides you to what you’re hoping is the last group of people.
There’s a woman in a long white dress, not quite a wedding dress, standing at the front of the room towards the podium, accompanied by a tall man in a suit. You’re guessing the bride and groom.
“Seungmin!” The bride says warmly. “I’m so glad you came!”
“Hi, Yuri. Congratulations.” His voice is flatter than you’ve ever heard it before.
“Cousin!” his cousin exclaims as he pats him on the back. Seungmin introduces him as Jiho, his mother’s sister’s son.
“You must be the girlfriend! I’ve heard about you,” Yuri says. She flicks her eyes up and down, as if she’s assessing you. You’ve gotten it from most of his family members, but she’s been the most obvious one to do it tonight. Probably bride confidence, or one too many glasses of champagne.
“All good things, I hope,” you say, sipping on your glass of wine.
“We’ll let you get back to it,” Seungmin says quickly, leaving you almost no time to wish them a good evening before he guides you out of the room and to the elevators.
“Are you okay?” you ask. He’s noticeably stiffer, adjusting his clothes like they’re too uncomfortable now.
He makes eye contact with you and seems to realize that he’s sending a million different distress signals. “I’m fine, sorry. It’s just family stuff.”
You nod your head in understanding, not wanting to push it further. The elevator dings and you step into it, feeling the warmth of his hand on the small of your back.
“Do you think they suspected anything?” you ask as he unlocks the door to your room, trying to be lighthearted.
“Never, you did perfect,” he says, with a genuine smile you haven’t seen since earlier on the beach.
You sit on the bed, letting Seungmin use the bathroom to shower and change into pajamas first. This is possibly the strangest first date you’ve ever been on, if you can even call it that. You text your friends back, updating them on the day, and lock your phone before they can barrage you with questions you don’t feel like answering.
“All yours,” he says, stepping out of the steamy bathroom. He’s drying his damp hair with a towel, fully in his pjs, but he looks so handsome like this. You stop yourself from staring too hard before you take your turn getting unready from the day.
By the time you come out of the bathroom, Seungmin’s not in the room. You notice the balcony door is slightly open and see a figure standing outside, leaning against the rail. You slide the glass door open and join him outside.
“All good out here?” you ask.
“Yeah, just…thinking.”
“About?”
“I’m really glad you came with me.” He turns to look at you, sincerity written all over his face. He gently grabs your arm and pulls you in for a hug.
He smells so nice. You get a whiff of his shampoo mixed with his laundry detergent, but then catch something else underneath it all. It’s just Seungmin. A man you hardly know who has managed to weave his way through your every thought in just a few weeks.
You pull back a moment, offering a smile, and he tucks a damp strand of hair behind your ear. Your pulse quickens, the way it always does when he looks at you like that.
“Can I…?” he starts, tipping his head down slightly, and you know what he’s asking.
You answer by closing the gap yourself.
It’s soft, much softer than the first. There’s no crowd counting down, no friends drunkenly cheering you on–just you and Seungmin, under the moonlight in a quiet moment. He wraps one arm around you to pull you tight against him, and you snake your hands around his neck to ground yourself. The ocean’s waves crash in the background faintly, and you feel the nerves from before fall away. It’s more comfortable than you were expecting, not that you were expecting anything.
When he finally pulls back, he keeps his forehead against yours. If he loosens his grip on you, you might fall over. You hope he doesn’t.
“Ready to lie to more people tomorrow?” he laughs sheepishly.
You laugh, kissing him again in response. If there’s something still unsaid between you, it can wait until tomorrow.
The morning is a bit of a blur. You get dressed and make your way over to the venue, a beautiful building that seems like it was made just for weddings. Seungmin is antsy the whole time, holding your hand through it all like letting go would mean certain death. The ceremony is beautiful, and you sit right beside him through it all. It’s been a lovely weekend being a plus one at a wedding for people you just met yesterday.
At the reception, you’re standing near the edge of the dance floor waiting for Seungmin to come back from the bar when Yuri comes over to you.
“Hi!” she says brightly.
“Congratulations again,” you say. “The ceremony was beautiful.”
“Thank you so much.” She glances around, maybe looking for someone. “It must be so weird for you to be here.”
“Yeah, maybe a little,” you shrug. “I don’t know many people, but Seungmin’s been the best at introducing me to everyone.”
She takes a sip of her champagne. “You’re brave for showing up to your boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend’s wedding. I don’t know if I’d be able to handle it.”
Her voice replays in your head. Your boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend's wedding.
Your head tilts sideways, and your heart sinks to the floor. Maybe you misunderstood her. “Sorry, what?”
Yuri’s face flickers with surprise. “Oh, I’m sorry. He must not have told you…”
Your heart feels like it’s going to fall out of your ass. You excuse yourself, setting your glass on the nearest surface and high-tailing it out of there. You pass the bar on the way and catch Seungmin’s surprised face when you don’t stop.
The elevator doors close, and you realize how fast your heart is beating. Who cares if the bride is his ex-girlfriend? You certainly don’t have room to be jealous, he isn’t actually yours to be jealous over. Still, it would have been nice to get a heads-up.
You throw your shoes off when you get into the room and head straight for the balcony. Your stomach starts brewing something nasty, and you feel like you might throw up if you don’t get your breathing under control soon. The breeze feels nice against your face, and the ocean serves as calming white noise as you take deep breaths.
The balcony door opens behind you, and you hear slow footsteps behind you. You don’t turn around.
“You could have told me,” you say, trying not to cry.
“I know,” Seungmin says as he approaches the railing next to you. “I’m sorry.”
“Why? Why are you even here?”
“I’m here for my cousin, and my mother would have thrown a fit if I didn’t come.” You scoff. “But still, I should have told you. I just didn’t know how.”
You stay silent for a moment. “I get why you didn’t.” The words surprise you as they come out of your mouth. But it’s the truth. You do get it. “It still would’ve been nice to know.”
“That’s fair. I really am sorry.”
You both fall quiet for a moment before you break the silence again. “She’s marrying your cousin?”
He laughs for a moment and nods his head. “Yeah. Like I said, family drama.”
“I’m really sorry, that’s a lot to handle.”
“It’s fine. It was years ago. We dated in college, they got together after we broke up. I’m pretty sure there was some overlap, but it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Do you…,” you start to ask a question, but hesitate. You’re not afraid of the answer, per se. You’re afraid of the insecure girl bottled up deep inside, afraid that revealing her means showing your true feelings. Leaving everything out in the open, vulnerable.
“Do you still love her?”
“No.” He answers quickly and without hesitation. It eases the butterflies in your stomach, but now he knows. He knows that you’d been thinking about it, that you care.
You nod slowly, accepting his answer. He takes a step closer, grabbing a hold of your hand as it dangles by your side. The air on the balcony shifts as he takes a step closer, dragging his hand up your arm before resting it on your cheek.
“Let me show you.” It’s a request that you gladly accept with a nod as he leans in to kiss you. It’s gentle yet passionate, showing you he means what he says.
He walks you backwards back into the hotel room, sliding the glass door behind you as he guides you back into the room. The lamp lights are on, and your shawl and heels are kicked to the corner as you try not to trip on them. The fan humming does little to mask the noise of your heavy breathing between kisses.
Seungmin’s hands are everywhere. Cupping your face, sliding down your neck, gripping your waist, making good on his word. He kisses you deeper, tongue sliding against yours as he backs you further into the room.
He guides you down gently on the bed, and you can feel how hard he is through his dress pants. It makes the heat between your thighs grow, your mind suddenly filled with nothing but want. He snakes a hand behind you to unzip your dress and pull it down.
“You look so beautiful tonight,” he says, kissing down your body. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it before. I’ve been thinking about this all day.”
You’re left in your lace bra and panties, and his mouth comes down hot against your body as he leaves open-mouthed kisses all the way down. His hands cup your breasts, and you let out a moan when his thumbs brush against your nipples.
“Seungmin, please,” you breathe out as you pull him closer.
He unhooks your bra and drops it to the floor. His mouth closes around your nipple, sucking and flicking his tongue around it. You tug at his hair in response, basking in the feeling.
Your hands fight with his shirt buttons as he crawls back up your body to kiss you again. He takes off his dress shirt and peels off his undershirt, exposing his lean torso. He looks so hot all disheveled like this.
You reach for his pants next. “Off,” you demand. He sheds the rest of his clothes quickly, cock springing free. It’s hard and bright red, already glistening at the tip. You reach down between you to give him a couple of strokes, and he lets out a deep moan at your touch.
He hooks his fingers into your panties and rips them off next, grabbing at your thighs to spread them wide. You’re soaked, you can feel it. He stares in awe.
“So fucking perfect,” he mutters before situating himself between your thighs.
He places a kiss on your inner thigh before dipping between your folds, licking at your entrance. He works his way around your sopping cunt, and you feel the heat in your belly grow.
“Fuck, that feels so good,” you moan as he moves to pay attention to your clit.
He hums against you in response, sending shockwaves through your whole body. He finds a rhythm that makes your head spin and your muscles tighten as you head barreling towards your peak.
“I’m gonna—fuck, Seungmin!” You cry out, hips bucking and shaking against him as you come in his mouth. Your body is trembling, and he slowly works you through your orgasm.
You pull him back up once your body stops shaking and taste yourself on his lips. You kiss him sloppily, not bothering to stop for a breath. “Need you, right now.”
He positions himself at your entrance, pausing for a breath. “Ready?” he asks. You nod, feeling like you’re going to explode if he waits another second.
He pushes in slowly, keeping eye contact with you the entire time. You feel the stretch inch by inch, feeling so perfectly full as he bottoms out. He drops his forehead against yours when he’s fully buried inside you.
“I could stay here all fucking night,” he moans. “You feel so fucking good already.”
“Seungmin, please move.”
He starts with slow, steady thrusts that quickly turn rough and passionate. The bed creaks below you in time with his movements. You wrap his legs around him, making him hit deep inside. You let your nails rake at his back, and he lets out a deep moan.
As soon as he angles his hips and hits the sensitive spot inside you, you’re seeing stars. His movements quicken, and the room is filled with the slapping of skin against skin. You feel the heat come back, about to bubble over once again.
One of his hands slips between you, thumb making circles around your clit in time with his thrusts. You feel your body squeeze around him, cunt pulsing, and your vision whites out.
“Holy shit, Seungmin!” you cry out his name over and over as he fucks you through another orgasm.
He follows moments later, the feeling of you clenching around his cock throwing him into his own orgasm. His hips stutter as he buries himself deep inside you, choking out your name as he comes. He collapses over you, and both of you try to catch your breath.
After a minute, he rolls over next to you and pulls you close, tracing circles on your back. Your skin is slick with sweat, and you feel sticky, but it all feels so right.
“Please stay,” he whispers against your hair. “After this weekend. I want to take you out. Properly.”
You nuzzle your face deeper into the crook of his neck. The balcony door is still cracked open, letting in a gentle breeze that cools your warm skin.
“I’d like that,” you say, looking up to give him a gentle kiss.
It may have been a weird weekend, but you have no regrets. Not when it brought you here, on an island in the middle of the ocean, in the arms of a ridiculously dorky, handsome man.
a/n: thank you all so much for your support! sorry again if this feels rushed, i had so much fun writing it i've just been SO busy!!
you didn’t remember ordering the last drink. one second you’d been laughing at something chan said, something stupid and very him, and the next the glass was empty in your hand and the warmth in your chest had spread too far, too fast.
“okay,” you said, squinting at him. “i think i’m officially past the fun drunk and entering the honest drunk.”
chan smiled, “yeah? that sounds dangerous.”
you bumped your shoulder into his. “you say that like you’re not always dangerous either.” he snorted. “i’m literally just a guy.”
“a very attractive guy,” you muttered. he froze for a second there. “what?” he asked lightly, like he hadn’t heard you. you turned your head, blinking at him. “what what?”
“you said something,” he replied, eyes searching your face. “repeat it.” you laughed, waving a hand. “no, i didn’t.”
“you did,” he said, gentle but firm. “hey. you okay?”
“i’m great,” you said. “i just–” you frowned, words slipping loose now that the door was open. “i just think it’s funny how you pretend you don’t know.”
“know what?”
how did you explain years of small moments in a sentence? how did you explain late-night talks and shared headphones and the way he always walked you home, no matter how tired he was?
you stepped closer to him, close enough that you could see the tiny crease between his brows. “that you’re… you. and that it affects people.”
his voice dropped. “you’re drunk.”
“yeah,” you said. “but not wrong.” his smile faded.
“let’s get you home,” he said.
“chan,” you said, tugging lightly at his sleeve. “don’t do that.”
“do what?"
“that thing where you decide for both of us.”
he exhaled through his nose, eyes flicking away. “i’m deciding for you. you’ve had too much to drink.”
“i know i have,” you said. “that’s why i’m saying this now, before i chicken out again.”
that made him look at you. “saying what?” he asked.
you swallowed. suddenly very aware of how close you were. of how his shirt smelled like laundry soap and him.
“that i’m attracted to you,” you said. the words tumbled out messy. “that i have been for a long time. and i tried not to be, because you’re my best friend and i didn’t want to ruin anything, but i think about you all the time and i notice things i shouldn’t notice and–"
“hey,” he said softly.
you laughed, a little hysterical. “see? this is why i shouldn’t drink.”
he reached out, hands warm on your arms, grounding you.. “how long?” he asked quietly.
you blinked. “what?”
“how long have you felt like this.”
you hesitated. “since before i let myself admit it.”
his jaw tightened. “that’s not fair,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.
“i know,” you said. “i’m sorry.”
“don’t apologise,” he said immediately. “you didn’t do anything wrong.”
you looked up at him. “then why do you look like that?"
he huffed a breath, shaking his head. “because i want to do something i shouldn’t.”
your heart skipped. “like what?"
he leaned in before he could stop himself. you felt the shift, the gravity of it. his forehead hovered inches from yours, his voice barely above a whisper.
“like kiss you,” he said.
your breath caught. “then why don’t you?" you whispered.
his eyes closed. just for a second. when they opened again, there was something raw in them. "because you’re drunk,” he said. “and i care about you too much to ever wonder if i took advantage of a moment.”
that hurt more than if he’d laughed it off. “so that’s it,” you said quietly. “you don’t feel anything.”
he pulled back just enough to look at you properly. “don’t say that.”
“then say something else.”
his hands slid down to your wrists, thumbs brushing over your pulse. you could feel how fast your heart was racing. you wondered if he could too.
“i’ve wanted you for a long time,” he admitted. “long enough that i learned how to lock it away. long enough that i convinced myself it was safer to stay quiet.”
your chest ached. “chan…”
“but i won’t cross this line tonight,” he continued. “no matter how much i want to. and believe me–" his voice wavered just a little. “i really want to.”
you nodded, suddenly emotional. “okay.”
“okay?” he asked, surprised.
“okay,” you repeated. “thank you. for being… you.”
he smiled sadly. “yeah. that’s the problem.”
chan walked you home, the silence was heavy with things unsaid. when you reached your door, he hesitated.
“text me when you wake up,” he said. “just… so i know you’re okay.”
you smiled at him. “worried about me?”
“always,” he said without thinking.
you went inside before you could say something stupid.
the next morning, your head hurt less than your heart. your mind replayed everything. every word. every look. the way he’d almost kissed you.
your phone buzzed.
chan.
« hey. you awake? »
« yeah. unfortunately very sober. »
there was a pause.
« do you remember last night? »
you stared at the screen.
« yeah. i do. »
another pause. longer this time.
« can i come over? »
your fingers trembled as you typed.
« yes. »
he showed up twenty minutes later with hot choclate in one hand and nerves written all over his face. he stood awkwardly in your doorway until you laughed and stepped aside.
“you don’t have to look like you’re about to be executed,” you said.
“i kind of do,” he replied. “this conversation feels important.”
you sat next to each other on the couch, knees almost touching.
“are you okay?” he asked. “really?" you nodded. “are you?” he smiled, relieved. “better now.”
you took a breath. “everything i said was true.”
he didn’t hesitate this time. he leaned forward, hands bracketing your face, eyes searching yours one last time.
you blamed the alcohol for the confidence. normally, you filtered yourself around minho. normally, you matched his energy. sarcasm for sarcasm, insults disguised as affection. but tonight the line between teasing and truth blurred until it didn’t exist at all.
“you’re walking funny,” he said, glancing at you as you stumbled slightly on the pavement.
“i’m walking honestly,” you replied. “big difference.”
“that’s not a thing.”
“it is when you’ve had three cocktails you didn’t pay for.”
he scoffed. “that explains why you’re acting like this.”
“like what?”
“like you’re about to confess to a crime.”
you stopped and turned to face him. “oh, i already did that once. remember when i said i didn’t eat the last dumpling?”
his eyes narrowed. “you did eat it.”
“see? honesty.”
he shook his head, lips twitching. “you’re unbearable.”
“you like that about me.”
he shot you a look. “don’t push it.”
you smiled at him, a little too soft for the joke. “but you do.”
there was a beat. just a fraction too long. “yeah,” he said dryly. “platonically. unfortunately.”
you laughed, but it came out quieter than you meant it to. “wow. devastating.”
“you’ll recover,” he replied. “you’re resilient. like a cockroach.”
“you think i’m resilient and disgusting?”
“i didn’t say disgusting.”
“you implied it.”
“you inferred it,” he corrected. “that’s on you.”
you walked a few steps, then glanced back at him. “do you ever get tired of pretending you don’t know things?”
he raised an eyebrow. “depends. what am i pretending not to know now?”
“that you’re hot.”
he barked out a laugh. “okay, you’re definitely drunk.”
“i’m serious.”
“you’re always serious when you’re wrong.”
“i’m not wrong,” you insisted. “you know you’re attractive. you just hide it behind sarcasm and looking annoyed all the time.”
“that’s just my face.”
“liar.”
he stopped walking. “are you flirting with me?" he asked, deadpan. “i might be,” you said. “is it working?”
“no.”
you crossed your arms. “wow. rude.”
“i’m just confused,” he said. “you don’t flirt. you insult me.”
“i can multitask.”
he stared at you, expression unreadable. “you’re drunk.”
“yes, congratulations. gold star.”
“you’re going to regret this.”
“i regret not saying it sooner.”
that got him. his mouth opened, then closed. “okay. say what?"
you stepped closer, invading his space on purpose this time. “i’m attracted to you.”
he laughed immediately. “no, you’re not.”
“wow,” you said. “did you just reject me before i finished?”
“i’m saving us both time.”
“i’m serious, minho.”
“yeah, and i’m the king of england.”
your heart started racing. “stop doing that.”
“doing what?"
“looking at me like that.”
“like what?"
“like you’re thinking.”
“i am thinking.”
“seems dangerous.”
he scoffed, but his eyes flicked down to your lips. just for a second. then he straightened. “you don’t mean this,” he said. “you’re drunk and sentimental.”
“i’m drunk,” you agreed. “but i’ve been attracted to you sober too.”
“since when?"
you shrugged. “since you started caring more than you pretended to.”
his jaw tightened. “that’s not an answer.”
“it is for you.”
he exhaled slowly. “you’re a menace.”
“you like that.”
“i really don’t.”
you reached out, fingers brushing his sleeve. for a moment, you thought he might kiss you. the air felt charged. his hand hovered near your waist, not touching.
then he pulled back. “you’re drunk,” he said flatly. “and i’m not dealing with this version of you.”
that stung. “ouch.”
“don’t look at me like that.”
“like what?"
“like i just kicked a puppy.”
“you kind of did.”
he rolled his eyes, but his voice softened. “let's get you home. sleep. we’ll pretend this didn’t happen.”
you swallowed. “and if i don’t want to pretend?"
“you will tomorrow,” he said. “trust me.”
you didn’t.
the next morning, your head was clearer and your phone was buzzing.
« you alive or should i start planning a funeral? »
you stared at the screen.
« alive. sober. unfortunately still remembering everything. »
three dots appeared. disappeared. reappeared.
« tragic »
« you’re not funny. »
« i’m hilarious. you’re just embarrassed »
« i’m not embarrassed. »
« then why are you avoiding the point? »
you sighed.
« everything i said was true. »
there was a long pause.
« …great. »
ten minutes later, there was a knock on your door. you opened it to find him leaning against the frame, arms crossed.
“you look too awake,” he said.
“you look too annoying,” you replied.
“good. balance restored.”
you stepped aside. “are you here to mock me or have an actual conversation?”
“both,” he said, walking in. “mostly the first.”
you faced him. “i meant it.”
“i know,” he said quietly. “that’s the problem.”
“why is that a problem?"
he stared at you for a long moment, then stepped forward abruptly and kissed you
you noticed it immediately, the shift. one moment changbin was laughing, cheeks flushed, leaning against the bar as he listened to you ramble about nothing. the next, you slurred his name just a little too softly, and everything about him changed.
“binnie,” you said, blinking slowly. “can i tell you something?” he straightened. completely. like a switch had flipped.
“hey,” he said gently. “yeah. what’s up?”
you smiled at him, warm and loose and unguarded. “you’re really handsome, you know that?”
his breath caught. you saw it. his smile faltered. “okay,” he said slowly. “you’re drunk.”
“i know,” you said. “that’s why i’m brave.”
he chuckled under his breath, but there was no humour in it. “that’s usually when you’re not brave.”
you stepped closer, swaying slightly. instinctively, his hands lifted, then stopped midair, hovering like he was afraid to touch you.
“hey,” he murmured. “careful.”
“see,” you said fondly. “this. this is what i mean.”
“mean what?"
“you’re always so kind,” you continued, words spilling now that they’d started. “and funny. and you listen. and you make everyone feel safe without even trying. and i hate that i noticed all that, because you’re my best friend and i shouldn’t be thinking–"
his jaw tightened. “thinking what?" he asked quietly.
you laughed, embarrassed but honest. “things. things i really shouldn’t think about you.”
that did it. whatever buzz he’d had left him completely. his eyes darkened, focus sharpening, like he’d sobered in a single breath.
“okay,” he said firmly. “we’re stopping right there.”
you frowned. “why?”
because if you say one more nice thing, i’m going to kiss you, he didn’t say.
instead, he stepped back. put space between you on purpose.
“because you don’t deserve this conversation like this,” he said. “you deserve to remember it. to choose it.”
you tilted your head. “i am choosing it.”
“no,” he said softly. “you’re choosing it drunk.”
you reached for him again, fingers brushing his wrist. he froze, eyes flicking down to where you touched him, then back up to your face.
“changbin,” you said, voice earnest. “you’re everything i ever wanted. ever dreamed of.”
his throat bobbed. his hands curled into fists at his sides. “don’t,” he whispered. “please don’t say things like that right now.”
“why not?"
“because i want you,” he admitted, voice low. “and i don’t ever want to wonder if you only said yes because you’d had too much to drink.”
you searched his face, suddenly emotional. “you’re such a good man.”
that almost broke him. he closed his eyes for a second, then opened them, steady again. “let me walk you home.”
the walk was quiet. every step felt like restraint. at your door, he hesitated, hands shoved deep into his pockets like that was the only way to keep them there.
“get some sleep,” he said. “drink water. text me when you wake up.”
you nodded. “will you still want to talk to me?"
he smiled sadly. “i don’t think i could stop myself.”
he left before you could say anything else.
he didn’t sleep. by noon the next day, he was standing outside your apartment with takeaway bags in both hands, heart pounding like he was about to step into something irreversible.
you opened the door, hair messy, face bare, eyes clear.“hey,” you said.
“hey,” he replied, suddenly nervous. “uh. i brought food.”
he held the bags up like proof of good intentions. you smiled. “you didn’t have to.”
“i wanted to,” he said. then, more carefully, “are you sober?”
you didn’t hesitate. “yes. and i meant every word, binnie.”
the way you said his name so softly undid him completely.
the bags slipped from his hands, hitting the floor with a dull thud, forgotten. he stepped forwards, hands cradling your face like it was instinct, like he’d been holding himself back for too long.
“good,” he breathed. then he kissed you. desperate and warm and full of everything he’d swallowed the night before.
you kissed him back just as fiercely, hands clutching his shirt like you were afraid he’d disappear.
he pulled back only enough to rest his forehead against yours, breath shaky. “i’ve liked you for ages,” he whispered. “i just didn’t think i was allowed to.”
you were already emotional before the words even left your mouth. maybe it was the music, which was too loud and echoing in your chest. maybe it was the way hyunjin was leaning close so you could hear each other, eyes bright, hair falling into his face like he didn’t even realise how unfair he looked.
“you’re staring,” he teased.
“i’m appreciating,” you corrected, swaying slightly. “it’s different.” he smiled, “you’ve had a lot to drink.”
“yeah, i think i’ve had enough,” you said. “enough to finally say it.”
that made him pause. “say what?"
you laughed, but it came out fragile. “that i think i’m in love with you.”
the world seemed to slow.
“you’re–" he stopped himself, then laughed quietly. “okay. wow. bold.”
you frowned. “don’t joke.”
he blinked. “i’m not. i just–" he searched your face, suddenly serious. “are you serious?"
you nodded. “i’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.”
his breath hitched. you watched his hand lift, fingers twitching like he wanted to touch you, then curl back into his sleeve instead.
“you’re drunk,” he said, almost mournfully.
“yes,” you agreed. “but i didn’t invent these feelings tonight.”
he stepped closer anyway, unable to help himself. his voice dropped, turning soft without trying. “do you have any idea,” he said, “how long i’ve imagined you saying something like that?"
your heart skipped. “then why do you look like you’re about to cry.”
“because this feels like a tragedy,” he replied. “perfect moment, wrong timing.”
you smiled. “you always talk like we’re in a movie.”
“because it feels like one,” he said. “and i don’t want to ruin the ending.”
you reached for him. he caught your wrists gently, holding them between you. “if i kiss you right now,” he whispered, “i’ll never forgive myself.”
“hyunjin…”
he leaned in anyway, forehead touching yours, breath warm. “i want you sober. i want you choosing me with clear eyes.”
then, with visible effort, he stepped back. “let me walk you home,” he said. “before i do something poetic and stupid.”
the next morning felt unreal. you remembered everything. painfully clearly.
your phone buzzed.
« did you sleep okay? »
« yeah. i hope you don't think i forgot anything i said last night. »
three dots appeared instantly.
« good. then i can be honest. »
a knock came at your door not ten minutes later.
when you opened it, he was standing there dressed simply, nerves obvious. in his hand was a singel flower. just one.
you blinked. “is that… for me?”
he nodded, suddenly shy. “i thought one felt more… intentional.”
your chest tightened. his eyes softened like he’d been waiting to exhale.
“let me say this properly,” he said. “i’ve loved you quietly for a long time. like a secret i didn’t think i was allowed to keep.”
you reached for him. this time, he didn’t stop you.
he kissed you slowly, reverently, like the moment deserved to be remembered forever. when he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.
“see,” he murmured. “much better scene.” you laughed softly. “happy ending?" he smiled. “we’re just getting to the good part.”
pairing: Felix x f!reader
wc: 19 ss
tags/warnings: fluff, minor angst, misunderstanding, cursing
part one // part two // part three
masterlist
Summary: When Felix needs a director of photography for his upcoming music video, Chan recommends you, his childhood friend and an aspiring cinematographer.
pairing: Felix x f!reader
wc: 26 ss
tags/warnings: fluff, minor angst, misunderstanding, cursing, implied panic attack, minor medical incident
part one // part two // part three
masterlist
Summary: When Felix needs a director of photography for his upcoming music video, Chan recommends you, his childhood friend and an aspiring cinematographer.
perm. taglist: @virgopotterhead @sue-reads @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @1giss4swft3 @emmalabo @snoop136 @diekleinesuesse @ArielWhite1221 @velvetmoonlght @ch3rry15pin @danielle143 @thisisnotjacinta @geni-627 @barbie-girl84 @clairementsolo @stvr-l0stt @bangchansbig-nose @chandlxa @flippedccc @astrayapple @ylstacy @cchapssaltteok @NiKu_0704 @writtenbypeachy @emeraldgem22 @bahngarang @cb9711 @parkairis18 @persassyismysecrettwin @hey-i-really-miss-you @mikachux3 @haunted1nk @sugarcoathan @udontknowmeppl @estella-novella @angrygardendeer @candyquokka @darbyjaneeee @lyuuu88 @iheartkentonanami @mintchip17 @valpalmaka @missvanjii @iownachihuahua @crashmunson @wolfhallows4 @dustyinkypages @artemiss-moonchild @elliesim19997 @kibs-and-bits @awkwardlyshawna @bunbunbl0gs @ebnabi @wendigo-the-deer @pinkyrec @scarlettmoonsx @99-booksaremylife @existentialdread-mademedoit (to join the permanent taglist fill out this form; to join the series taglist let me know in a comment)
summary: a lab project brings you and han together - him, a shy nerd with glasses and messy curls, and you, the person he’s been secretly in love with for longer than he’ll admit
part 1 | part 2 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6
you wake up to the sound of your alarm, your phone vibrating against the nightstand. for a second you consider ignoring it, just turning your phone off and going to sleep again.
then you remember you have to go to the lab.
and you remember han too.
you roll onto your side and reach out to silence your phone, blinking as the room slowly comes into focus. the light outside is barely pushing through the curtains of you room and you reel your body rested in a way that it hasn’t in a while.
you sit up, rubbing your face again, and as you do, your thoughts drift without permission and you realise you’re thinking about him again.
han’s shy smile.
the way he concentrated when he explained things.
his laugh when changbin joked last night.
the way he looked at you.
you shake your head lightly while a smile grows slowly on your face. you stand up and leave your room to go to the bathroom and start your morning routine - you brush your teeth, wash your face and then go back to your room to pull on clothes that are suitable for the lab but also comfortable enough to last the day.
when you step into the kitchen, jihyo - your dorm mate and also your best friend - is already there, leaning against the counter with a mug in her hands and another one ready for you beside her. she looks up as you enter the room and smiles.
“good morning”, she says and then adds teasing you, “you’re glowing”
you frown, “i’m not”
she raises an eyebrow, “oh, you so are”
you grab your mug, refusing to meet her eyes, “no, i’m not. you’re just being weird”
“no”, she says, a bigger smile on her face now, “you’re just obvious”
you move to sit in a chair across from her, wrapping your hands around the warmth of the mug, “obvious about what?”
jihyo takes a sip, watching you over the rim of the cup, “about him”
you sigh, you already know who she’s referring to, “he’s my lab partner”
“umm”
you hesitate for a moment, and then continue, “but um… he’s nice, patient, really smart, and he really listens”
jihyo nods at your words, “it sounds like you like him”
you sigh again, “i don’t know”
and that’s the truth.
it’s just a crush, not a big one or at least, not yet. but you can’t deny the feeling you get whenever you’re with han, a feeling you don’t want to name because that would mean admitting it could hurt. you already did that once, and it hurt you more than you can say.
you swallow and stand up, going to take your bag and slinging it over your shoulder, “i have to leave, i’m gonna be late if i don’t leave now”
jihyo leaves her mug on the counter and walks over to you. she adjusts the strap on your bag gently, like she always does.
she doesn’t say his name, she doesn’t mention your ex, there’s no need to. you already know.
you nod, your throat thick, “me too”
jihyo opens her arms without a word. you step into the hug easily, resting your forehead against her shoulder for a second longer than usual. she squeezes you tight, her arms warm and grounding around you.
“have a good day”, she says.
you smile against her, “you too”
she pulls back just enough to look at you, a teasing smile on her face, “and have fun with him”
you groan quietly, “stop”
she laughs, giving you a gentle push towards the door, “go, you’re gonna be late”
you wave as you slip your shoes on and step out of your dorm, the door closing softly behind you. the hallway is quiet, and you assume most of the students are still sleeping or are in their classes already.
when you wake your way outside, your thoughts drift again - annoyingly, effortlessly - back to han. you tell yourself it’s nothing. you’re not in love with him, not even close.
but you like the way he treats you.
the way he explains things without talking down to you.
the way his smile looks when you joke with him.
the way his big boba eyes light up his face when he looks at you.
you shake your head lightly as you walk, your hands tucked into your coat pockets. by the time you reach the building, your heart is beating a little faster and it’s not only from nerves exactly, it’s also because you are excited to see him, even if you don’t want to admit it even to yourself.
when you step into the lab, you spot him immediately, sitting in his usual spot - which is yours now too - his notebook open, and his glasses slightly crooked like he has pushed them up one too many times. he looks focused, tapping his pen against the page of the notebook.
you walk towards him quietly, just looking at him.
“thank god i was with you last night because otherwise i would think you live here. you’re always so early, jisung”, you say jokingly when you get close to him.
he looks up, his eyes widening for half a second before he smiles, “yeah. i- uh… changbin was extra loud this morning, so i came a bit earlier than usual”
you laugh softly and sit beside him, “that tracks”
he laughs with you and then stops, “i um, i was looking at the data from the other day, to see what we have to do today”
“of course you were”, you tease him, “overachiever”
his ears tint pink and smiles softly, “i just want to be prepared”
you smile at him, genuine and warm, “i know, and i appreciate it”
as the lab slowly fills, you lean closer to each other, talking about last night and laughing about changbin’s gym stories. he laughs with you, his laugh quieter than yours but just as real.
by the time the professor walks in and calls the class to order, you’re both already prepared to start working together, none of you admitting, not out loud or even to yourselves, that you're really looking forward to this.
weeks pass without either of you really noticing when one week ends and another begins. working together has become something natural. han doesn’t freeze anymore when you sit too close to him and you don’t overthink every word you say to him. there’s a rhythm between you now - shared notes, quiet jokes whispered during lab, some teasing here and there. but there are also times where that new rhythm starts to blur.
sometimes your hands brush when you reach for the same thing.
sometimes you catch him looking at you when he thinks you’re not looking.
sometimes you catch yourself smiling at him for no reason at all.
you both like being around each other.
and neither of you calls it anything. you don’t let yourself, it’s easier that way. safer.
today is one of the rare days without lab, you have to work on another written part, another section of the project that needs attention. you decide to go to the library, hoping that there will be some seats left, not like the last time, when you ended up going to han and changbin’s dorm. you walk there together, your bags slung over your shoulders.
“i still can’t believe how much work this class gives us”, you say, kicking a small stone out of your way.
han hums, “it’s evil”
you laugh, “well, coming from you, that’s serious”
“hey”, he protests softly, smiling at you, “i’m allowed to complain sometimes, you know”
you glance at him. he looks relaxed today - his curls messily adorning his face, his glasses catching the light. you try not to think about it, but there’s something warm and special about walking beside him, about him matching your pace without even thinking.
“but”, he continues, “not having to go to the lab today is good, i like the library”
you grin, “that’s because you’re a nerd”
he gasps, “rude”
“and true”, you tease him and you both start laughing.
when you get to the library, the doors slide open. you can see it’s busy inside - students talking softly, laptops open, pages turning, but before you reach the main study area, you pass the entrance space. there are a couple of vending machines there, and small tables with chairs where students sit eating snacks or drinking something before they study.
you slow down slightly, glancing at the machines.
“do you want something before we start?”, han asks you.
“yeah, i didn’t eat much earlier”, you say.
you move closer to the vending machines, scanning the different options while han stands beside you, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets.
and then-
“y/n”
his voice hits you before you realise.
your body tenses instantly.
you turn slowly.
dong wook. your ex.
he’s standing near one of the tables, a coffee in his hand, and he’s smiling at you, the same smile you once loved but now makes you want to run and hide.
“wow”, he says, walking to you, his eyes scanning you, “long time no see”
han stiffens beside you, confused, glancing between you and him.
you swallow, forcing your face into something neutral.
“hey”, you say quietly.
dong wook takes another step closer to you, making you stomach twist, “i didn’t think i would see you here today”
you feel han shift next to you, subtle but present.
“yeah, well”, you say, carefully, “here i am”
there’s a pause, very uncomfortable and heavy. han keeps standing there with you, watching and sensing there is something completely wrong even if he doesn’t know what it is.
dong wook’s gaze flickers to him for the first time.
“i see you’re not alone”, he says.
his eyes linger on han for a moment longer and then he smirks, and that’s when you know it’s coming.
“so”, he says lightly, taking a sip of his coffee, “is this your tutor or something?”
you feel han tense beside you. his shoulders stiffen, his hands curl slightly at his sides, but he doesn’t say anything. he just blinks, clearly caught off guard, clearly unsure whether he’s even supposed to respond or not.
“we’re partners”, you say, sharper than you mean to, “for a class”
dong wook raises his eyebrows.
“oh, okay”, his gaze flicks back to han, assessing, “you don’t really look like her type anyway”
your stomach drops.
han opens his mouth and then closes it again. you can almost see his thoughts scrambling, his instinct to retreat kicking in before he even realises it.
“dong wook”, you say firmly, “that’s enough”
he laughs under his breath, “oh honey, relax. i’m just saying, you always liked-”
you don’t let him finish, you reach for han’s arm without thinking, your fingers curling around his sleeve.
“let's go”, you say, already pulling him away, “we’re busy”
han barely has time to process it before he’s being guided forward, his feet moving on instinct, letting you lead him past the vending machines, past the tables, deeper into the library.
you don’t look back.
the group study area is quieter but not silent - there are clusters of students murmuring over laptops and whiteboards filled with notes. it’s designed for talking, for collaboration, for studying and working with others without being disruptive.
you choose an empty table near the window and sit down quickly, your movements tense. han sits next to you, slowly and carefully, like he’s afraid of startling you or scare you away.
only then does he notice.
your hands are shaking. not too much, just slightly, but enough for him to notice.
“hey”, he says softly, leaning closer to you, “are you… are you okay?”
you swallow hard, “i-i’m sorry”
his brows knit together immediately, “what? no, you don’t need to-”
“i didn’t know he would be here”, you continue, your voice unsteady, “i’m sorry you had to hear all that, jisung. i should’ve- i shouldn’t have-”
he stops you, shaking his head, “it’s not your fault”
you press your lips together, blinking too fast now. the room feels too bright, too open. the echo of dong wook’s voice still rings in your ears, sharp and familiar in the worst way.
han raises his hand, then hesitates, unsure.
“can i-?”, he asks, gesturing vaguely.
you nod.
he moves closer to you, resting his hand on your shoulder, trying to comfort you, ground you to him. his voice is gentle, very careful.
“you’re okay”, he says quietly, “he’s gone, it’s okay”
your breath stutters.
you hate this. you hate how fast it comes back. the tightness in your chest, the way your body reacts before your mind can catch up.
han continues, “breathe with me, okay? just- slow”
you follow his lead. in, out.
you do it again.
your hands stop shaking.
when you finally turn your head to look at him, his eyes are soft, focused entirely on you. you don’t see judgment there, just concern. for you.
“i’m really sorry”, you whisper again.
he shakes his head, “don’t be”
and for a moment, neither of you speaks. that’s it.
you hear the people around you, talking and working together, but at your table, everything feels suspended. you’re just sitting there, the space between you filled with something fragile and unspoken.
han doesn’t look away.
and neither do you.
you take a steady breath and straighten in your chair.
“okay, i’m fine”, you say, even if it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself that you really are and you’re not just pretending, “we should… we should work”
han watches you for a second longer, clearly wanting to say more. there’s a question in his eyes, concern softening his features, but he doesn’t push. he just nods instead.
“okay”, he says, “we can do that”
he moves in his chair a bit, still sitting so close to you that your shoulders almost touch. you open your laptop, pulling up the document you’ve been working on, and for a while, the world shrinks down to words and data and typing.
minutes pass. then an hour.
you talk, but not like you usually do. your answers are slower, your eyes glaze over the screen sometimes, unfocused. you reread the same paragraph more than three times. when you speak, your voice is lower, distant.
and han notices everything.
he notices the way you flinch when someone laughs too loudly nearby. the way you rub your hands together when you pause. the way your leg bounces under the table, restless. the way you keep biting your lip and clench your hands when you don’t know how to continue.
whoever that guy was - dong something or whatever - he knows. he doesn’t need confirmation. and whatever happened between you and him, it still has weight. it still hurts you.
after a while, han quietly stands up, “i’m gonna go to the bathroom, i’ll be right back”
you nod absently.
he goes there and he can’t help but think about you. how the girl that is sitting next to him today is not the same girl he has come to know during this project. he hates seeing you like this, he hates not knowing what to do to make it better for you. whatever it is.
on his way back, he slows near the vending machines, and sees that thankfully that guy is not there anymore.
he hesitates only for a second before taking his card out of his pocket. you were gonna buy something before that guy saw you. and then you two left, with no food or drinks. he buys you a snack and a drink, something he hopes you’ll like. it’s not a grand gesture, but he still does it anyway. when he returns to the group area, he slows to a stop.
you’re asleep.
your head rests on your folded arms, your hair falling forward to shield your face. your breathing is slow, even. exhaustion has finally claimed you.
han’s chest tightens seeing you.
he walks closer to you and then, he sets the snack and drink quietly on the table, careful not to make a sound and then, he sits back in his chair.
for a moment, he just watches you.
you look peaceful now, but inside him, there’s a heaviness in knowing what it took for you to get there. he opens his laptop again and then, he looks at you to make sure you’re still comfortable, that he’s not disturbing you.
he tries to focus on the project, but his thoughts spiral despite himself. changbin’s words from the night he met you come back, haunting him.
“she used to date this complete idiot… i didn’t hear much about the breakup. just that it ended badly. for her”
what did that guy do to you?
he clenches his jaw, worry settling deep in his chest, but whatever it is, he hopes he can make it better, so for now, he just lets you sleep while he works.
at first he tells himself he’ll only let you rest for a few minutes, but time slips quietly past him, measured in lines of text and the soft hum of the library. and every so often, he looks at you. your shoulders finally relax. the crease between your brows is not there anymore. your fingers loosen where they’re curled against your sleeve.
he lowers his typing even more, almost holding his breath when someone nearby drags a chair too loudly. he shifts slightly so his body blocks some of the movement around you, an unconscious thing, protective without intention.
nearly an hour passes like that.
and then you stir. it’s slow at first, just a small shift of your head, then a quiet breath as you lift your face from your arms. your eyes blink open, unfocused, adjusting to the light. you freeze when you realise where you are and you see that han was still working.
“oh-”, you say, straightening quickly, “i’m sorry, jisung, i didn’t mean to fall asleep, i-”
han’s chair scrapes softly as he turns towards you, “hey, it’s okay”, he says right away.
you push your hair back, embarrassed, “no, it’s not. we were supposed to work together and i left you alone, that’s not fair”
“you didn’t”, he says, “and even if you did, it would still be fine”
you shake your head, “jisung-”
“really”, he insists, a small smile pulling at his lips, “you needed it, i could tell”
that makes you pause.
you look at him, searching his face, expecting to find judgement there. there’s none. you don’t know why but that makes your chest ache in a way you’re not ready to name yet, because it would make it too real.
“i brought you something”, he says, nodding towards the table.
you notice the snack and drink for the first time and your throat tightens.
“y-you didn’t have to do that”
“i wanted to”
you sit back in your chair, your shoulders slumping a little now that you’re awake. the tiredness settles in properly, heavy and unavoidable, and han can see it, you can’t hide it. han saves the document and then closes his laptop gently before he speaks again.
“we can stop for today”
you blink, “but we still have to-”
“we’ve done enough”, he says, “and i don’t think forcing it right now will help”
you hesitate before you speak, “i… i don’t want to mess up the schedule”
“you won’t”, he says, “we’re doing good, don’t worry about that”
there’s a beat of silence.
“do you want to go out for a bit?”, he asks you carefully, “just… get some air, no studying”
you think about it, about staying here, about going back to your dorm, about the weight that’s been sitting in your chest since you saw dong wook.
“yeah”, you say softly, “i’d like that”
he smiles at you, big and bright, “okay”
you both pack up slowly, slipping your laptops into your bags, gathering your notebooks as well. when you stand up, your chest still feels a little heavy, but lighter than before. as you walk out of the library together, the late afternoon air hitting your face, cool and grounding.
han looks at you, “where do you want to go?”
you take a step ahead of him, then turn back with a small, almost shy smile.
“i want to take you somewhere”, you say.
he blinks surprised, “me?”
you nod, “yeah, but you have to trust me”
his ears turn pink immediately.
“o-okay”, he says, laughing nervously, “i trust you”
“good, then come with me”
you turn back again and start walking, slowly and unhurried. you lead the way, your hands tucked in your pockets, looking at han every so often, like you’re checking he’s still there. and he is, matching your pace, his eyes curious but calm.
“you’re being very mysterious about this”, he says after a while, smiling a little.
you hum, “i like being mysterious”
“should i be scared?”
you laugh softly, “no, i promise”
the path you take veers slightly away from the main campus walkways, cutting through a quieter area lined with bare trees and low buildings. the noise faced the further you go - fewer voices, fewer footsteps, until it feels like you’re the only people in the world. han notices it too, his shoulders relaxing and his breathing evening out.
“i didn’t know this path existed”, he says.
“most people don’t”, you say, “that’s why i like it”
eventually, you stop. in front of you, the ground opens into a small overlook, nothing grand, just a slightly raised area with a low stone edge and a view that stretches further than han could expect. the city sits below, rooftops glowing faintly, and beyond that, the sky is painted in warm oranges and soft purples as the sun dips low.
han goes quiet.
“wow”, he breathes.
you smile, sitting down on the stone edge, “you like it?”
he nods and sits beside you.
“i come here sometimes, when i need to think or just breathe a bit. not a lot of people know this place so i’m usually alone here, and i think it has become my safe place here”, you tell him.
he looks at you and moves a bit closer, careful not to crown you, his hands resting on his knees. the sunset reflects in his glasses, and for a moment, neither of you says anything. you just sit there, watching the light change, the air cool slowly around you.
you’re used to being here alone, it’s the first time you bring someone here with you. not even jihyo knows this place. but having han here, with you… it feels safe. you feel safe with him.
after a while, you speak.
“jisung, about earlier…”, you say quietly.
han turns to you at once, attentive, “you don’t have to-”
“i want to”, you say gently, “i don’t like leaving things… half explained”
he nods, “okay”
you look at the horizon and sigh, your fingers twisting together in your lap.
“that was dong wook, my ex”, you say, “the guy from before”
han’s jaw tightens slightly, but he stays silent.
“we… dated for almost a year”, you continue, “he was, well is, really popular. loud. everyone knew him. and he was just… so confident”, you let out a small, almost embarrassed laugh, “he chased me for a long time, and i didn’t really get why”
you look at han briefly, “i’m not used to people doing that, especially not someone like him”
han’s eyes soften. he really gets what you’re trying to say.
“at first, it was nice”, you say, “he made me feel seen, like i was special”, your voice dips, “and for a while… i really believed it”
you pause, swallowing, before continuing.
“then things started changing. little things. comments. not reaching back. missing dates”, you shrug lightly, like you’re trying to downplay it, “i kept telling myself that it was normal, that i was overthinking and he just had other things”
you stare at your hands, “i’d… i’d always been scared of people getting tired of me. and leaving. and he knew that”
han’s chest aches at that. he wants to reach for you, but he doesn’t, not yet.
“and then five months ago he just… ended it”, you say, “one day he just said he was tired, that i was too much and he’d had enough”
your voice cracks, just slightly.
“it was exactly what i’d always been afraid of”
silence stretches between you, thick and heavy.
“there are a lot of rumours- fuck, there were rumours even before we broke up”, you continue while a broken laugh escapes at the same time as the first tears fall down your face, “i heard things. about him. about us. about other people”, you close your eyes and shake your head, “i wanted to ignore them. i just wanted to believe that everything was okay, even when, deep down, i knew it wasn’t”
your eyes sting, and you laugh weakly as more tears spill over, “stupid right?”
han moves closer then, slowly and carefully, his shoulder brushing yours, “it’s not stupid, not at all”
you wipe your cheeks, frustrated, “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to cry”
“you don’t need to apologise”, he says, his voice firm but gentle, “ever”
you sniff, letting out a shaky breath, “seeing him today just… brought everything back”
han nods, “that makes sense”
you look at him, “it does?”
“yeah”, he says, “anyone would feel shaken after that”
you smile softly at him, your shoulders loosening a bit, “thank you. for today. for… everything”
he scratches the back of his neck, embarrassed, “you don’t have to thank me, y/n”
“i do”, you insist softly, “and i’m really happy you’re here with me now”
the sun dips lower, the sky deepening into softer shades. han looks at you, thinking how unfair it is that someone made you feel like that. but he doesn’t say it out loud. he can’t.
instead, he says, “i’m glad you told me, and that you brought me here”
you nod, you breathing steady now, “me too”
the sky is darker now, the last streaks of colour fading into deep blue. you take a slow breath and stretch your legs a little.
“we should probably head back”, you say, “it’s getting late”
han nods, though he looks like he could stray there with you longer without complaint, “yeah, okay”
you stand up first, brushing one hand through your hair, then turn to him with a small smile, “i’m buying dinner tonight”
his head snaps up, “what? no, you don’t have to-”
“i am”, you say, already stepping back onto the path, “you paid before in the library and before you say anything else, i still owe you”
“owe me?”, he blinks.
“yeah”, you say grinning, “for the night i ate dinner at your dorm with you and changbin, remember? i promised i would pay the next time”
he opens his mouth, clearly ready to argue, then freezes.
“... oh”
you turn around and look at him, “see? no arguments”
he stands up and exhales a laugh, defeated, “that’s not fair”
he shakes his head, smiling to himself and falls into step beside you. the campus is quieter when you get there, the lights flickering on one by one as students drift towards dorms and cafés. you head towards one of the small restaurants near the centre, nothing fancy, but the smell of pizza - the same thing you ate the last time - drifting out the door makes you walk straight there without even thinking.
once you’re inside, you grab a table near the window, shrugging off your coats and jackets. han sits across from you, his glasses fogging slightly from the warmth. you order for the both of you, because you’re already familiar with the place, and when the pizza arrives, it’s too big for just one of you, which somehow makes it even better.
“this smells amazing”, han says, his eyes lighting up.
“yeah. and you’re welcome by the way”, you say laughing.
you eat slowly, the conversation flowing easily between you - things you do when you have free time, silly stories from class, comments about professors, random conversations about people walking past the window. han laughs more than he usually does, his shoulders loose and his eyes big and bright behind his glasses.
at one point, you reach for a slice at the same time and your fingers brush. it’s brief, barely there, but you both pause and look at each other, your cheeks flushing.
“sorry”, you say at the same time.
you laugh and he laughs too, a little breathless.
“go ahead”, he says.
“no, you”, you say.
you end up splitting it, your hands meeting again as you tear it in half, but neither of you pulls away immediately this time.
han’s heart is doing something very unhelpful in his chest. he watches the way you smile when you talk, the way you lean forward when you laugh, the way your eyes soften when you look at him. he notices how close you’re sitting now, your knees almost touching under the table.
you notice things too - the way his voice drops when he talks to you, the way he looks at you without taking his eyes from you, too scared to miss anything. you tell yourself you’re imagining things, but it’s getting harder to believe it.
“this was a good idea”, he says while eating his last slice.
“what? the pizza?, you ask him.
“no, well, yeah. i mean, coming here together”, he says, his cheeks blushing again.
your smile softens, “yeah, it was”
you finish eating, lingering even when the plates are empty, neither of you in a rush to leave. you stay there talking and laughing, enjoying being together in a place that doesn’t involve numbers and words and projects.
when you finally stand up, you feel lighter and happier than you have in weeks. walking back together, your hands brush - once, twice, until you stop counting - but neither of you comments on it.
the path lights cast soft pools of yellow on the pavement, stretching your shadows long and close together. your hands keep brushing - your knuckles, your fingers, the side of his hand grazing your wrist. you feel a smile growing in your face, so you bite your lip to hide it, because you don't want han to see it.
when your dorm building comes into view, he insists on walking you to your door, and you let him, not wanting to lose those extra minutes with him. once you’re inside, you slow down without meaning too, your steps shortening, trying to keep this moment from ending. but eventually, you reach your door.
“this is me”, you say, stopping right outside your door.
han nods, his hands stuffing into his pockets like he doesn’t trust them anymore, “right”
you turn to face each other fully now, standing too close to be casual, too far to be brave.
“thank you”, you say quietly, “for… well, for everything”
he shakes his head, “you don’t have to thank me, i liked today. a lot”
your eyes meet his and for a second, neither of you looks away. you notice his gaze drop - just briefly - to your mouth and your heart stutters.
your own eyes follow the movement, looking at his lips before you can stop yourself, and when you look back up, he’s already caught you doing it.
the moment stretches and stops at the same time. his shoulders lift slightly as if he’s about to lean in. your fingers curl at your side, your heart pounding, every instinct screaming to move closer, closer, closer-
and then he stops.
you stop too.
both of you hesitate, fear slipping quietly between you. fear of ruining something. fear of moving too fast. fear of wanting more than the other is ready to give.
instead, you swallow and smile, softly, almost apologetic.
“goodnight, jisung”, you say.
he swallows too, “goodnight, y/n”
for a second longer, neither of you moves and then, he steps back, slow, reluctant, his eyes still on you like it pains him to walk away from you. you watch him walk away until he disappears and only then do you turn and go inside.
you go straight to jihyo’s room, knowing she will be there reading or watching a movie. you find her sitting cross-legged on her bed, her laptop open and her hair pulled up messily. she looks up immediately and one look at your face tells her enough.
“what happened?”, she asks you.
you drop your bag by the bed and let out a long breath, “a lot”
she closes her laptop without another word and pats the bed beside her, “come here”
you sit with her, staring at the bed for a moment like you’re trying to pull yourself together before you speak.
“i ran into him, at the library”
her expression changes immediately, “dong wook?”
you nod.
“he saw me and came up to me like nothing had ever happened. then he started making comments about jisung”, your voice wobbles, “i couldn’t even breathe properly, i was shaking so badly”
jihyo’s jaw tightens, “what did you do?”
“i grabbed jisung’s hand and pulled him away”, you say, “i didn’t even think about it. i just… i needed to get out of there and i didn’t want him to be there either”
you swallow before you continue.
“jisung didn’t even say a word at him, he just followed me, sat with me and then he made sure i was okay. i was really struggling, i know he could see it, and at one point i fell asleep and he just… he just let me. he bought me a snack and a drink because i had said i didn’t eat much before and continued working while i was sleeping. and then when i woke up, i was still in a bad place so he said we should leave and get some fresh air and i was so worried about everything but he was just trying to calm me down and just making sure i was okay”, you feel your eyes watering again.
jihyo shifts closer, wrapping her arm around your shoulders to pull you closer. you pause, pressing your lips together.
“and then i told him. everything”
“about dong wook?”, she asks you.
“yeah”, you say, “about how we started dating, about how i was scared that he’d get tired of me”, you feel tears running down your face now, “about how he eventually did”
you let out a sob before continuing, “i cried in front of him and he didn’t rush me, he just… listened, he was there for me, he stayed”
jihyo lets out a quiet sound, “oh, and then?”
you smile faintly, “i bought him dinner”, you say, laughing softly, “pizza. we talked and joked and… it felt good. really good, jihyo. like, i was not asking for too much, like being with me didn’t drain him”
you grab a pillow and hug it to your chest, your cheeks warm, “and then, when he walked me back here… i really thought he was going to kiss me”
jihyo lets out a gasp before he speaks, “oh my god, really?”
“yeah, we just… stood there”, you say, “staring at each other. and his eyes kept going to my lips, mine did too”, you let out a shaky breath, “and i wanted him to kiss me, i really did”
you bury your face into the pillow before you add, “and that’s what scares me”
jihyo hums knowingly, “because you’re falling for him”
you peek up at her, “i am. i don’t want to ruin it”, your voice drops, “what if he gets tired of me too?”
she squeezes your arm gently, “did he seem like he wanted to leave today?”
you shake your head.
“did he make you feel like he wasn’t paying attention to you?”
“... no”
“that’s because he’s not like your ex, y/n”, she says softly.
you don’t answer right away. jihyo’s words echo softly in your head, lingering in the quiet space between thoughts. you roll the sentence around, testing it, afraid of how much you want to believe it.
you and jihyo sit there for a few more minutes, your shoulders brushing, the room slowly calming again. eventually she nudges you gently.
“come on, get some rest”, she says, “you’ve had a long day”
you nod, standing up slowly, “yeah, thank you”
she smiles at you before you leave, “goodning, y/n”
you wave your hand and smile back before heading to your room.
inside, you change quietly and then wash your face. you stare at your reflection for a moment longer than usual, still seeing traces of emotion there, the whole day written all over your face - tired eyes but lighter underneath somehow.
you crawl into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin. your thoughts drift back to han without effort - his voice, his laugh, his hand brushing yours, his gaze on your lips.
your phone buzzes beside you and you hear jumps. you grab it immediately.
han: hey, i just got into bed
you bite your lip, already smiling and then another text comes through.
han: today was really nice. i’m really happy i got to be with you
your chest tightens, warm and aching all at once. you read it twice. then a third time just because you can. your fingers hover over the screen, unsure of what to say, scared of saying too much or not enough, but before you can decide, another text appears.
han: sleep well, okay?
you let out a soft breath, pressing the phone to your chest for a moment, like it might calm the way your heart is racing. you type back slowly.
you: you too, jisung
you: thank you for today
you set your phone down, staring up at the ceiling, a quiet smile playing on your lips.
maybe you’re scared.
maybe you’re falling.
but tonight, wrapped in his words and his hand brushing yours, you let yourself drift to sleep imagining how it would be to feel his lips pressing against yours.
a/n: part 3 is here!! thank you so much for the love my darlings, enjoy the calm before the storm 😇
likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated 🌟
if you want me to add you to a taglist for the next parts let me know in the comments!!
summary: a lab project brings you and han together - him, a shy nerd with glasses and messy curls, and you, the person he’s been secretly in love with for longer than he’ll admit
part 1 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6
the next morning comes slowly for han. it starts as a blur of half-formed thoughts in the middle of his still sleepy state, the dull light pressing through the curtains of his room. he shifts under the covers and then frowns a little, pulling the blanket closer to his chin, trying to escape from the cold. his glasses and yesterday’s notes sit forgotten on his nightstand, the world still quiet and unfocused.
for a few seconds, his mind is empty, it’s silent. but then it hits him.
the lab.
the project.
his name and then yours, spoken out loud by your professor.
you standing in front of him, smiling, and then sitting next to him.
his eyes fly open.
“oh no”, he groans, burying his face in his pillow.
his heart starts racing like it always does when he thinks about you - too fast, too loud, like it’s trying to escape his chest and leave him there. yesterday floods back in pieces: the way you said his name, the way you leaned closer next to him, the sound of your laugh when he tripped over his words like a complete idiot, the way you looked at him with that bright eyes that have him in the palm of your hands.
he rolls onto his back, staring at the ceiling.
“what am i gonna do?”, he mutters to himself.
his brain is already running ahead of him, replaying every second, magnifying every awkward pause, every stupid sentence. he groans again, dragging his hands down his face.
you’re nice, smart. you’re easy to talk to. and that’s one problem.
but you’re also beautiful, absolutely beautiful. and that’s a bigger problem.
“oh fuck, i’m so screwed”, he says, his voice muffled by the planket as he pulls it over his head now.
he lies there for a moment longer, feeling his heart still beating too fast, trying to calm himself down. it’s just a project, nothing new. it’s just a lab partner. just you.
just the person he’s been crushing for way too long.
he closes his eyes and another groan almost leaves him when he hears it, something loud blasting through the dorm.
music. very loud music at that.
han winces immediately, his groan finally leaving him as the sound vibrates through the walls. it’s a love song, a love song that makes him want to crawl out of his own skin.
“oh god, no”, he grunts, “no, no, no”
the door to his room swings open without warning.
changbin bursts in, already mid-song, his voice loud and enthusiastic and very much off-key.
“romeo, save me, i’ve been feeling so alone”, changbin sings, or rather, screams.
“get out”, han says flatly, not even looking at him.
changbin ignores him completely, spinning once in the middle of the room like he’s performing in the middle of the stage, one hand pressed to his chest while the other pretends to hold a mic close to his mouth.
“i keep waiting for you, but you never come”, changbin continues singing.
“changbin”, han says, covering his head with the pillow as changbin sings, “i swear to god”
changbin laughs, the sound bright and loud, too awake for this hour. he moves and stands up on han’s bed, moving closer to him, still singing.
“he knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring and said”
han sits up abruptly, his hair sticking up in every direction, his eyes tired and annoyed behind the mess.
“‘marry me, juliet, you’ll never have to be alone’”, changbin sings as he kneels on han’s bed rigth in front of him.
“why are you like this?”, han asks him, even though he knows the answer.
changbin finally stops singing, grinning at him like he has done the best thing in the world.
“good morning to you too, romeo”
“i am not romeo”, han grumbles.
“mmhm, okay, whatever you say, romeo”, changbin says, sitting down on the bed, “so, are you ready to spend another day with your juliet?”
han freezes.
“... i hate you”
changbin laughs again, louder this time, “oh come on, you’re being dramatic, you’re only seeing the bad side of it”
han groans, falling back onto the mattress.
“please, leave”
“not until you sing the song with me this time”, changbin says, starting the song again on his phone.
“don’t you dare”
too late.
“we were both young when i first saw you”, changbin starts singing again.
han throws a pillow at him without looking and it hits changbin square in the face.
“wow”, changbin laughs, clutching his chest, “you’re getting good at this, should i be scared?”
“get out of my room”, han groans, “go to the gym. go anywhere. disappear”
changbin stands up, still laughing, clearly pleased with himself and his little musical number.
“relax”, he says heading for the door, “you’ll be fine, it’s not like you’re gonna pass out when you see her today”
“i might”, han says.
changbin pauses at the door, smirking back at him
“oh, then she’s the one that’s saving you?”, he teases him, “she’s romeo and you’re juliet?”
han grabs another pillow and throws it again, harder this time. changbin dodges it easily, laughing as he steps into the hallway.
“idiot”, han calls after him.
“come out before i eat your breakfast too”, changbin shouts back.
silence styles back into the room and han lies there, staring at the ceiling again, your face already creeping back into his thoughts no matter how hard he tries to stop it.
he groans loudly, and finally stands up, taking his glasses and leaving his room to go and have breakfast with changbin. as soon as he sits at the small kitchen table in their dorm, his spoon hovering uselessly over his bowl, he knows it’s gonna be a loud breakfast with changbin continuously teasing him and laughing and talking. or maybe he’s shouting while he laughs, it’s hard to tell the difference this early in the morning.
“so”, changbin says around a mouthful of cereal, “are you gonna sit next to her again or one day was enough for you?”
han glares at him.
“i’m eating”, he says, “can you not?”
“oh, i definitely can”, changbin grins, “i just don’t want to”
han sighs, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. he chews slowly, hoping the normal and mundane act of breakfast will somehow calm his nerves down. but it doesn’t. his stomach feels tight, the nerves buzzing under his skin without stopping.
changbin hums to himself, clearly enjoying this far too much.
“did you dream about her?”, he asks him casually.
han chokes.
“wha- no!”
changbin laughs, reaching over to pat his back a little too hard, “relax, romeo, i’m kidding… or not”
han groans, finishing his breakfast as fast as possible. when he finishes, he goes to his room to get ready and then he grabs his bag, and heads for the door before changbin can say anything else that will make his face burn.
the air outside helps a little. he walks across campus, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat, his shoulders slightly hunched. the path to the lab is familiar, he could do it with his eyes closed. he has walked this same route a hundred times before, but today every step feels heavier.
changbin’s voice still echoes in his head, but he knows he was just teasing him, being playful. he knows he wants the best for him, he really does. and he wants the same for him too.
his thoughts drift to you again without permission. the way you smiled at him, the way you really listened to him, like you were genuinely interested in what he had to say, even if he was just making an idiot of himself.
he presses his lips together.
“get it together”, he says under his breath.
he doesn’t want to repeat what he did yesterday. he doesn’t want to be awkward. he wants to try, to talk to you, to be normal, or at least… a better version of himself.
for you.
his heart beats faster again, equal parts nerves and determination.
by the time he reaches the lab, his cheeks are warm and his head is full. he pushes through the doors, the scent of disinfectant and chemicals greeting him immediately. the room is almost empty when he steps in, just the hum of equipment and the low buzz of fluorescent lights.
he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and makes his way to his usual seat. he sets his bag down carefully, pulls out his notebook and lines everything up the way he likes it. it’s a habit, something he does to search for comfort.
he sits and then, waits.
his leg bounces slightly under the table before he forces it still. he takes a deep breath, then another, trying to calm the storm inside him. he glances at the door, then quickly looks away, his heart jumping at every sound, every movement in the hallway, every time the door opens and someone comes in.
he waits for you, his fingers laced together on the table, and he just hopes that today, he’ll do better. the door opens again and han’s head lifts instantly, almost against his will, and his heart does that stupid thing where it jumps straight into his throat.
it’s you.
you step into the lab with your bag slung over one shoulder, your hair slightly messy like you had run to get to the lab, your cheeks a bit pink. you look around for a second and then your eyes land on him and your face lights up.
“hey!”, you say, walking over to him without hesitation, “you’re early”
han blinks, then nods his head a little too fast, “y-yeah, i umm… i usually am”
you smile wider at him and then slide into the seat next to him, close enough that he can smell your perfume, which immediately makes his brain short-circuit.
“good”, you say, “that means we can prepare everything without rushing”
he swallows, his fingers tightening around his pen, “y-yeah, that’s… good”
smooth. incredibly smooth.
you don’t seem to notice his internal crisis. instead, you open your notebook, look at his things and nod approvingly.
“you’re really organised”, you say, “i like that”
hir ears go red.
“oh, uh... thank you”, he says, pushing his glasses up again.
there’s a small pause, it’s comfortable but also new, and then you fill it without effort.
“so”, you say, turning to him with that same bright smile that has haunted him since yesterday, “did you understand everything the professor said yesterday? because i read it again last night and i swear i didn’t copy some of the things he said and i didn’t get it”
he lets out a small, surprised laugh before he can stop himself.
“yeah”, he says, a bit more relaxed now that you’re talking about something familiar to him, “i mean, mostly, you can copy my notes if you want”
“yes please”, you say immediately, “you’re saving my life”
his chest warms at that but before he can respond, the professor walks in, getting everyone’s attention as the quiet replaces the chatter and movement.
the professor explains today’s tasks - preparing samples, running tests, recording results - but han feels his nerves creeping back in. he focuses hard, nodding along, jotting down details, but completely aware of you beside him doing the same.
“okay, so we have to work through these steps today, and then continue in the next session”, you say once the professor finishes explaining.
han nods again, almost automatically.
you turn to him and say softly, “okay, lead the way, lab genius”
he snorts before he can stop himself, then immediately looks embarrassed, “i’m not- i mean… okay umm, first we need to-”
you listen and lean closer to him as you start working together. you ask questions when something isn’t clear, then nod when he explains it and finally makes sense. every time time you ask him something, a little bit of his tension melts away.
“oh, okay, yeah, that makes a lot of sense”, you say at one point, “thanks for explaining it like that”
“yeah, no problem”, he says, his voice steadier now.
as you work, the rhythm settles in. measuring, checking, writing, then checking again. your sleeves brush occasionally, your shoulders bump, and each time it happens, han’s heart stutters, but it’s not as overwhelming anymore.
you start talking about yourself between steps - about your hobbies, about what you do when you’re not stuck in the lab.
“i thought about switching majors last year”, you say, carefully labeling a vial, “but i knew i would miss the lab too much”
han smiles at that, small but genuine and warm, “yeah, i feel the same way. we might be stuck here sometimes but it’s also… calming, in a weird way”
you glance at him, “right?”
you laugh together, and then, han forgets how nervous he had been before.
at one point, you make a joke about nearly spilling something and he laughs, his head tipping back slightly before he catches himself. you smile at him, brighter and bigger than before.
“there it is”, you say, “i knew you’d loosen up eventually”
he feels his face warming up again, “i’m trying”, he says honestly.
by the time you finish the last step, both of you are leaning over the table, checking your notes.
“we’re done, right?”, you say.
han scans the page, then nods his head, “yeah, that’s everything for today”
you stretch your arms above your head with a small groan, “thank god, my brain is fried”
he smiles, packing his things, “you did really well”
“really?”
“yeah”, he says, “you’re… easy to work with”
your smile this time is gentles, almost shy, “thank you… you too, jisung”
jisung. his name. not a lot of people call him like that, most of them using just han. only those close to him use his real name. and you have done it.
he feels his chest getting warm again.
the room starts to empty around you, but for a moment neither of you moves. as you stand there, with your bag over your shoulder, you glance back at him before you ask him.
“same time tomorrow?”
his heart skips.
“yeah”, he says, “definitely”
after you head to the door and turn around at the last moment to wave goodbye, han sits down again, his legs trembling, and he wonders how he’s gonna do this again, day after day.
a few days pass and working together in the lab becomes easy, almost as easy as ignoring changbin and his constant teasing and jokes.
han doesn’t freeze anymore when you sit beside him. his hands don’t shake as much when he passes you equipment. he still pushes his glasses up when he’s nervous though, and he still overthinks every sentence before it leaves his mouth, but the tight knot in his chest loosens every time you smile at him.
you’re good, really good.
you catch mistakes before they become problems. you ask questions that make the work smoother. you remember details that he forgets and then laugh it off when he apologises too much. you’re bright and sharp and curious but also easygoing, humming softly while you work, making quiet jokes when things get tedious.
and every day, han falls a little harder for you.
and honestly, it scares him. how natural it feels to sit next to you. how he starts looking forward to seeing you the next day as soon as he goes to sleep. how your name pops into his head all the time - when he’s brushing his teeth, when he’s pretending to listen to changbin, when he’s walking across campus, when he’s lying in bed staring at the ceiling again.
you have finished one of the lab parts of the project, so today is the first day you actually have to sit down and write one of the reports.
“library?”, you suggest as you walk together across campus, your bag bumping lightly against his arm.
“yeah”, han says.
but when you get there, you see that’s not gonna be an option. every table is taken - laptops, notebooks, coffee cups everywhere. low murmurs fill the space, chairs scrapping, pages flipping. there’s not a single free seat.
you stand there for a moment, scanning the room, then let out a small sigh.
“okay… you have a plan b?”, you say, letting out a low laugh, half amused.
han swallows, “we could… umm, try another floor?”
you shake your head, “no, it’s always worse upstairs”
you think for a second before you speak again, “i’d offer my dorm, but my dorm mate got people over there for another project, so it’s gonna be packed too”
“oh”, han says quickly, “yeah, that’s… yeah”
there’s a pause, and he feels it stretching, heavy and loud in his head. his heart starts beating faster as the thought forms before he can stop it. he hesitates and then clears his throat.
“umm”, he says, his eyes fixed on the floor for a second, “we could… go to my dorm?”
you blink, then look at him.
“really?”
he nods, his hands gripping his bag straps, “my dorm mate is at the gym. he’s uh… he’s usually there for hours”
you smile softly at him, “are you sure, jisung?”
there it is, his name again, it’s something you do almost every day now.
“y-yeah, i mean, only if you’re okay with it”
“of course”, you say quickly, “that would be great”
and just like that, it’s decided.
as you start walking towards his dorm together, han’s thoughts begin to spiral. alone with you, for hours. he tells himself to clam down, it’s nothing weird. nothing different.
but his heart doesn’t listen.
when you get to his dorm, he feels oddly nervous unlocking the door, like he’s letting you into something private, a new part of himself.
“wow”, you say once the door closes behind you, “it’s cozy”
han smiles, “yeah, umm, sorry if it’s a bit messy”
you drop your bag near the table and look at him again, that same open expression and bright smile that makes his chest ache.
“come on, lab genius, let’s get started with this”, you say.
you both sit down together, your laptops open and your notes spread across the table. han’s nervous but he’s also happy. he’s terrified that you’re there with him, but he also realises that he’s also terrified that he might miss you too much when the project finishes and you’re not there with him anymore.
you sit close enough that your shoulders brush sometimes when you both lean towards your screens. han explains things carefully, stopping every so often to make sure he’s not talking too fast. you listen closely, nodding, also explaining things to make your work easier.
“wait”, you say, pointing at you screen, “if we phrase it like that, doesn’t it sound like the result was accidental?”
he squints at it, “oh, yeah, you’re right”
you grin, “yay! caught you”
“okay okay, lab genius”, he laughs.
“that’s your title”, you say laughing.
“no, no”, he shakes his head, smiling wider now, “you stole it”
every laugh and every shared joke loosens something in his chest. at one point he drops his pen, and when he bends down to grab it, he knocks his knee against the table.
“ouch”, he mutters.
you laugh immediately, “are you okay?”
“yeah”, he says, embarrassed, “physically, i’m fine, yeah”
“bad table, that was rude”, you say seriously.
he snorts before he can stop himself, then freezes a bit, surprised at how easy that felt.
time blurs - sentences get written, deleted, then rewritten. you read things out loud to see how they sound. he catches typos you miss. you bump elbows. your knee rests against his without either of you moving away, although he feels his heart beating fast for a completely different reason that the project.
eventually, you both sit back and stretch.
“i think we’re done with this part”
you scroll through the document one last time before you say, “yeah. yeah, we are”
you high-five him without thinking and the sound echoes slightly in the quiet room.
“we make a good team”, you say, smiling at him.
his face warms, “w-we do”
you’re still talking, still laughing together, joking with each other, when the door suddenly opens.
“oh my god”, changbin’s voice fills the room, “leg day has absolutely destroyed me”
he kicks his shoes off and then he keeps rambling as he drops his gym bag by the door.
“but”, he continues, “i decided i deserved pizza, so i bought two, because, i’m obviously the best friend ever, and you know i’m generous and kind like that and-”
he finally looks up and sees you with han.
alone.
“... oh”, he says.
han goes stiff immediately.
“h-hi, changbin”, han blurts out, standing halfway from his chair before realising he doesn’t need to, “this is, umm… this is y/n, my umm, my lab partner”
you smile and stand up properly, smiling at changbin, “hi, nice to meet you”
changbin grins at you and then says, “hi, y/n, nice to meet you too”
han’s brain short-circuits and before he can speak again, changbin continues talking.
“well, it’s a good thing i bought two pizzas, because you’re staying for dinner”
your eyes widen, “oh, i… i really don’t want to intrude-”
“no, that’s not an option”, changbin says firmly, “you’re gonna be our guest tonight, you’re not getting out of this”
han opens his mouth to protest on your behalf but you laugh softly.
“okay”, you say, “if you insist”
you sit around the small table, the pizza boxes now open. changbin talks nonstop about the gym, about some guy who dropped a dumbbell, about how sore he’s going to be tomorrow. you laugh easily, asking questions, reacting with genuine interest.
han watches you more than he eats. every now and then, you look at him when changbin says something ridiculous, like the two of you are sharing a silent joke, and his heart stumbles every time.
nothing is awkward or forced, and when you finish eating, han is surprised to find out that he’s having a really good time.
when you finally stand up to leave, taking your things with you, han immediately stands up too.
“i’ll walk you”, he says quickly.
you shake your head with a smile, “you don’t have to, really. my dorm is close, it’s literally five minutes from here”
“but-”
“i’ll be fine”, you reassure him, “i promise you”
you say goodbye to changbin and thank him for dinner one more time before you leave. you head to the door and turn to look at han one more time, “thanks for today, jisung, i had a lot of fun”
his voice is soft and warm when he replies, “yeah, me too”
you smile at him again before you leave and close the door behind you. the silence lingers for half a second, enough time for han to turn around and see changbin already looking at him.
“i didn’t know you had a crush on the y/n”
han blinks, “what?”
changbin raises an eyebrow, “you know, that y/n”
han’s confusion deepens, “what do you mean?”
“i know her from the gym”, changbin says, sitting down in a chair.
“you do?”, han squeaks.
“yeah”, changbin says, “well, not know her personally, but i’ve seen her around. she used to date this complete idiot for a while. loud, cocky, thought he was a hot stuff and could just walk her around like a trophy he had won”
han frowns, “really?”
“mmhm”, changbin nods, looking more thoughtful now, “i always thought it was weird, like… i don’t know, i had never spoken with her before, but she always seemed so sweet and kind, it just… i don't know, it didn’t make sense to me”
he looks at han again, “and after today? it makes even less sense if i’m honest”
han doesn’t know what to say at first and changbin watches him for a moment longer.
“for what it’s worth”, changbin continues, rubbing the back of his neck, “i didn’t hear much about the breakup. just that it ended badly. for her. people at the gym talked but… you know how it is. rumours”
han’s stomach twists, “badly?”
changbin nods, “yeah, but i don’t know anything else, sorry”, he pauses, then adds, softer, “but she looked really happy tonight, jisung, she seemed to be doing fine”
han swallows.
he thinks about the way you laughed with him while you worked together. and then how you laughed with changbin during dinner. how easy your smile was. how comfortable you seemed sitting there, joking with both of them.
“and you two looked good together”, changbin says, looking at the empty chair you’d been sitting on, “i mean it, i know i tease you a lot about your crush on her and that but i really mean it this time”
han’s ears burn, but he doesn’t argue.
they clean up in a comfortable silence. changbin hums while stacking boxes, han wipes the table, still half-lost in his thoughts. every moment feels slower, heavier, like he’s still trying to process what changbin had told him.
once everything is cleaned, changbin stretches.
“get some sleep, romeo”, he says lightly, “i’m sure you have another busy day tomorrow”
han groans, “please, stop calling me that”
changbin laughs and disappears into his room.
han goes to his room and changes into his pyjamas and then lies down, staring at the ceiling again, replaying his day with you. he thinks about your voice, your laugh, you having dinner next to him like you-
his phone buzzes.
he grabs it immediately and sees it’s a text from you.
you: hey :) i just wanted to say i had a lot of fun today with you, and also thanks for the food! (pls tell changbin as well!!)
he feels a smile forming on his face when he gets another text from you.
you: and next time i’m buying dinner! see you tomorrow, jisung :)
his heart skips.
he reads them again. then one more time. his fingers hover over the screen before he types back something simple, something safe.
han: i had a lot of fun too, and i’m glad you stayed with us. see you tomorrow!
he sets the phone down against his chest, smiling to himself alone in his room.
he thinks about a maybe.
a possible maybe.
and before he realises, he falls asleep thinking of you, feeling lighter than he has in a long time.
a/n: part 2 is here!! and we can see some people already falling but also, a storm coming... thank you for your love my darlings see you in the next partttt 😇
likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated 🌟
if you want me to add you to a taglist for the next parts let me know in the comments!!
