call me, beep me, if you wanna reach me | hwang hyunjin oneshot
— summary: Caught between practicality and feeling, Y/N and Hyunjin must decide if what they’ve built is just a fleeting connection of desire in each other’s beds, or the beginning of something worth crossing distances for.
OR, Hyunjin is an international student from South Korea who’s just so cute, and Y/N is smitten with him.
— pairing: hwang hyunjin x fem!reader
— genre: internationalstudent!hyunjin, strangers-to-fuckbuddies-to-lovers au
— warnings/other: ! MDNI ! cursing, alcohol consumption (y/n gets drunk, woo), bestfriend!felix, lots of bickering between y/n and felix, humor, slight angst, mutual pinning (they are both idiots), hints of jealously, references to snapchat, setting takes place at uni, switch!hyunjin, sexual tension, smut consisting of: making-out, oral (m. receiving), f!masturbation, phone sex, lots of dirty talk, y/n is on top, unprotected sex, drunk sex, choking… there are like 3 smut scenes oop
— wc: 13.9k+
— a/n: this is something i’ve had in my drafts for awhile now and i finally got around to finishing it. i’ve been out of undergrad for 4 years now (jumpscare), so this is me, in a way, reliving the experience w/ a lil twist. enjoy!
"Hi," Y/N smiled softly, awkwardly, shyly. Her cheeks were tinted red from slight embarrassment from abruptly stopping the cute guy and his friend halfway up the stairs to the business building. The sun was blinding her vision so she had to place her hand on her forehead to get a better look at his reaction, praying it would not be a bad one.
"I'm uh—do you have snapchat, by any chance?"
She cringed once those words came out of her mouth, and cringed even more when noticing the blank look on the guys face. Why the hell did she ask for his Snapchat instead of his number?
The friend snickered loudly, pushing his sun glasses up his nose with a teasing smirk on his lips. The guy, however, almost looked as if he was in a slight trance, eyes big and lips parted. God, she thought to herself, he is so beautiful.
A few more seconds went by and Y/N finally came to the conclusion that she should just leave because one, cute guy was still not saying a word and two, the friend was still snickering like this was the funniest thing he’s ever seen. He even looked like he was about to bring his phone out to take a picture of her, probably to use as a meme. Yeah, she just needs to get the fuck out of here.
"Sorry for bothering you two. Have a nice day." Y/N rushed out, quickly turning on her heel to get away from the most embarrassing situation she has ever been in. She was going to kill Felix. Absolutely murder him.
"Snapchat?" A soft voice suddenly spoke behind her. Y/N stopped immediately, jerking her head around to see that cute guy had taken a few steps after her, his hair blowing slightly on his forehead from the headband holding it back, his eyebrows furrowing, almost as if he was in deep thought.
“Yes, I have!” He let out, fumbling with his phone in his hands, “I have the application, but don’t know how it really works.”
She smiled softly at this, taking a step towards him and gently grabbing his iPhone from his hands. "It's okay. I will show you how to add people," She took her phone out of her shorts pocket, opening the app herself to get ready to scan his ID. She had to prevent herself from squealing out loud from how cute his bitmoji was—a bun in his hair with a bunny onesie on.
"So I just hold the screen down and put the camera over your bitmoji, and then you just accept me as a friend." She spoke a little slower this time, giving him a sheepish grin. His eyes widened as he let out a long, "ahhh," accepting the request.
"Thank you!" He grinned, eyes crinkling, cheeks slightly rosy. Her heart almost burst right then.
"Yeah," She shyly smiled in return, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "My name is Y/N, by the way."
"My name is Hyunjin."
"Nice to meet you, Hyunjin," She replied, and he responded with a happy nod. The friend snickered again, suddenly patting him on the shoulder.
Y/N heard them conversing and saw the friend nod his head over towards the business building. Hyunjin nodded quickly, glancing at Y/N once more.
"I go to class now. Thank you for the snapchat. I will talk to you soon. Have a nice day!" He exclaimed, bowing slightly. He adjusted the Versace bag on his shoulder, turning around with his friend to walk towards the building.
Y/N let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, her heart beating ridiculously fast at the encounter she just had. In the distance, she could hear Felix laughing very loudly, turning around to see that he had came out of his crouched position behind the bushes.
"And this was Y/N’s pathetic attempt of getting an international student's snapchat on the famous stairs of the business building.” Felix laughed, his phone covering his face as he walked closer towards her.
"Felix!" Y/N shouted, quickly grabbing his phone from his hands and ending the interaction he thought was a great idea to record, "I hate you. Delete this shit. And stop making fun of me. You made me do this!"
"Fuck," Felix whined out as she smacked him in the back of the head, "I hate when you do that. Also, I did not make you do anything. I just gave you a little shove and off you went."
Y/N scoffed, "Oh, yeah. You patronized me and said I was all talk. Of course that will make me do it! It's your doing."
Y/N walked past him, making sure to intentionally shove his shoulder as she went by, grabbing her bag that was next to the bushes and slinging it over her shoulder. Felix rolled his eyes, locking his phone and shoving it in his pocket before grabbing his own bag before jogging up to catch up with Y/N who was currently speed walking down the sidewalk. "Anyway, let's just put this all aside and focus on what's more important here. You got what you wanted! What's the next step? Should we target another poor man that peaks your interest and do a replay?"
"Oh, shut up. That's offensive, one, and two, this was literally my first and probably last time doing this. He probably won't even snapchat me." Y/N checked her phone as they kept walking, eyes widening slightly at the snapchat notification displayed on her lock screen.
Hyunjin🌹 is typing...
"Well, he's been typing for two minutes now without sending a text. Sad. On to the next!" Felix cheered teasingly, fist bumping the air in an onwards motion. Y/N shoved him slightly, mumbling another shut up and shaking her head as she kept staring at her lock screen, anxiously waiting for the next notification to pop up.
"You know, the more you stare the longer it will take for him to reply. It's scientifically proven."
"Says who?" She scoffed, deciding to just place her phone back in her shorts pocket and not think about it too much. This was all stupid, anyways. She should have never embarrassed herself in the first place.
"Me," He smirked, “On the real, though, if he doesn't reply by the time our class is over, let's do this again. It's very amusing and gives me an excuse not to study for my physics exam coming up."
"I think if he doesn't reply by the time our class ends it's your turn to embarrass yourself. I'd love to record it and send it to your mom. She'd love that this is how you're spending your senior year."
"Don't patronize me or I might just." He winked, opening the double doors to the life sciences building. They both walked inside, sighing in relief at the instant coolness in the building. It was always so humid here, especially at this time of year. It was something the two still couldn't get used to.
"How many more times are you going to tell me to shut up today?" Felix asked as Y/N muttered another shut up as they made their way down the hallway to lecture hall.
"As many times you give me a reason to."
"Touché."
Making their way into their last biology lecture of the day, Y/N sat down in the seat with a huff, slinging her bag on the floor in front of her as she spread her legs a little on the seat. She hated herself for forgetting a water bottle today. It felt like it was ten times hotter than it was yesterday.
"Ew, nasty bitch," Felix spoke as he also slumped down into his seat beside her. "Close those legs. You look like a hooker."
Y/N slapped him on the back of the head (again), taking his water bottle from his hands and taking a long sip. "I have thick thighs and it's hot. My thighs are chafing. Leave me alone."
Felix mumbled a soft ouch, deciding to just stop offending his best friend in hopes of not getting abused again. He's been hit too much today, and it's only the afternoon. He grumbled a few curse words to himself, jerking his water bottle back from her hands and chugging the rest of it.
As Felix leaned down to retrieve his textbook and a couple highlighters, Y/N discreetly took another look at her phone, feeling a wave of disappointment as she still didn't have a notification from cute guy—well, Hyunjin. The thought made her slightly upset considering the fact that he was the most gorgeous man she had ever seen, but she shook that thought off and decided to not let it bother her. It was just one silly interaction that obviously meant nothing.
"Ten bucks he replied." Felix spoke suddenly, flipping his microbiology textbook to open to chapter three. "Nope," Y/N replied, holding her hand out in front of his face with a grin, "you owe me ten bucks."
"Nah, I'll just buy dinner tonight instead. Was going to order takeout anyway." He shoved her outstretched hand away from his face. "Japanese good?"
"Yep." She replied, stuffing her phone into her bag with a sigh, desperately trying to not focus on Hyunjin and choosing instead to take out her books and focus on things way more important. Obviously.
Pulling her hair up into a claw clip as the professor began talking, Y/N let out another sigh, opening her textbook to chapter three and getting ready to highlight her way through lecture. It was the only way she could study without over cramming. "That girl over there is kind of cute," Felix suddenly whispered, jerking his head towards his right. She peaked over, seeing a girl with sunglasses on her head holding her hair back. She raised her eyebrow.
"Go ask for her number then."
"Nah. Don't want to embarrass myself like you did. Will ruin my chances 100%."
Y/N elbowed him in the side, causing him to let out a quiet sound of pain. "I hate you."
“Likewise."
——>
"I seriously can't believe you've done this."
Felix was currently shoving half of a piece of sushi and bits and pieces of steak and rice down his throat, not bothering to look up. "Done what?" He asked, pieces of food falling out of his mouth. Y/N cringed.
"You took my shrimp sauce, idiot." She replied, stabbing her shrimp roughly with the fork in her hand, glaring at a happy Felix who had poured enough shrimp sauce on his food to the point where it looked like he was eating soup. "Disgusting." She mumbled out.
"I didn't steal your shrimp sauce. I asked for two extras, so this," He pointed his half eaten sushi roll at the now empty containers of sauce on the table, "is mine. Ask for extra next time if you're going to whine about it."
Y/N scoffed, dipping her shrimp in some soy sauce before taking a bite. "They only gave you one extra and you so willingly took my shrimp sauce that came with my meal, so I have every right to whine about it. Now I'm stuck with just soy sauce because of you."
"Don't disrespect soy sauce like that." He spoke, continuing to shove his mouth full of food.
"Don't talk with your mouth full. It's disgusting."
"You're disgusting," Felix finished his sushi roll, picking up the to-go box full of food and leaning back on the sofa. "You didn't even say thank you for the food I bought you. That's what makes you disgusting, and rude, and annoying, and—I need some hot sauce."
Felix put his food back on the table in front of them, jogging to the fridge. Y/N rolled her eyes, deciding to just stop arguing about her stolen shrimp sauce and focus on eating. "I don't need to say thank you, you know it's always appreciated." She said as Felix sat back down on the couch, opening the bottle and adding some sauce to his plate. He hummed in response, mixing around his food with his spoon before settling back into his position.
"The spice is immaculate," He moaned happily, “Next time we just need to get some Korean food. This is making me want some Tteok-bokki."
"We should just go buy some ingredients and make some ourselves. Don't you have your mom's recipe from that cookbook she made you before you left for university?"
"Yes, but I'm too lazy to make my own. Tomorrow night we're getting Korean food. Also, don't mention that ever again. I still hear her nagging voice in the back of my head." He visibly shivered, continuing to scarf down the food in front of him. Y/N laughed lightly, taking a bite of her food when a phone notification caught her attention.
Hyunjin🌹 is typing...
Y/N locked her phone immediately, knowing that this would just be another episode of cute guy typing a message that he would never send. Y/N had decided that he was way out of her league—he looked like he belonged on the cover of Vogue while she looked like the scuff on the bottom of her shoe.
Another snapchat notification popped up as she took another bite of her food, eyes widening slightly at the new notification displayed on her lock screen.
Snapchat from Hyunjin🌹
"Well shit,” She whispered to herself.
"Well shit indeed!" Felix yelled from beside her, causing her to jump from the sudden noise. "Why the hell did you yell so loud in my ear?!" Y/N yelled back, grabbing her ear and leaning away from a grinning Felix.
"Sorry," He smiled sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders as if to say I'm not really sorry. "Are you going to reply or am I going to have to do that for you?"
Y/N groaned in annoyance, "I'm not replying right now. He just sent a text, it's going to make me look desperate."
"Well you are desperate," He stuffed his face full of food once again, taking a long sip of Modelo before placing it back on the table. Y/N scoffed. "And honestly, if you don't reply now, he will probably take long to reply again, and then I'll have to listen to you whining about how he isn't interested, and all offense, but I simply don't have time for that. So I suggest you just take my advice since obviously I know how guys work, especially Koreans—"
"Will you just shut up for once?" Y/N interrupted him, taking a sip of the water bottle in front of her and leaning back with a sigh. "How are you so sure, anyway?"
"Trust me, I know."
She stared at him, he stared back. An episode from season one of Grey's Anatomy was blaring in the background from the TV. Felix slowly began to put another bite of his food into his mouth, never breaking eye contact, and Y/N rolled her eyes slightly before following simultaneously, adverting her attention back to her food.
"Ha! You blinked, you lost. Now do as I say and give me your phone right now."
"I am not giving you my phone!"
"Fine! You're being stupid. Quite frankly it's pissing me off. Don't complain about how boys don't show you attention and how you wished you could get a boyfriend and then not do anything about it." Felix shrugged his shoulders, leaning back into the couch to focus his attention back on the episode (and food) in front of him.
Y/N groaned quietly, pouting slightly as she glanced at her phone on her lap. She knew Felix was right and hated when he was. What exactly is the big deal, anyway? It's just one snapchat. Maybe cute guy just wants to make friends and can just start hanging out with her and Felix. It's not like it would lead to anything romantic anyway. Right?
"Fine." She sighed in defeat, unlocking her phone and going straight to the snapchat app, not wasting any time in clicking on his name. She could just feel his sly grin behind her.
Hyunjin🌹: Hi~
Felix snickered loudly, "All these hours and he just says hi. Classic move."
Y/N punched him in the shoulder as he let out a yelp, biting her lip lightly as she began typing back. Immediately, his bitmoji popped up in the corner, and she smiled a little at how eager he was to see she was finally replying.
y/n😇: hi :)
"This is making me want to barf."
"Felix, will you please shut up?" Y/N snapped.
"I will if you give me the answers to the micro homework. I have to write a lab report for physics tonight that I have not started, so any help would be greatly appreciated."
"Fine, yeah. I'll email you the answers," She waved him off, grabbing her togo box of food and her water before standing up. He grinned happily, downing his beer in a couple gulps before propping his feet up on the table.
“I’m going to finish my bio-chem homework. Don’t follow me. And don’t be loud.”
"I better get on my shit too before it's due at midnight," He mumbled with a mouthful of food, “G'night, love you!"
"Love you too, pig." She blew him a kiss, walking into her room in their shared apartment and closing the door. Sighing, she plopped herself down at her desk, opening her phone again to the snapchat app.
Hyunjin🌹: Sorry for my late reply. I was in class and the teacher saw me on phone😱
Y/N giggled because cute guy is just so cute. Only three texts in and she's already feeling weird inside. How embarrassing.
y/n😇: hahaha, no problem! i was pretty busy today anyway. & oh no, did they call u out?
Hyunjin🌹: No. I‘m just too handsome
"You're definitely not wrong there." She spoke aloud to herself, wondering if she should use this opportunity to flirt.
She did.
y/n😇: yes you are. your bitmoji is a tad bit cuter though
Hyunjin🌹: Bunny makes me cute. But I’m not, I’m handsome only 😎
y/n😇: a handsome, cute bunny 🍆
And shit, Y/N definitely did not mean to send the eggplant emoji. How convenient it was that the winking emoji just so happened to be right beside the eggplant. "Shit,” She whispered to herself, seeing that Hyunjin’s bitmoji was just sitting in the corner, probably in shock that she basically sent a dick reference in their first ever conversation.
She quickly locked her phone and threw it on the bed beside her, deciding it wouldn't even be worth it to try and cover it up, not wanting to confuse him with a bombard of texts. Why is she such an embarrassment to society?
"Lix!" She yelled, to which she immediately heard a response. "Come here! Now! We have an emergency!"
Within seconds, Felix was busting open the bedroom door, his cheeks full of food as he aggressively chewed in order to get all his food down without choking, "What? What is it? Don’t tell me it’s another cockroach."
"It's..." Y/N trailed off, knowing how stupid she was going to sound even saying it, "I accidentally sent Hyunjin an eggplant emoji and I'm lowkey freaking out because I don't want him to think I'm some horny girl who wants his dick.”
Felix blinked.
"But... you are?" He questioned in confusion, resulting in one of Y/N’s plushies to hit him in his face.
"I am not!"
"Yes, honey, you most definitely are," Felix replied, kicking the plushie that hit him in the face across the room. He watched the cat roll away in disgust. He was always getting abused by these things. "Literally the first thing you told me when you saw him was that you wanted to—and I quote—ride his dick until he begs you to cum."
Y/N groaned, rolling over to squish her face into her pillows so that he couldn't see her slightly embarrassed state. She let out a sound of annoyance before sitting up, facing a smirking Felix who has now made his way to sitting on the edge of the bed. "Okay, I'm horny. It's a natural biological response for men and women to feel this way. What is your point?"
"What is your point?" He shot back, “Obviously, you have nothing to lose. He's either going to take the eggplant as in you want his dick, or he won't take it any way at all. He probably doesn't understand the reference, anyway. Just look at the damn phone and stop being stupid."
"I can't, you do it."
"Seriously?" He asked, surprise written on his face.
"Yes, now hurry up before I change my mind."
Felix wasted no time with grabbing her phone, seeing a notification from Hyunjin on her lock screen, immediately opening it.
He suddenly snorted loudly, catching Y/N’s attention. "What? Is it bad? What's happening?"
"Ah, just as I suspected," He chuckled, tossing the phone on the bed so that the opened message was on display in front of her. Y/N glanced down, sighing in relief.
Hyunjin🌹: ?
"Well," Felix started, getting up off of the bed and slowly backing away, "I am now leaving because I am no longer needed nor interested. Don't forget to send me the homework!"
Y/N rolled her eyes, throwing another plushie and hitting Felix in the back as he ran out of the room, closing the door behind him. "Asshole," She mumbled to herself before picking her phone up, trying to figure out what the fuck to say back.
y/n😇: my hand slipped, sorry
After sending the text and just staring at his bitmoji that was now just sitting there, Y/N quickly began typing another sentence to send, not wanting to come off short or uninterested, because she most definitely was.
y/n😇: what are you doing tomorrow?
He immediately started typing, and she smiled a little, mentally patting herself on the back for keeping good conversation.
Hyunjin🌹: I have class middle of the morning. Then I am off the rest of the day
Hyunjin🌹: What about you?
y/n😇: i also have class mid-morning, then i am free the rest of the day!
Hyunjin🌹: Do you want to meet for lunch?
Hyunjin🌹: Would you like to meet for lunch, I mean
Y/N smiled to herself, biting her lip slightly, letting out a little squeal of happiness. She felt so stupid for feeling like this just because cute guy asked her to get lunch with him, but she just couldn’t help it. He quite literally made her feel like she was in middle school again, and she didn’t mind it one bit.
y/n😇: yeah, i'd love to! :)
——>
"You have been sitting here moving your leg up and down since we've sat down. You need to chill the fuck out."
Y/N shot a glare at Felix, picking up her drink he got her after class and taking a long sip, savoring the taste of the iced coffee, but only for a second. "I am chill. I'm just giddy because I've had too much caffeine today."
"Lies," He snorted, pushing his ray bans up his nose with two of his fingers before taking a bite of his sandwich, “Just admit you're nervous. There's nothing wrong with that."
"I'm not nervous. Just...giddy."
"You're giddy because you're nervous."
"You're ugly."
"What the hell?"
"Fine, I'm nervous," She sighed, sipping more of her drink and glancing at her phone. Only a few more minutes before Hyunjin would text her letting her know he was out of class and she would make her way over to the courtyard to meet him. The thought made her want to throw up a little. Or a lot.
"I don't know why. It's not like it's an actual date or anything. He just asked to get lunch. It's like what we're doing right now. Just two best friends sitting down sipping a nice, cold coffee together while we enjoy the sun." Felix sighed happily, glancing at the sun that was currently covering their faces and bringing sweat more towards the surface on their skin.
"Yeah, that's definitely not the same thing."
Before Felix could reply, Y/N had already found herself letting out a little squeal once she checked her phone, flopping it on the table in front of them. It landed with a loud clash. “He’s out of class!” She shouted out in a whisper, fanning herself with her hands, “Fuck, it’s so hot out here. I think I’m going to pass out.”
Felix looked at her, an exasperated look on his face, eyes narrowing in on his best friend’s god-awful appearance. He let out a sigh of annoyance, “You are seriously going to give me a headache. Stop acting like a lunatic. You’re making people look over here.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry. Help me, how do I look? Do I look okay?”
Felix took note of how her hair was starting to frizz up, a couple curls sticking out from the claw clip she had in. Her eyes were wide and frantic, sweat slowly dripping down her forehead and causing her curls to stick to her face. She really did look like she was about to pass out. “Yeah, you look hot.” He decided to reply, knowing it wasn’t necessarily a lie.
She let out a long sigh at his response, pulling her tank top down a bit to display her cleavage a little bit more because why the fuck not, standing up to smooth out her matching leggings. Felix eyed her, and Y/N could just feel him judging her.
“What now?” She snapped, and he let out a scoff.
“You definitely are trying to suck this man’s dick today.”
Y/N looked at him, slightly offended, “Excuse me?”
Felix grinned, swirling his iced coffee in his hands obnoxiously loud, “You heard me correctly. Why else would you wear that? Your ass is the size of Juniper in those leggings and your tits are about to spill out of the damn top.”
Y/N glared at him, picking up her bag from the empty chair beside them and throwing it over her shoulder. She didn’t say anything back, partially because he might have been right, but also because he was annoying. As always.
“Have fun! Use protection!” He shouted out once she started walking away. She flicked him off from behind before walking down the stairs, fighting the urge to roll her eyes.
So what if she wanted to suck his dick? That doesn’t mean she’s going to come off desperate and pull his pants down in the middle of the courtyard. She isn’t that down bad. A girl’s got some self-restraint. He probably didn’t even want her the same way anyway, so really, she’s just happy that he wants to even meet up with her. Y/N has no issue with him just wanting to become her friend, even if he looks so effortlessly beautiful and so tall and so—
Her thoughts and steps came to an abrupt pause once she laid eyes on him. He was sitting on one of the many benches, body slumped back, bag sitting next to him, legs spread apart. Normally man-spreading gives her the ick, but she felt her face heat up even more than it already was when seeing him do it. He looked relaxed, just scrolling through his phone like he had nothing else to do, and Y/N had to close her eyes for a second in attempts to calm herself down before walking towards him.
She felt her pulse spike when she opened them again, seeing that he was now starring at her. He grinned, waving at her with his free hand, and Y/N was forced to move her legs again, really focusing on not tripping or doing anything super embarrassing. As she got closer, he stood up, slinging the same Versace bag over his shoulder and shoving his phone into his back pocket.
“Hi, Y/N,” He grinned once she stood in front of him, accent making her immediately want to fall to her knees, “Did I say right? Y/N?”
God, she’s such a simp already. “Hi, Hyunjin. And yes, you did.” She replied, eyes quickly scanning him from head-to-toe.
He was wearing a pair of sweat shorts and a cut-out tee, a pair of Versace sunglasses sitting atop his head to hold his hair back. His nails were painted black, a little chipped, fingers nice and long, a couple of rings shining from the sun hitting them. His arms were slightly flexed from holding his bag up, muscles seeming to hypnotize her, and fuck, how can someone even be this attractive?
The flush on her cheeks grew once she glanced back towards his face, the friendly grin replaced with something a little more sinister, a little more teasing. She felt her armpits start to sweat.
“How are you?” He decided to ask, the teasing glint in his eyes not faltering, lips curled into a smirk.
“I’m good. Doing great. How are you?” She replied before clearing her throat quietly, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. Why did he make her so nervous?
He let out a little hum, eyes briefly glancing down towards her thighs before looking up at her again, “I’m doing fine, thank you.”
The tension in the air was so thick and Y/N felt like she might pass out if he looked at her any longer. “How was class?” She blurted out, the sweat now slowly creeping down her back, neck hot with his gaze.
“Boring,” He chuckled, adjusting the bag on his shoulder lightly, “Class is always boring. Was thinking about this entire time.”
“Oh, really?” She breathed out, feeling like she was breathless all of a sudden. The heat pouring onto her skin was starting to feel suffocating, and at this point she didn’t know if she was dripping from the sweat or from him. “Me too. I’ve been looking forward to this all morning.”
“Good.” He mumbled out in response, a pleased look on his face. She gulped.
“So, uh, where do you want to eat?” She let out, dying to get out of this heat and sit down somewhere so she could actually think again.
He studied her for a moment, eyes glancing back downwards, and Y/N could feel her thighs clenching together. He let out another hum, “You come back to mine? I can make you ramen. My car is nearby, so not too much walking.”
Go back to his? Y/N could scream right now.
She took note of his relaxed stance, his plush lips still curled into that same expression, the same darkened glint in his eyes—and she suddenly felt cold, despite the blazing heat surrounding them. Y/N knew where this was going. And with the way he was currently looking at her, she simply couldn’t refuse—not when he’s placing everything she wants on a silver platter right in front of her.
She just simply couldn’t refuse. Which is why she now found herself not even thirty minutes later kneeling in between his thighs, mouth wrapped around his cock, like this exactly where she belongs.
“Fuck,” Hyunjin moaned out, hands gripping the back of her head so tight, eyes trained on the way her mouth was quite literally sucking him in.
He was big, just as she thought he would be, so it was no surprise when she couldn’t fit all of him into her mouth. She used one of her hands to jerk him off at the same time, head going up and down so fast, spit messily dripping out of her mouth and down onto the couch he was currently sat on.
She suddenly pulled her mouth away from him, right hand continuing to jerk him off. “Why… why stop?” He whined out, hips thrusting forward, the tip of his dick grazing her lips.
She didn’t reply, choosing instead to lean her lips down, licking a long stripe up and down his balls. His eyes widened, hips jerking forward, cursing out loud in Korean. Y/N found herself rubbing her thighs together at the sound, repeating the same motion over and over again before moving back up, tongue sliding up to the tip of his dick. She let it linger there for a moment.
“Wanna fuck my face?”
Hyunjin blinked. And then he blinked again. Y/N took note of how flushed his cheeks were, how dark his eyes were, how messy his hair was—and she wondered for a second if he even knew what she was asking. But before she could say anything else, his hands were gripping her hair even harder than before, slamming her face back down towards his dick.
Her mouth opened immediately, the tip of his dick hitting the back of her throat repeatedly. She gagged around his cock, spit pouring out, eyes watering from the constant stimulation. He glanced down, hooded eyes locked on the way she was taking his cock, hands forcefully holding her head in place while he fucked her mouth. It was lewd, messy, and everything in between.
Hyunjin let out a throaty groan when seeing the many tears streaming down her face, head falling backwards towards the couch. Y/N let out a choked moan in response, hands creeping up to massage his balls, and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. He cursed out loud again, hips coming to a sudden halt, hands pushing her face down to keep her in place, and he came with a loud whine, mouth agape as his whole body shivered.
She kept sucking him off, working him through his orgasm as she collected every last bit of him. He whined again, hips twitching, and she pulled off of him with a pop before swallowing.
He laid there for a second to catch his breath. Y/N’s eyes zeroed in on the way his dick was still sitting there, slightly soft and leaking, begging for her to put it back into her mouth. He quite literally had the prettiest dick she’s ever seen. But really, she isn’t surprised—everything about him was pretty.
She glanced up at his face to see that he was already starring at her, mouth formed into a fucked-out smirk, eyes glossy and dark. He said something in Korean that Y/N couldn’t understand before letting out a soft laugh, hand rubbing down his face briefly.
“I can’t… English,” He laughed again, and Y/N giggled in response, hands softly coming up to rest on his thighs. He let out a content sigh, “Sorry. My English is not… very good. Can’t think now.”
“It’s okay,” She smiled back, finding him to be the most precious thing she has ever seen. She just wants to kiss him. And kiss him again. And then kiss him some more.
Hyunjin looked embarrassed, cheeks flushed, hair slightly sticking to his forehead. The flush deepened when she started to softly rub his thighs, and he finally worked up the courage to look at her again.
“Come here,” He mumbled out, voice a little raspy, hand gently laying against her own. She smiled a little, moving her body to sit flush against his thighs, and he placed his hands on her hips, biting his lip as he glanced downwards.
“I’ll make you feel good. And then I’ll make you ramen. Okay?” He asked, hands creeping down in between her thighs.
“Okay.” She smiled back.
——>
“So you’re telling me that you’ve been fucking this guy for three months now and you’re scared to invite him to my party tonight because it might give off the wrong impression?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re also scared that if you bring him, other girls will hit on him and you’ll be forced to watch and not be able to do anything about it?”
“Yes.”
Felix blinked, “Do you realize how contraindicating that sounds?”
“Yes,” Y/N sighed, slumping back into their couch in their shared living room. She curled her legs up towards her body, forehead coming down to lay on her knees. Her head was starting to hurt. “Yes, I know. I don’t know what to do. I feel sick.”
Y/N was currently in the middle of, yet again, another crisis—another crisis that involves Hyunjin. Sweet, handsome, and precious Hyunjin.
Y/N had one rule for herself—no catching feelings. It was a simple rule, an easy rule, a piece of cake. Y/N has fucked around with guys before, so this wasn’t anything new to her. But Hyunjin was just different, and he made her feel things she’s never felt before with anyone, which now puts her in a pretty bad predicament.
She thought it was going to be just another hook-up. He’d get his fair share and she’d get hers, and then they would never speak to each other again unless it was to politely greet each other in passing on campus. Instead, it turned into more days of grabbing food on campus and walking to classes together, more evenings of meaningful conversation and slight touches, and more nights tangled in each others sheets. His smile, his laugh, the way his fingers twitch just slightly when they’re next to each other, the way his cheeks get flushed so quickly when he’s speaking and suddenly can’t form words—it all makes her feel fuzzy inside, and she was starting to go insane.
So yeah, this is her sixth crisis over him in the span of three months. And she feels like she might explode.
Y/N could feel him burning holes into the side of her head, “Have you ever thought of, I don’t know, actually communicating with him about your confused feelings?”
“No.” She immediately mumbled back, body slumping more into the couch. Felix sighed.
“And why not? For all you know, Hyunjin might feel the same. And considering the way he acts around you, I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Y/N lifted her head up with a groan, hands coming up to cover her face instead, “He doesn’t. I know he doesn’t. And I don’t even know what I feel.”
“I think you do. You’re just being dramatic, just like him,” Felix replied with an eye roll, shifting a little on the couch, “Why do you think he doesn’t feel the same way?”
“We don’t even text like normal people. We still talk solely on Snapchat like we’re in middle school. He even calls me off Snapchat… who calls someone off Snapchat? That just screams FWB!”
“Are you serious?” Felix scoffed in reply, and Y/N glanced up at the ceiling, not wanting to look at his face, “First of all, you’re the one who asked for his Snapchat when you so desperately chased him up those stairs. And you haven’t even asked for his number either. He probably thinks that’s what you communicate mostly on. Don’t put this all on him.”
Before Y/N could let out a snarky reply, Felix interrupted her, “—and that’s not even a good enough excuse as to why he doesn’t feel the same. The man texts you every single day, calls you every night when you’re not fucking him in his bed, and brings you Starbucks to the library in between classes. If he just wanted to fuck you, do you really think he would go through all this effort to just be around you? Not to mention, you’re just as down bad, because I definitely caught you on Duo Lingo in the library the other week. Why else would you suddenly want to learn Korean? And don’t say it’s because of me, because we both know that’s full of shit.”
Y/N was quiet, glancing down at her hands, softly picking at her nails—a habit she tends to do when she’s feeling upset. She decided to ignore his last comment, a little embarrassed at the fact that he saw her practicing Korean, but so what? Felix let out another sigh, “Look, I’m not trying to make you feel bad or whatever. I just think you’re being stupid about this whole situation. You’re my best friend and I don’t like seeing you like this. Hyunjin’s a good guy. I think you should just talk to him, is all. You know I can help too if you’re worried about the language barrier, but I think you both get along just fine.”
As if the universe just knew, Y/N’s phone suddenly vibrated, a notification popping up on her screen that seemed all too familiar.
Snapchat from Hyunjin🌹
She tried to ignore the way her heart jumped in her chest, feeling so dumb for even feeling like this over a stupid Snapchat notification. The notification seemed like it was taunting her, testing her. She felt Felix’s stare, felt the pressure building in her chest, and opened the app.
Hyunjin🌹: What are you doing tonight?
It was a question she’s received many times before that always ended up with either his face or his dick between her legs. She starred at it for a moment, a bubbling feeling rising in her chest. His bitmoji was peaking in the corner, just sitting there, waiting. She felt sick.
y/n😇: going to felix’s frat’s party
Her response was short. Normally she would reply with a little more enthusiasm, a little more context, but she couldn’t bring herself to. She watched as his bitmoji stayed in the corner for a minute—saw how it kept switching back to writing to just peaking a few times before he finally replied.
Hyunjin🌹: Oh~
Hyunjin🌹: I hope you have good time!
Y/N bit her lip slightly, starring at his messages for a second before deciding to swipe out of the chat. She knows she’s being irrational and slightly rude, but honestly, it’s for the better. She just needs to think over some things and have some space from Hyunjin, no matter how much her heart and her body might not want to.
Her phone vibrated again with another notification as soon as she placed it down on her thighs.
Hyunjin🌹: Don’t drink and drive please. If you need ride home, I can come get you
Hyunjin🌹: I will keep phone on just in case you need me
Hyunjin🌹: Have a good time ❤️
“Soooo,” Felix sang out, “What’s the verdict?”
Y/N didn’t reply right away, eyes zeroed in on the little red heart at the end of his text. It’s the first time he’s sent her one in the three constant months of them talking. She thought for a second that maybe he just sent it by accident just as she did with the eggplant emoji awhile back, but when he never started typing again, bitmoji still peaking in the corner like he was waiting on her to reply, she panicked, and slid out of the chat once again.
Why is she so worked up over it? It was a simple emoji—people use it all the time out of context. And really, Hyunjin is just a sucker for cute things and just being cute. He’s sent her kissy faces before, has sent her cute little gifs of cats blowing her kisses, so why is a simple heart causing her to feel like she’s going crazy? It’s just Hyunjin.
And that seems to be exactly the problem.
“I think I need some space.” She blurted out. Felix eyed her for a minute, and she could tell that he was slightly judging her again, but she didn’t care.
“Alright,” He finally let out, standing up from the couch, stretching his back a bit before letting out an overdramatic groan, “Suit yourself. We’re leaving in an hour, so if you’re riding with me, you better go get dressed. We need to stop by the liquor store on the way.”
Y/N nodded in reply, eyes still locked on the phone in front of her. Hyunjin never started typing again. She hated that she felt disappointed.
Felix started walking away, hand on the doorknob to his room, before he turned around. “Hey,” He spoke out. Y/N looked up. “Don’t stress so much about it. Just have a good time tonight, clear your head, and we’ll revisit this conversation tomorrow. I just don’t want you to wait too long. It’s not fair to you or him.”
She hated the fact that he was right. He always was. “Yeah,” She replied, hesitantly, “I know.”
——>
Y/N has been drunk a handful of times.
College parties were never her cup of tea. Felix was in a fraternity, (a fraternity for pre-med majors, which seemed a little contradictory to her, because weren’t medical professionals supposed to not encourage bad habits?), so all of the college parties she’s been to were through his frat—Phi Delta Epsilon.
Phi Delta Epsilon always hosts a big party at the end of every semester. Not to say that it was the only parties they hosted, but these in particular were a big deal. It was always labeled as the biggest fraternity event on campus, where hundreds of college students came to get drunk and hook-up in bathrooms and everything in between. Y/N had always heard of these specific parties, always found herself taking care of a very drunk Felix who always stumbled home around 3am, (she always wondered how he got home. He was always completely obliterated), but she never actually attended one—not one of these. Well, not until tonight, of course.
Y/N had been drunk a handful of times, but this time might be the icing on the cake.
“Holy shit,” Jisung, one of Felix’s frat brothers, laughed out in disbelief, once Y/N slammed down another shot of Tequila. She just completely demolished a whole singular row of shots, and she quite literally felt like she might throw up. “Damn, Y/N. I’ve never seen you drink like this. Who broke your heart?”
Y/N’s mind immediately drifted to Hyunjin, and she wanted to slap herself in the face when realizing that this was her tenth time thinking of him tonight. And she’s only been here for two hours.
“Ji, why did you dare her to do that? You know she can’t handle her liquor.” Another voice piped up, a deep voice that she’s heard plenty of times before.
“I didn’t think she would actually take all five!” He replied back defensively, “I’m honestly shocked. I don’t even think I could do that.”
“Of course you can’t. You’re a lightweight, and you only drink beer. One shot would knock you out.” Another voice piped up, a voice belonging to Changbin, another member of the frat. Y/N always liked them—they came over sometimes to hang out in between classes, and weren’t complete assholes like most of the other guys.
They began bickering again, and Y/N found herself swaying slightly, vision slightly blurry. She doesn’t know if it’s from the shots she just took or from the smoke that was starting to cloud up the room.
“Nah, Y/N has been wild tonight. Did you not see her making out with Minho earlier? Kate was pissed.” Jisung snickered, and Y/N felt like she really might throw up now.
Felix started walking over to her, steadying her with his arms, and Y/N felt like crying all of a sudden. “Fuck,” She groaned out, annoyed with herself, “I did make out with him, didn’t I? Why did I do that?”
Her words were a little slurred, and she felt on edge. Felix noticed, letting out a slightly annoyed sigh. “Let’s go find a bathroom.” He grumbled out before grabbing ahold of her hand to lead her to the nearest bathroom, which was thankfully only a couple steps away.
He knocked on the door, and once he didn’t hear a reply, started to open it, when Y/N stopped him. “Lixie, you don’t have to come in with—with me,” She mumbled out, feeling the bile slowly rising up in her throat, “I’m fine. I’ll feel better once I throw up.”
He rolled his eyes, not wanting to cause a fight, “Fine. I’m waiting outside the door.”
She nodded, opening the door and stumbling inside. It was much quieter now, the music sounding slightly muffled, and she felt like she could finally think again. But before she could take a second to just relax, she rushed towards the toilet, spilling out every single bit of those shots she just downed minutes prior.
The sting was awful, and she found herself sweating a little after dry heaving a couple times. Once she was finished, she flushed the toilet, leaning back against the wall behind her. Her eyes were watering, the room was slightly spinning, and she felt disgusting. But at least she could finally come back her senses again.
She took her phone out of her pocket, clumsily opening up the Snapchat app, clicking on Hyunjin’s name. She bit her lip, eyes trained on the blinking cursor in the front of her, before deciding to just scroll up. However, she wished that she didn’t, because one of the pictures he had sent her popped up, and she immediately clicked on it.
It was Hyunjin, shirtless, a white towel sitting low on his hips. The mirror was slightly foggy, his hair was wet and lying over his eyes, his body flexed to where every single muscle was popping out so perfectly, a teasing smirk on his face. He had sent her this only a few nights ago with a text that said, Waiting on you. He had fucked her so good that night—had her bent over his kitchen table while he fucked her so deep—hands so rough, voice so demanding. She found herself letting out a little whimper at the thought of it—at the thought of his hands and his voice and his dick and his everything—and she wasted no time in clicking on the video call option.
He answered almost immediately.
“Jagiya,” He mumbled out, voice sounding a little scratchy, like he had just woken up, “You okay?”
She didn’t reply. She couldn’t reply. His hair was softly falling over his eyes, his beautiful eyes… and she found herself mesmerized by him once again. He was so beautiful.
He asked the question once again, sitting up slightly in bed, the sound of his sheets rustling in the background. A soft glow was engulfing his room from his bedside lamp, the once sleepy expression now being replaced with a more worried one, and Y/N felt her lips start to quiver.
“I just threw up,” She whined out, feeling really embarrassed all of a sudden, “I just… I just threw up in the bathroom.”
He was quiet for a second, blinking a few times. “Oh,” He replied, a little confused, “Are you feeling better?”
“No,” She whined out again, aggressively wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand, attempting to get the god-awful taste of puke and Minho’s lips off, “I f-feel like shit. I just miss you. I want to be with you. I hate it here.”
Hyunjin rubbed his eyes a little, a soft smile forming on his lips. His beautiful, plush lips. Y/N found herself starring at them for a couple seconds. “Do you want me to come get you?” He asked, and Y/N frowned immediately.
“You didn’t… you didn’t say you missed me,” She whined out, letting out a little huff, “Why didn’t you say it back? Is it because I threw up?”
Hyunjin’s smile grew, a look of amusement on his face, “I miss you, Jagiya. Always do when you not with me.”
Y/N shivered at the tone of his voice, the sincerity of his words, and she found herself moving her phone down slightly to get her chest and thighs in view. “You miss me like this?” She asked, free hand trailing down to softly grab at her breasts. She was wearing a black dress that was way too short and way too tight, but it showed off her curves so nicely she couldn’t not wear it. And with the way Hyunjin’s breath just hitched, she knew that was true.
“Yeah,” He breathed out, voice dropping, “Of course. Like that.”
She moved the camera down a little further, opening her legs and pushing the dress up towards her hips. The air she felt in between in her legs made her shiver since she decided to not wear panties tonight, and she used her hand to slowly spread her lips apart, feeling like she was dripping onto the floor already.
“Fuck,” He let out a rough groan, along with a few more curses in Korean, and she heard the sheets rustling a little more. The sound made her more horny than she already was, so she slid her fingers upwards to softly rub small circles on her clit.
“Miss me… like this, too?” She whimpered out, legs jerking slightly at the feeling, and she heard Hyunjin mumble something else in Korean before she leaned her head back against the wall behind her, closing her eyes as she imagined that he was right in front of her. “I need you. I need you with me. I need your cock. I need it so bad, Hyunjin.”
Her fingers sped up, hips rocking in a perfect rhythm, a string of whimpers escaping her mouth, perfectly muffled by the loud chaos that was outside. “Jagiya,” He groaned out, voice forming goosebumps on her skin, “You want my cock? You cum for me first.”
She let out a moan, phone grip loosening just slightly, and Hyunjin kept going, “So desperate. Sitting in public touching yourself… touching yourself to me? Touching yourself for me? How does it feel? Feel better than me?”
“No,” She choked out, movement not faltering, “F-feels good, but not as good as yours. Just wanna cum, please.”
He let out a short laugh, voice lower than before, “You won’t. You not doing it right. Not how you like it.”
And she hated that he was right—hated how he seemed to know her body better than she did. She cried out, body begging for her release, and she slipped two fingers in, immediately curling them upwards in attempts to get that sweet spot, just as he always did.
“Not quite,” He tsked out, “Go back to your clit. Stay there. You will never cum from that.”
Y/N could cry from frustration, slipping her fingers back out and back onto her clit, hips immediately jerking at the feeling. She was so wet that he could easily just slip right in, the sound flowing through the entire bathroom. She said his name again, pleading.
“You look so filthy, sitting here rubbing your pretty pussy to the thought of me, for me. It’s only for me, right?” He muttered out in Korean, and Y/N moaned his name out again, feeling a knot forming in her stomach.
“It better only be for me. Your pussy belongs to me, and nobody else. Nobody will ever make you feel this good—will never make you feel so desperate for them that you resort to getting yourself off in the middle of a fucking party. You are mine, you understand that?” The words kept coming out in his native tongue, voice deep, dominating.
“Now cum.” He spat out in English, and Y/N’s body jolted forward, his name falling from her lips, a wave of pleasure hitting her all at once. She let out a choked moan, felt the wetness gushing down her thighs, dropping the phone that was in her hand.
Y/N sat there for a moment, head pounding just slightly, chest rapidly moving up and down. A few more seconds passed and she realized that he was still on the phone, so she quickly picked it back up, heart racing once she laid eyes on him. He looked fucked out, lips parted, eyes dark, and she felt her skin crawl.
“Send me address. I’m coming to get you.” He roughly spoke out, the call ending before she had a chance to reply.
A sudden knock on the door startled her, and she was suddenly hyper-aware of her position and what just happened. “Y/N!” Felix’s voice yelled out from the other side of the door, “You’ve been in there for a hot minute. You good?”
She didn’t reply, scrambling to stand up and get off the floor, feeling a little dizzy from standing up too fast. She had just pulled her dress back down when the door opened and Felix barged in.
He glanced at the phone that was hanging awkwardly in her hand, then at her legs that were pressed way too tightly together, and then at her face that looked guilty as fuck. He cocked an eyebrow, “I don’t want to know what just happened. But are you good? Can I trust you to be alone now, or do you want me to take you home real quick?”
Her phone vibrating in her hand caused her to jump, and she glanced at it once before looking back at him. “N-no, I’m good. I have a… ride.” She replied quickly, other hand still supporting her body on the edge of the sink.
He lips quirked, “Right.”
He reached into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a breath strip and handing it to her. Y/N felt her face heating up. “Might need this,” He stated, and Y/N grabbed it from him before putting it on her tongue.
“Who carries around breath strips?”
Felix rolled his eyes at her question, “Me, obviously. They come in handy when you’re trying to get laid and don’t want to worry about swallowing someone else’s gum. Stop being judgmental. I could’ve just let your breath knock his ass out.”
Y/N narrowed her eyes, really wanting to smack him upside the head. He was so annoying. “Well, text me if you need me. Otherwise,” Felix stated, walking back towards the door to open it, “I will leave you to it. Whatever that is.”
“Asshole,” She grumbled out, glaring at the door that he just walked out of. She quickly glanced back at her phone to see that Hyunjin had texted her again.
Hyunjin🌹: Still waiting on address…
It was embarrassing how fast her fingers moved to send him the address. She placed her phone down on the sink, quickly washing her hands and rinsing her mouth out once the breath strip dissolved before attempting to clean her thighs up the best she could. She felt sticky, fingers trembling slightly, room still spinning a little. She threw the toilet paper back in the toilet before flushing it, stumbling back out of the bathroom.
The crowd seemed to have grown ten times bigger than it was previously. She immediately found herself knocking into people, mumbling out a few sorry’s and excuse me’s as she tried to get past. How the fuck did Felix maneuver through all these people so quickly? And has it always been this hot in here?
A glance towards her right suddenly caught her attention. It was Hyunjin, standing near the front door, looking a little lost. His eyes quickly danced across the room a couple times before he started to take his phone out of the pocket of his black sweatpants. Y/N found herself letting out the widest grin, immediately feeling giddy at the sight of him, because it was Hyunjin, and he was here—here to pick her up! How lucky is she?
Letting out a dramatic, lovesick sigh, she started to, (well, attempted to), skip towards him in all her glory. However, her steps came to a sudden halt once another girl beat her to him, standing exactly where she was about to be.
The grin faded as quick as it came. She watched as the girl approached him so timidly, so softly, tucking a piece of her long, black hair behind her ear. Hyunjin looked up in surprise, phone in his hands now forgotten as he leaned his head down towards her. Her lips were moving, a flirtatious expression gracing her features, and she leaned in a little more once he smiled back.
The sight made her feel sick.
Y/N thought that he would shew her away, would politely decline her advances. But when she had placed her hand on his chest, letting it drag down ever so slowly as she whispered something else in his ear, she found herself seeing red—feet moving in front of her so steadily she almost forgot she was even drunk.
Her clumsily stumbling into the girl quickly reminded her of that fact, though.
Really, she didn’t mean to. Her plan was to approach them both, politely tell the girl to fuck off, and then lead Hyunjin outside so he could take her to his car so they could fuck and then spend the night together eating Taco Bell. But someone had abruptly bumped into her as she was approaching them, causing her to roughly stumble into the girl who was currently feeling up all over her man.
The girl let out a shriek in surprise, the both of them hitting the ground as quick they made contact. Y/N heard some laughter behind her, but was way too dizzy to turn around and see who it was.
“Ow,” She rubbed her head softly, eyes squeezed tight together, headache pounding. She felt her body suddenly being shoved to the side, and heard someone yelling at her in Korean. She could only assume the screeching voice was her.
Y/N could tell that the girl was actively cussing her out. She finally opened her eyes, about to interrupt her ranting, when she caught a whiff of cologne—a scent that immediately made her feel warm.
It was Hyunjin, crouching down beside her, eyes wide and full of concern. His hand was holding onto her arm, face leaned in towards her. His mouth was moving but Y/N couldn’t figure out what he was saying, eyes too focused on the fact that he was here and in front of her.
She smiled, placing her hand on his arm, pulling him more into her. He stumbled into her slightly before catching himself, and Y/N slid her hand up towards the back of his neck, lips leaning in to start peppering kisses on the side of his face. She pulled back briefly, eyes locked on the slight pout of his lips for a second before she leaned back in to kiss him again.
“Y/N,” He leaned back, “Not now.”
Embarrassment flooded through her, eyes stinging with tears from his rejection. He looked away from her and back towards the other girl, Y/N’s hand falling onto her thighs. He was talking to her, leaned in close, the girl glaring at Y/N like she wanted to claw her eyes out, and Y/N started to feel sick again.
She blinked back her tears before attempting to stand up and just leave them alone since he was apparently so interested in her, cursing at herself once she stumbled over her feet once again. A pair of warm hands steadied her before she could fall, that same scent wrapping around her, suffocating her.
“Get off of me,” She lightly shoved his hands off of her once she caught her balance again, “I’m fine. Just go… go have fun with her.”
Y/N’s voice was trembling slightly, chest hurting, and she was starting to get overwhelmed. Hyunjin was so quick to show interest in another girl, and really, why wouldn’t he? Especially when it’s someone who can speak his native language, who can relate to him, who is so pretty and petite—someone who is everything she isn’t.
She had managed to walk away from Hyunjin and out of the front door, tears now falling down her face. Her vision was blurry and she didn’t really know where she was going or what she was trying to do—all she knew was that she was frustrated with herself and felt like her heart just ripped in half.
She doesn’t know how long she was just standing there when she felt his presence behind her, footsteps frantic. “Y/N,” He breathed out, like he had been running, “Why… what are you doing? What’s wrong?”
She sniffled, bringing her hand up to wipe at her eyes, not wanting him to see her crying and upset. When she didn’t reply, he took a step in front of her, and she quickly looked down, attempting to turn away, when he softly reached up to grab ahold of her face.
He tilted her head up so that he could look her in the eyes, eyes softening once he noticed the tears staining her cheeks. “What’s wrong, baby?” He whispered out, wiping the bottom of her eyes with the pad of his fingers.
“You don’t want me anymore,” She hiccuped, voice cracking slightly at the end, “You were… you were all over that other girl. She was pretty. She was so pretty. And a lot s-smaller than me.”
She hated how her insecurities were starting to consume her. Y/N had never felt insecure—always coming off so confident in herself and her body when it came to most things, especially when it when came to hook-ups. But something about seeing Hyunjin with someone who looked so elegant and confident made her skin crawl in the worst way. Y/N always knew Hyunjin was out of her league. This proves it.
“What?” He replied back, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “What you talking about? The girl inside?”
Y/N rolled her eyes, moving her face away from his hands. “Obviously. Unless there’s another girl you’ve been fucking behind my back and just haven’t told me.”
His hands pulled her face back, slight grip on the back of her neck holding her in place so she was forced to look at him. “Don’t talk to me like that,” He spoke out, voice more stern than it was prior. “There is no other girl. You know that. Only want you… even if you get attitude with me because you’re jealous.”
Y/N felt her face heating up, but kept going anyway, “You rejected me earlier. I tried to kiss you and you rejected me, to talk to her.”
Hyunjin quirked a grin, which made Y/N more upset than she was earlier. Is he not taking this seriously?
Before she could say another word, he pulled her face down, lips moving against her own. The kiss was soft, tender—a complete contrast of what she was used to with him. She could taste the slight mint in his breath, feel the warmth of him, and she found herself pulling him even closer, body immediately betraying her.
She whined when he pulled away. “I didn’t want to make a scene,” He mumbled out, finger softly playing with her bottom lip, eyes fixated on the slight pout, “Didn’t want to cause more attention. Was trying to look after you. I’m sorry.”
Y/N suddenly felt like crying again at how sincere he sounded, how soft he was. He was looking at her so tenderly, so lovingly, that she almost ended up blurting out her feelings. But suddenly, an overwhelming sense of guilt hit her all at once as she thought back to Minho a few hours prior, face paling.
“Come on,” He smiled at her, giving her another quick peck on the lips, “Come home with me.”
He placed his hand on her lower back, guiding her towards his Porsche that was parked on the side of the road. She followed, because she would follow him anywhere, mouth becoming dry.
“Hyunjin,” She whispered out, attempting to get his attention. He didn’t hear her, opening the passenger door for her before helping her get inside, leaning over to buckle her up. He smiled at her again, kissing the side of her cheek once before closing the door, jogging back to the other side. He sat down, turning the music down just a bit. Y/N felt stiff.
“You want my hoodie?” He asked, not waiting on her to answer him as he began to slip it over his head, handing it to her. She grabbed it from him, hands shaking slightly, before placing it on her lap.
“Cold?” He asked again, noticing that she was shaking a bit. When she didn’t reply, he turned on the heat anyway before putting the car in drive.
Y/N starred at his hoodie for a second. It felt wrong to put it on. “Hyunjin,” She tried again, bile rising in her throat. They had gotten to the stop sign at end of the neighborhood when he turned to look at her. He placed his hand on her exposed thigh, “What’s wrong? Do you feel sick again?”
He placed the car back in park before rolling her window down. She felt like she might pass out.
“If you need to get sick again, it’s okay. Try to lean out window. I can clean up if it gets on seats.” His soft voice echoed through the car, and Y/N wanted to cry. He was in the middle of pulling back her hair into a ponytail when she had finally spoke.
“I kissed someone tonight,” She blurted out, chest heaving, the bile in her throat getting stuck. She didn’t dare look at him, not yet. His fingers loosened. “Minho. From Felix’s frat. I kissed him. I was drunk and I was confused. It isn’t an excuse, but I regretted it immediately after. I still regret it. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
It was quiet. Daniel Caesar was softly playing in the background, faint yelling was heard from down the road. It was quiet, and Y/N hated it.
Finally, he spoke. “Why?” He whispered out. It was a simple question, yet why did it feel so hard to answer?
Y/N felt him looking at her. She still couldn’t bring herself to look back. When she didn’t reply, he moved his hands away from her hair, and she hated how it cold it felt.
“I wanted to forget about you,” She finally breathed out, new tears forming in her eyes, threatening to escape, “You are all I think about. You have been the only thing on my mind since I chased after you up those stairs. I hate that I can’t just stop thinking about you. It scares me.”
She finally worked up the courage to look up at him. His gaze was unreadable, fingers twitching at his side. He looked so beautiful like this.
“I know we aren’t together… not like that, at least,” She continued, thankful that she was still a little drunk otherwise she wouldn’t have been able to say any of this, letting out a little sniffle, “But I… I want to be. I have for so long now. I’m just… I’m scared, and I don’t know what will happen, or if we will even work out, but I’m willing to try. You are… you are worth everything. You are everything, Hyunjin.”
The grip on his hoodie tightened, the tears now flowing freely down her cheeks. She felt like a giant weight has finally been lifted off her shoulders. She just didn’t want it to happen this way—not in a way that was hurting them both.
She cried harder once he never replied, cuddling his hoodie to her chest to get his scent one last time before placing it on his lap. Her hands were still shaking. “I’m sorry,” She choked out, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands, “I will… I’ll go. Goodbye, Hyunjin.”
Her hands reached for the door when he tugged her back. “No,” He let out, “Stop.”
His hands were warm, comforting. “Look at me.” He whispered.
She cleared her throat before turning around. The grip on her arm tightened ever so slightly, his eyes twinkling. “I want that, too. Want to try… with you.” He spoke softly, carefully. “And yes, I’m upset about kiss, but there is nothing I can do. Like you said, we were not together. So it’s okay. I still want you just as much.”
Y/N smiled through her tears, fingers coming up to wipe at the mascara that she knew was running down her cheeks before leaning over to kiss him. He reciprocated immediately, mouth moving against hers, both of them savoring the taste—savoring the feeling.
She pulled back, lips hovering over his own. “Wanna fuck you,” Y/N mumbled, kissing the corner of his mouth, “Wanna show you just how much I want you.”
Hyunjin let out a breath, cock twitching in his sweatpants. “N-not now,” He stuttered out, although it physically pained him to say it, “You are drunk, yeah? Feels wrong.”
She kissed down his neck, getting to that spot behind his ear that she knew he loved, hand trailing down to the obvious bulge forming in his sweats. He let out a strangled moan, hips jerking slightly, his hands resting on her own, attempting to stop her.
“Only a little bit,” Y/N replied, choosing to intertwine their fingers instead, not wanting to make him uncomfortable, “I know what I’m doing. Just really want you. It’s okay if you want to wait, but you have my permission. You always have it.”
It looked like Hyunjin was fighting an internal battle—eyes narrowed in on the way she brought his hand up to her mouth, softly kissing the back of his hand. She did that a few times before putting one of his fingers into her mouth, mouth going up and down, tongue swirling, eye contact never faltering. She popped his finger out of his mouth, guiding his hand to wrap around her throat. His hand tightened around her neck softly and she let out a moan before un-zipping the back of her dress, exposing her upper-half to him. His breath hitched, eyes immediately drawn to her breasts that were sitting so perfectly in front of him, nipples hard and perky, begging for him to suck on them.
She smirked, biting her lip as she glanced at him. His hand tightened ever so slightly when she moved her hands up towards her breasts, fingers lightly tracing around her hardened nipples. She moaned his name out once, thighs rubbing together, and Hyunjin felt hot.
“Fuck me,” He groaned out, accent more prominent the more worked up he was getting, “You want to fuck me? Take me then, baby.”
Y/N didn’t need to be told twice. She clumsily pulled the rest of her dress down her legs before throwing it in the backseat. She couldn’t help but think that she probably looked ridiculous and her fat rolls were most definitely on display as she wiggled out of the dress in such a tight space, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Not when Hyunjin was looking at her like he wanted to devour her.
“Lean back,” She mumbled out, leaning over slightly. He listened, moving his seat back as far as it would go before reclining the seat. He un-buckled his seat belt, hips raising slightly as he adjusted himself through his sweats. Y/N glanced down, watching him squirm for a second before deciding she’s had enough.
“Well?” She spoke out, tone condescending, “You gonna just lay there all night or take your pants off so I can fuck you?”
Hyunjin scrambled to get his pants off, only getting them down to his ankles when Y/N had crawled over towards him, harshly plopping herself down on his lap, dick grazing her pussy lips. He moaned immediately at the contact, at how wet she already was, and his hands grabbed ahold of her hips, attempting to guide her to grind down on him.
She swat his hands away. “Don’t,” She breathed out, grinding down on him anyway, “Hands off. Only thing you can touch is my clit while I’m riding you. Got it?”
“Cute,” He smirked in reply, an amused expression on his face. He started to let out a laugh, thinking that she just looked so adorable trying to dominate him, but a sudden grip on his throat stopped him. He let out a choked moan at the feeling, hips jerking upwards, dick sliding in-between her folds so perfectly that he could just easily slide right in.
His mouth was slightly open, hooded eyes glancing up at her, and he grinned at her before softly biting his bottom lip. “Harder.” He choked out, moan getting caught in his throat once she did just that, his dick painfully twitching beneath her.
She rubbed against him more forcefully, the tip of his dick teasing her entrance, and she leaned down, kissing the corner of his mouth before trailing her lips over towards his ear. “Beg,” She whispered, breath making him shiver. When he didn’t say anything, she squeezed him a little harder, a soft gasp escaping his mouth. She loosened her grip a little, giving him another opportunity. “Beg, Hyunjin. Beg for me to fuck you, and I promise to let you cum inside me.”
“F-fuck,” He gasped out after spitting out a few curses in Korean. She harshly moved his head to the side, leaning down to kiss and suck on the other side of his neck. Her free hand trailed down to grab ahold of his dick, hard and leaking and angry, and she rubbed his tip against her lips, softly biting at the skin on his neck at the feeling.
“P-please, baby. Please fuck me. Need it so bad… need you so bad.” He choked out, mixing up his English with Korean, voice desperate and strained. He kept going, kept begging in his native tongue, and Y/N didn’t waste anymore time in taking his cock.
The stretch was insane—it always was. No matter how many times they’ve fucked, he still feels so big inside her, and she feels so full everytime. They both let out a long moan, and Y/N raised her body up, only to come back down on him with just as much force as before.
“You’re so hot,” Y/N gasped out, loosening her grip more on his neck, the sound of their skin slapping against each other filling up the car, “So sexy. S-so perfect. Keep talking. Please.”
Hyunjin eyes were locked on the way her pussy was swallowing him whole, watched how her juices were coating him, mouth still slightly open. The soft glow from the street lamps outside were just enough to where he could see her, and he thought she looked beautiful like this.
He felt her clench around him when he started talking again. He told her how beautiful she looked taking his cock, how tight she felt, how perfect she sounded. He then placed one of his hands over hers on his neck, the other coming up towards her mouth. She opened, sucking on his fingers like she was starved, and he trailed them back down to start rubbing slow circles on her clit.
When she moaned his name again, he kept talking. This time, he told her that nobody would ever fuck her this good, that nobody would ever get to feel how sinful her pussy feels, that nobody would ever get to see her like this—confident, sexy, and utterly beautiful. He told her that only she was allowed to ride his cock, to use him however she pleases, and he’ll be damned if she ever forgets that.
“Fuck, Hyunjin,” She whimpered out, hips speeding up, ass slapping against his balls so deliciously. She glanced down at him, saw the fucked-out look on his face, the slight drool on the corner of his lips, and she gripped his neck tighter.
“You’re mine, understand?” She moaned out, hips never faltering their movements despite the burning she felt in her thighs. The car was rocking, windows fogging up. “Nobody else can have you like this. Nobody can ride your dick better than I can. Nobody else can ever see you like this… see you so fucked out and drunk off my pussy. You are mine. You understand that, baby?”
“Y-yes,” He stuttered out, pleased as fuck that she’s just as worse as he is, “Yours. I’m yours. Fuck.”
His hair was falling across his eyes, a string of curses escaping his lips. Y/N felt her legs starting to shake, hips jerking from the constant stimulation of his dick hitting exactly where she likes it and his fingers that were sloppily rubbing against her clit, breasts bouncing with each rough movement. She leaned her body forward, hand moving down from his neck to his chest to support herself as she adjusted her rhythm to slowly grind on his cock. She leaned her face down, slowly tracing his right nipple with her tongue, the other hand harshly pinching at the left.
“F-fuck. About… to cum,” Hyunjin whined out, voice raspy, eyes rolling to the back of his head, “B-baby, can I cum? Please?”
“No,” She smirked before biting at his nipple. He let out a choked moan, tears forming in his eyes, hands twitching at his sides. She was still grinding on him, felt so warm and wet and tight around him, and he tightly placed his hands on her hips before planting his feet on the floorboard, hips roughly thrusting upwards.
Y/N moaned out, the force making her body jolt backwards, back leaning against the steering wheel. His thrusts were fast, frantic, desperate. His cock was hitting her just right, so thick and long and perfect, and she found herself moaning out his name as a plea, the familiar pit forming in her stomach.
“Gonna cum,” He loudly whined out, voice high, desperate, “You gonna take it. J-just take it… l-like that… yeah… just… fuck,” His voice trailed off, words falling off his tongue, and his hips stuttered once, twice, before he spilled inside her.
Y/N let out a shriek at the feeling, vision going blurry as she tilted her head back, milking his cock dry.
She collapsed forward, head falling in the crook of his neck. His arms immediately wrapped around her, bringing her even closer. They laid like that for a minute, his dick softening inside her ever so slightly, and Y/N began peppering soft kisses on the side of neck. Hyunjin winced at the feeling.
“Sorry if I hurt you,” Y/N whispered out before kissing down the other side of his neck.
“You didn’t,” He replied, voice still a little rough, “Just… sensitive.”
She kissed up towards the side of his face before pausing to look at him. His lips were swollen, dried tears lying on his cheeks, hair slightly sticking to his forehead. He was a mess. A beautiful mess.
Hyunjin felt her starring at him, eyes slowly opening as he turned his head towards her. He met her eyes, and something gentle settled there—a love showed not in words, but in the stillness of how she looked at him. And in that moment, Hyunjin finally understood that home was not a place he would return to, but a place that recognized him, embraced him, loved him.
And in the space where the semester ended, between what was finished and what had not quite begun, something remained. It wasn’t loud enough to make a promise, it wasn’t fragile enough to completely disappear, but it was something that felt like home, even as everything else let go.
𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: park sunghoon, campus playboy, is notorious for fucking around. the day you’ve dreaded has finally come, he makes his rounds on your roommate who’s been desperate to get him in her bed but what you don’t expect is for him to want you instead. campus life was just a series of fleeting connections until he found you— the nerdy girl he can’t get out of his head, now, it’s you who he can’t forget, it’s you he wants to be known for, it’s you he wants to belong to.
𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: smut, fluff, angst, opposites attract, college au
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: explicit sexual content, rough sex, dirty talk, spanking, biting, breath play, choking, slapping, orgasm denial/control, praise kink, dirty talk, oral sex (giving and receiving), fingering, very hard dom!hoon, sub!reader, consistent unprotected sex (be safe!), use of ‘baby’ and ‘good girl’, grinding, reader rides hoon, exhibitionism, intense emotional dynamics, strong language, and explicit content, explicit language, swearing, mention of drugs, smoking, alcohol, a lot of college party scenes, oc is uninterested in sunghoon at first but he changes that (and quickly!), mentions of fuckboy!sunghoon, initially fucks her roommate, but falls in love with yn’s stuff that’s around the apartment, himym!scene inspo, if you know you know, oc is a hot bassist in a band, hoon sees her play, gets hard and turned on seeing her play the strings with her fingers, imagines touching her, hoon and oc unexpectedly have the exact same matching tattoo, so many girl moments, kpop ‘00 liners, enhypen ‘02 line, sunwoo, eric, yeji and oc are in a band, inappropriate, mature humor, hoon is very forward, very confident, very daring, very self assured and dominant, arin causes a lot of trouble, sunghoon makes reader very shy and flustered, intimidating sunghoon, sweetheart sunghoon, emotional moments, appearance from nct foreign swagger line, sunghoon takes reader home, boyfriend sunghoon (kinda), watch as sunghoon and oc fall in love, sunghoon always touching reader under her skirt lmao, smut text portion, so much angst and pain, heartbreak, gets angsty and rough as fuck.
listen to 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 whilst reading <3
i uploaded as a jeno ver originally. i dont think there’s any name mishaps or mistakes but if there is then please let me know politely :)
Park Sunghoon was the bane of your existence.
The University’s study lounge buzzes with the sound of students shuffling in their seats, flipping through textbooks, and tapping away on their laptops. But for you, the noise fades into the background as your thoughts are consumed by one person: Park Sunghoon. He's become the bane of your existence, infiltrating your mind at every turn.
You try to focus on your studies, desperately attempting to absorb the intricacies of musical composition and sound design. But you can't do anything, you can’t focus on your assignments, eat, drink or work on your laptop without thinking of him. Every time you open your textbook, his face flashes before your eyes, distracting you from the task at hand. It's infuriating how effortlessly he invades your thoughts against your own will.
Nayoung’s infatuation with Sunghoon has reached insufferable levels ever since they started hooking up. It's all she ever talks about, as if he's some kind of god among men. But for you, he's just another distraction, a nuisance that refuses to leave you alone. Since they started hooking up, she's been relentless, unable to shut up about their sexual exploits. He can’t be that good…
For you, it's all just noise. You're simply not interested.
While everyone else on campus is busy fucking like rabbits, you couldn't care less. It's like you're the only one on campus who hasn't been sucked into the sex craze. Your focus is on your studies and your future, not getting laid. It's a stark contrast, but you're fine with being the odd one out.
You try to tune out Nayoung’s incessant chatter, but her voice cuts through the air like a knife. "Shut up, shut up!" she exclaims, slapping your hands hastily and pulling you from your thoughts.
You pout in frustration, resisting the urge to snap at her. "I'm not even talking..." you mutter under your breath, huffing in exasperation as you shut your laptop screen down. It's futile to even attempt to get any work done with Sunghoon constantly looming in your mind, taunting you with his presence.
"He's here... He's here! Fuck, he's walking my way and staring at me," Nayoung’s flustered words fill the air as she nervously adjusts her hair, throwing quick glances toward the entrance. You can't help but shake your head at her worry. There's no need for her to fret or make last-minute adjustments, Nayoung is effortlessly attractive, her beauty undeniable and her personality sweetly infectious. She has this casual, confident vibe that's undeniably sexy. It's clear why everyone seems to be wrapped around her little finger.
Then there's Park Sunghoon, making his entrance as if it's the most natural thing in the world to draw every eye in the room. He walks with a confidence that borders on arrogance, an aura around him that's almost too intense. He seems to claim every space he steps into as his own, and today, the cafeteria turns into his domain.
He makes his way over and takes the seat right beside you, as if that spot had been waiting just for him. As he settles in, you find yourself involuntarily gulping a bit, suddenly all too aware of the intensity of his presence. It's undeniable, the aura he carries; a blend of confidence and an almost tangible allure fills the space, charging the air around you. The whole place falls into a hush, the kind of silence that screams of everyone's rapt attention on him, and inevitably, on you by association.
As you catch sight of Sunghoon turning his gaze towards Nayoung, your eyes roll almost instinctively. He reaches out, taking her hand with a gentleness that contradicts his commanding presence, his lips brushing against her skin in a soft kiss. Nayoung’s reaction is immediate; she gulps, visibly struggling to maintain composure, taken aback by the tenderness of his touch.
It's a moment that, despite your usual disinterest, makes you understand just a fraction of the allure that Park Sunghoon carries with him. He's a presence that's hard to ignore, drawing you into his orbit whether you're willing or not.
"We still on for tonight, baby?" Sunghoon's voice sends a shiver down your spine, momentarily silencing the room. Nayoung is completely captivated by him, lost in her own world, unable to form a proper response. But when you nudge her foot with yours, she coughs and says, "Yes, I'll be waiting for you." Her voice is low and sultry, a hint of anticipation laced in her words. "In my bed, all alone, with no clothes on," she continues, biting her lip seductively as she tilts her head and winks at him. "I'll be yours to play with all night long." Her gaze smolders with desire as she waits for his reaction, teasing him with the promise of what's to come.
Sitting beside you, Park Sunghoon has the kind of presence that's impossible to ignore. From what you've heard, the stories that swirl around campus, he's the quintessential heartbreaker, popular, with an air of cockiness that he wears as comfortably as the clothes on his back. He’s dressed casually today, yet every piece seems carefully chosen to accentuate his athletic build—a testament to his dedication as a football player. His fitted t-shirt clings in all the right places, paired with jeans that manage to be both casual and unmistakably deliberate in their fit. His hair, a perfect shade that catches the light, is styled in a seemingly effortless manner, falling just so to frame his striking features.
Sunghoon’s face is a canvas of attractive contrasts; sharp jawlines meet soft, inviting lips, and his eyes, deep and expressive, hold a hint of mischief. There’s a natural symmetry to his features that’s compelling, drawing you in despite any reservations. The easy smirk that often plays across his lips suggests a man who knows his allure and isn’t afraid to use it to his advantage.
But it's not just his looks that have earned him his reputation. He's known to be overconfident, a trait that, combined with his status as a football player, makes him all the more prominent in the social hierarchy of campus life. His charm is scandalous, wielded with the precision of someone who knows just how impactful they are. He's the epitome of a fuckboy, leaving a trail of whispers and rumors in his wake.
Yet, despite the warnings, the stories of hearts left in his path, there's something undeniably captivating about him. He's social, able to navigate any conversation with ease, drawing people in with a magnetism that's hard to resist. And fucking handsome? Absolutely. There's a reason every glance he throws seems to linger, every smile feels like it's meant just for the receiver. It's this mix of danger and allure that makes him an enigma .
Your thoughts are abruptly interrupted when you catch Sunghoon and Nayoung exchanging glances so intense, they could only be described as eye fucking. And you're almost certain he's touching her under the table. Casting a discreet glance their way, disbelief washes over you. Their boldness in such a public setting is startling—where's the sense of privacy, the modesty? It's a display that leaves you questioning the very notions of discretion and boundaries in social interactions.
You assumed your silent judgment would go unnoticed, as usual. Being invisible had its perks; it let you navigate these social seas undisturbed, a mode of survival that had become your comfort zone. Yet, just as you side-eye the intimate display between Sunghoon and Nayoung, Jungwon catches your gaze. With a wink, he throws a comment your way, "Don't feel left out, I'll fuck you," assuming a familiarity that you've never invited.
Your response is immediate and flat, "Shut up," hoping to quash the conversation then and there with your deadpan delivery.
But then Jay chimes in, laughter barely concealed in his voice, "Dude, she's not gonna fuck you, that's the girl who's waiting until marriage."
At Jay's words, a familiar rumor audible for all to hear, you can't help but roll your eyes. It's not the first time your personal choices became the focus of campus gossip, yet it never gets easier to hear it discussed so openly.
In that moment, Sunghoon's gaze locks with yours, a brief encounter that feels like an eternity. His eyes, sharp and probing, offer no hint of his thoughts, leaving you floundering in their depths. The intensity of his stare is unexpectedly captivating, sending a jolt of weakness through you that's both unsettling and embarrassingly thrilling. Despite the rumors and the situation, you're forced to admit, Sunghoon is undeniably hot.
But just as quickly as the moment arrives, it passes. Sunghoon breaks the eye contact, returning to his own world with an ease that suggests he's completely unfazed by Jay's comment. This reaction, or lack thereof, catches you off guard. You had braced yourself for a tease or a quip, something to match Jungwon and Jay's playful torment. Yet, Sunghoon's disinterest and quick dismissal of the conversation leave you in a curious mix of relief and disappointment.
One day you’re gonna cut Park Sunghoon’s cock off.
There’s no way he can make a girl scream that loud.
The frustration builds within you as you sit in your room, once again failing to focus on studying the medical procedures you need to know by tomorrow. And who’s to blame? Park Sunghoon, of course. It’s the second time today his fucking with Nayoung has derailed your concentration. Normally, living with her is a joy; she’s your best friend, your better half. But in moments like these, you wish you could live alone, away from the constant distractions of her sex life.
She gets laid a lot, it’s a regular occurrence in your shared apartment. She’s louder than she normally is tonight, her moans and screams echoing through the walls without a hint of restraint. You try to drown out the noise, burying your head in your textbooks, but it's futile. You can't focus, your mind consumed by thoughts of Sunghoon and his cock.
(Unfortunately)
Eventually, the noise subsides, and you cautiously step out of your room, relieved that Sunghoon seems to have finally left. But as you round the corner, a low, deep voice sends a shiver down your spine, and you freeze in your tracks. He's still here.
Panic sets in as you realise how you're practically walking around naked in an oversized top and short shorts, no bra to conceal your exposed skin. You curse under your breath, desperate to escape to the safety of your room, but you know he'll see and hear you if you make a move now.
With no other option, you dart behind the sofa, thankful for its strategic placement that shields you from his view. Heart racing, you hold your breath, praying he doesn't notice you hiding just a few feet away.
Unbeknownst to you, Sunghoon's attention isn't on Nayoung; he wouldn't have recognized your presence even if you made noise. You're pretty sure Nayoung doesn't realize you're here either. Sunghoon is shirtless, basking in the afterglow of sex, but his focus isn't on Nayoung; he's not even looking at her.
The moment he entered the house for the first time, Sunghoon became enamored. It felt as though he was right where he was supposed to be. His eyes lit up with surprise and thrill as he noticed certain things and items that caught his attention—things he found cool and eye-catching. Despite never having been in this house before, it felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be.
His eyes sparkled with a light that you should've seen, a light that no other girl had brought to him before. "How did you get this?" he asks Nayoung in awe, marveling at a rare Lego set.
"I didn't. It's my roommate's," she replies, her features showing amusement and disinterest. You had so many nerdy and niche things lying around, and Nayoung found none of them interesting.
Sunghoon spots a rare album, one he's never seen anyone have before. "This is really cool. I didn't know you were into—"
"Yeah, that's also my roommate's," Nayoung interrupts.
Sunghoon shakes his head in amusement, his eyes landing on a book, ‘Normal People' by Sally Rooney. "What about this?”
"A birthday gift from my roommate. I haven't checked it out yet," Nayoung replies.
"Oh, you should. It's really cool," Sunghoon says, scratching his head. He's about to apologise, realising he's delving too much into your personal space. But then his eyes land on a bass guitar and the apology fails to slip from his tongue. "Do you play bass? I always say that my ideal woman—" Sunghoon catches himself, sighing as he realises Nayoung silence. "—does not play bass, because this is clearly your roommate's."
"She's in a band," Nayoung says simply.
"Damn, that's cool," Sunghoon whispers. "What's she like?"
You gulp nervously, wondering why Park Sunghoon wants to know about you. You’re not used to the feeling of someone being interested in you, you’re not used to someone wanting to find out more and uncover you. It's incredibly foreign and unfamiliar.
“She's in the matrix, she's a whore," Nayoung says, and you open your mouth in shock. What the fuck? No, you were not!
Sunghoon chuckles, and you realise Nayoung was just joking. Her next words warm your heart. "She's the best person I've ever met. She's really chill and calm, sweet to everyone, and fair. She has a really good heart. She's different from everyone we see on campus, different in a good way. She's a bit of a nerd; her main worries in life are how to get the next rare Lego set or make sure she has enough time to balance being in her band, acing all her med exams, and doing all that volunteering and extracurricular crap. She's a breath of fresh air."
Nayoung shakes her head with a dry chuckle. "This is unbelievable. You just picked out all the things in here that belong to my roommate. You didn't even spare a glance at the stuff that's mine.”
Yeah, because they're not interesting, Sunghoon thinks.
Nayoung eyes all of your possessions and shakes her head. She turns to Sunghoon. "It's really weird stuff, and I'm really shocked you find it interesting. I didn't expect it from you. I've never seen someone as interested in it... other than you and my roommate."
“My roommate is into pretty weird stuff. She does these weird paintings of robots playing sports.”
Sunghoon scratches his neck and nods. “Yeah, that’s weird…” (He thought it sounded pretty cool).
“She also has this crazy habit of making breakfast food sing show tunes, I mean, it’s not that annoying because she’s an amazing singer, she’s in a band so I’ll give that to her.”
"So does your roommate's band ever play shows or...?" Sunghoon asks.
"Get out," Nayoung bluntly says, pointing her arm towards the door.
Nayoung sighs; this always happens. Nayoung had a roommate complex. Unbeknownst to you, guys always dug her roommate, you. Only you would never know the full extent or seriousness of this, as you would never return the affection or interest. You were robotic, denying all forms of affection, so nothing ever came from guys wanting to fuck you. Paired with the rumor that you were strictly Christian and waiting until marriage to fuck, yeah, you weren’t going to get laid anytime soon.
She takes a seat on the sofa and nearly jumps when she sees you sleeping there soundly. She didn’t know that you staged this; you knew she’d come to the couch after Sunghoon left, so you had to pretend you were sleeping. You couldn’t let Nayoung or Sunghoon know that you had heard and witnessed that entire interaction. She smiles at you and covers you in the blankets fully, readjusting your head and dimming the lights. She wasn’t surprised that you drew attention without trying to or even knowing that people were into you.
She did have a really fucking cool roommate.
The next morning, Nayoung looks sad, her shoulders slumped as she sits at the kitchen table, picking at her breakfast. You take in her demeanor, noting the furrow in her brow and the downturn of her lips. You have to put your acting skills to use, masking the knowledge of why she's upset with a concerned expression. You go to her immediately, your voice filled with worry, "What's wrong? Did he? I'm gonna kill him—"
Nayoung huffs softly, a mix of frustration and resignation in her breath. "We're gonna stop seeing each other," she explains, her voice tinged with sadness.
Your eyes widen in surprise, and you're about to throw hands but she shakes her head and tells you to calm down, making ‘no’ motions, a small smile playing at her lips. She shakes her head and chuckles softly, "No, he did nothing wrong. I'm not gonna miss him. I know this was just sex, but god, he's really attractive and has a good personality. I'm not getting caught up, but wow, I just feel overwhelmed and intense. How can someone be such an attractive and hot person and know how to use his cock?"
You're at a loss for words, your voice catching in your throat as you struggle to find the right response. You were awkward when it came to emotional conversations, you didn’t know how to comfort someone! One to one intimate moments like this overwhelmed you. However, Nayoung drops a bomb that leaves you speechless and stunned.
"And he likes you."
You choke on your own breath, your eyes widening in disbelief as you shake your head vehemently. "Me? What? That’s absolutely ridiculous, Nayoung, no he doesn’t! He doesn’t even know who I am."
Inner turmoil consumes you as conflicting thoughts swirl in your mind. How could someone like Sunghoon possibly be interested in you? You've never exchanged a single word, never shared a moment beyond fleeting glances in passing. Logically, it doesn't add up; you're strangers. He revels in the chaos of getting high and fuckinf, while you find solace in quiet evenings, lost in the intricate world of LEGO creations and the soothing melody of your bass guitar. It's inconceivable that someone like him could find anything remotely intriguing in someone like you.
"I'm telling you. He likes you. It's true! He pointed out every single thing in the living room that was yours. He likes all the things you do. He's a nerd like you."
Your voice cracks with disbelief, your hands gesturing in denial as you try to process Nayoung's words. "Park Sunghoon? Nerd? He's far from... he's a fuckboy and a football player, he's popular and parties like there's no tomorrow, he smokes and does drugs and—"
"Y/N! You know better than to stereotype. Yes, he does party, is popular, and loves fucking, but he's more than that. He's obviously more than that, and it's not like he hides it. You're only seeing what you want to see. The image you have of him in your head is an image that is surface level. He's actually a good guy, he doesn’t think of himself as above people, and he's chill and kind. He aces exams, and he fucking knows about all the rare little Legos like you do, so he’s clearly a nerd!"
You sigh heavily, feeling a mix of frustration and realization wash over you. Nayoung was right. You were only seeing what you wanted to see. Your idea of him was so fixed and stubborn that you refused to look deeper, beyond the surface.
"It’s like you, Y/N. People only see you as that nerdy, quiet loner who doesn’t talk to anyone and doesn’t drink or party. People think you’re weird—"
"Gee, thanks a lot," you cut off Nayoung's words, sarcastically thanking her for her honesty.
"But I know that you’re way more than that! Your main focus may be your studies, but you’ve got so many cute little side interests! It all adds to your personality and it’s all important. It shouldn’t be overlooked. It makes you who you are. Not only are you a med student, but you’re also in a fucking band! You’re the bassist! It’s fucking hot and cool, Y/N. Park Sunghoon even asked for the name of your band."
What you knew about Park Sunghoon’s cock was against your own will.
Nayoung’s words echo in your mind, each syllable sending a jolt of heat straight to your core. "Sunghoon’s literally so good at dirty talk," she continues, her voice dripping with excitement. "He knows exactly how to please a woman. He doesn’t just stick his dick in and out. He actually has superb technique."
You breathe heavily, shutting your laptop once and for all. "If you and Sunghoon have stopped seeing each other then why are you telling me this?" you interrupt, unable to conceal the frustration in your voice. Nayoung and Yeji exchange a glance, their eyes twinkling mischievously as they exchange silent communication. It's like they're speaking a language that only they understand, leaving you feeling increasingly left out and confused.
Nayoung and Eunji exchanged a look, and it utterly confused you. They'd been giving each other these secretive glances for the past week, making you desperately wish you could tap into whatever little secret they were keeping. Yet, whenever you brought it up, they simply shifted the topic.
"You guys are seriously starting to annoy me," you finally snap, unable to contain your frustration any longer. "Can you just tell me whatever the fuck it is you’re thinking about?" You're met with a knowing smirk from both Nayoung and Eunji, their lips quirking into sly smiles as they continue to exchange secretive glances.
Nayoung leans in closer, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper as she continues to regale you with tales of Sunghoon’s abilities in the bedroom. "You know, Sunghoon’s not just about the physical stuff," she says cryptically, her gaze flickering with something you can’t quite decipher.
Eunji nods in agreement, her lips quirking into a sly smile as she adds, "He’s got this way of making you feel like you’re the only woman in the world when he’s with you. Once he went down on me and I couldn’t walk for days."
Your eyes widen in surprise at Eunji’s revelation, feeling a mix of shock and arousal coursing through you. "When did you fuck him?" you blurt out, unable to conceal your curiosity.
She just laughs, shaking her head as she brushes off your question with ease. "We’ve casually fucked from time to time," she says nonchalantly. "It’s not that shocking, Y/N. His body count is high, after he broke up with Arin, his cock has been unstoppable."
You huff in disbelief. "Who has he not fucked?" you mutter under your breath, your mind reeling with thoughts of Sunghoon's sexual conquests.
"You," Nayoung and Eunji say simultaneously, their words hitting you like a ton of bricks. Silence falls over you as you process their words, feeling a strange mix of shock and excitement swirling inside you.
"What is that even supposed to mean?" you stammer, feeling a sense of unease creeping over you at their cryptic words.
Nayoung just smirks. “Nothing. I’m just telling you how good he is in bed.” You had a feeling she was lying. She had her reasons and motives, ones you were far from understanding.
"And why is that of use to me?" you question, expecting an answer. You turn to Sunwoo when you’re met with silence from the girls.
"Sunwoo, help me," you nudge him from beside you, knowing you could trust your closest and oldest friend.
You sigh in relief when he turns to the two girls. “Leave her alone, this Sunghoon thing is ridiculous, he’s way out of her league.” His words bring you peace and you rest your head against his shoulder, taking a deep breath.
“I’m sorry, I love you, Y/N, but no one is out of Sunghoon’s league. If anything, it’s the other way around,” Nayoung retorts.
“Thanks a lot,” you snort.
“It’s not just you, everyone is out of his league,” Eunji clarifies.
“I’m not,” Sunwoo says dryly.
“You shut up!” Eunji points an accusing finger at Sunwoo. “I know you have protective, brotherly tendencies when it comes to Y/N, but you have to admit… our girl needs cock!”
He turns to you, a knowing smirk that only the two of you will understand. “You do really need to get laid though,” he says in a low voice.
Nayoung goes back to praising Sunghoon for his sexual abilities. “And let me tell you, his dirty talk is next level,”
A devilish grin spreads across Eunji’s face as she shares a smirk with Nayoung, recalling one of her past encounters with Sunghoon. “I’ve never had sex with someone who has such good timing and pace,” she confesses. "He knows exactly what to do with his cock, hands, and lips, and where to do it."
"He’s not just in it for himself, you know," Eunji adds, her tone serious as she looks you straight in the eye. "He genuinely cares about his partner’s pleasure. He’s the perfect person to experience all of your firsts with."
"Hey!" you exclaim, feeling a surge of indignation rising up inside you. "This feels very targeted and personal," you accuse, your voice cracking with frustration. "Where is this coming from?"
You had never spoken a word to Park Sunghoon in your life. Sure, you noticed that he seemed to take an interest in your belongings around the apartment, but that wasn't enough to warrant Nayoung and Eunji sudden push to get you interested in him. It all felt too orchestrated, too deliberate, and you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to their agenda than they were letting on. Despite their efforts to convince you otherwise, you remained skeptical about the idea of getting involved with someone like Sunghoon, especially considering your vastly different personalities and lifestyles.
"I'm not saying you have to jump into bed with him right away," Nayoung says, her voice softening with sincerity. "But maybe give him a chance. You might be surprised. I know what you're gonna say, 'He's the Park Sunghoon, campus fuckboy and resident player, we're in completely different leagues and scenes, and we'll never get along.'" Nayoung mimics your voice, and you narrow your eyes.
"I sound nothing like that!" you frown, realizing you sounded exactly like that.
"Just think about it, Y/N," Nayoung says, her voice tinged with excitement.
"I'm not gonna think about it, my mind is gonna be on the gig I have tonight. You guys better be there!" you declare.
Nayoung's response comes with a gleam in her eye, a spark of something mischievous lurking beneath her casual assurance. "Oh, we wouldn't miss it for the world," she says, her glance sliding over to Yeji as they share a knowing look. They wink at each other, sealing a silent pact, the first stage of their mission to bring you and Sunghoon closer is already in motion.
Sunghoon received a text from Nayoung, inviting him to meet for some drinks at the bar. The anticipation of a night filled with pleasure courses through his veins, driving him to accept the invitation without hesitation.
He goes because he anticipates getting laid. Sunghoon enjoyed the sex with Nayoung, as he did with any other girl. He had an insatiable appetite for sex, and he never shied away from indulging in it. However, he was always respectful and mindful of boundaries. His partners knew that he was only seeking physical satisfaction, and he made sure they felt just as much pleasure as they gave him.
It didn’t matter to him if Nayoung's personality didn’t align with his; he was solely focused on fulfilling his carnal desires. Feeling sexually frustrated, Sunghoon eagerly heads to the bar, eager to find release in Nayoung's company.
Feeling sexually frustrated and on edge, Sunghoon's steps quicken as he approaches the bar, the dim lights and pulsing music heightening his senses. He craves the distraction, the temporary oblivion that comes with losing himself in the warmth of another body. And so, with a determined stride, he pushes open the door.
As Sunghoon strides into the dimly lit bar, the air heavy with the scent of alcohol and anticipation, he feels a rush of excitement course through him. Dressed in a sleek leather jacket that hugs his form, he exudes an air of rugged charm and allure as he scans the room, his eyes alight with anticipation.
The bar is cast in shadows, a dimly lit sanctuary with a retro flair that gives it an air of timeless charm. Neon signs flicker softly against the dark walls, casting a warm, inviting glow over the eclectic mix of patrons. The atmosphere is a blend of nostalgia and mystery, each corner telling a story, each shadow holding a secret. Vinyl records adorn one wall, a nod to the classics, while the low hum of conversation and the clink of glasses provide a steady soundtrack to the night.
A familiar tingle zips through him, it’s an echo of the sensation he felt that first time he crossed the threshold into your apartment, a sense of rightness, of being exactly where he’s supposed to be.
Something shifts inside him. The retro vibe, combined with the sultry air, sets a scene that's both familiar and charged with new energy. Shadows dance across the walls, and the music's pulse syncs with his own heartbeat, signaling a night of unexpected turns.
Amidst the noise and the crowd, Sunghoon spots Nayoung. She's there, laughing, surrounded by friends, exactly where he should want to be. But he doesn’t move towards her. Instead, there's a compelling force, a curiosity leading him elsewhere, towards something—or someone—he hadn't anticipated.
It’s you.
Amongst the faces, yours catches his gaze like a lighthouse in the fog. It's inexplicable, this sudden redirection of his night, his desires. Something inside him has decided, without a word, that the night was never really about Nayoung. It was about discovering what he didn't even know he was looking for—until now.
Perched on the stage, bathed in the soft glow of the neon lights, you exude a magnetic energy that draws him in like a match to its flame. You were breathtaking. Dressed in a mini skirt that accentuates every curve of your ass and thighs, paired with a top that leaves little to the imagination, you radiate confidence and sensuality that leaves Sunghoon spellbound.
For a moment, time seems to stand still as Sunghoon’s gaze locks with yours, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of you. In that instant, he feels a surge of desire unlike anything he’s ever experienced. Who were you? He was sure that you were one of the students at the college, he was sure he had seen you before. He’s just shocked that this is the first time he’s recognising how hot you are.
In that fleeting moment, as Sunghoon's eyes meet yours, time itself seems to pause, the air charged with an electric tension. His gaze, intense and unyielding, speaks of a yearning that goes beyond mere attraction, hinting at depths of desire that are raw and untamed. As your smile fades, replaced by a questioning frown, the atmosphere thickens with unspoken possibilities, a palpable sense of what could be.
The sudden break in your smile sends a pang through Sunghoon, a silent plea for the connection not to sever. The eye contact between you is a live wire, sparking with the potential to ignite. Amidst the crowd, amidst the noise, there's a silent conversation happening, a dance of glances that speaks volumes.
Your mind races with questions. Why was Park Sunghoon here? He was the campus heartbreak and residential fuckboy, the last person you’d expect to see you play. You always assumed no one ever found you interesting so why does his interest seem to settle on you tonight? His reputation precedes him, yet here he is, looking at you with an intensity that suggests a desire for something more profound than his usual pursuits.
You weren't naive, why was he looking at you like he wanted you? Like he wanted to fuck you. Why now? His gaze, laden with an unmistakable intensity, seeks to pierce through the layers, to see beyond the facade everyone else sees.
Your band commands the space. The rhythm is captivating, a vibrant blend of guitar riffs and drum beats that fills the room with an infectious energy. You're on the bass, and it's clear this is a passion. The bass itself is a striking piece, its sleek, polished wood and the smooth curves of its body reflecting the stage lights.
As Sunghoon watches, he can't help but marvel at the skill in your fingers. The way they dance and glide over the strings, with precision and a sort of grace that's both powerful and delicate, stirs something unexpected in him. His gaze fixates on your hands, fingers moving in perfect harmony with the music, and a primal desire ignites within him.
The thought of those talented fingers exploring your own body, tracing every curve and fold, sends a shiver of anticipation down his spine. He imagines the sensation of your touch, firm yet gentle. Lost in the moment, Sunghoon feels a surge of arousal building within him, his breath hitching as he envisions your fingers delving deeper.
What fucks him up even more is when you smile at him, such an innocent smile that makes his chest tighten with an unexpected surge of desire. It's a smile that lights up your entire face, eyes sparkling with warmth and sincerity, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through Sunghoon's veins.
As you lock eyes with him and smile, Sunghoon feels as though the air has been knocked out of his lungs. You look breathtaking, radiant in the soft glow of the stage lights, your beauty almost otherworldly in its intensity. Every curve and contour of your features seems to be highlighted.
You had no idea what he was thinking, so oblivious to the effect you had on him. It was maddening how effortlessly captivating you were, how your mere presence could stir such intense longing within him.
He knows this is wrong, that he shouldn’t be thinking these thoughts, shouldn’t be so turned on by you. Desperately trying to regain control of his thoughts, Sunghoon attempts to focus on the other members of the band. They exude coolness, lost in the music and their own world. But for all their visual appeal, none of them compare to you.
In that moment, Sunghoon finds himself singularly captivated by you, unable to tear his gaze away as he succumbs to the intoxicating allure of your presence.
He’s not the only one. The energy of the room has shifted, centering on your presence on stage. It's palpable, the way you've drawn every eye towards you. You're undeniably magnetic, a fact made evident by the sea of faces turned in your direction, yet what truly fascinates Sunghoon, what truly fucks his mind, is your obliviousness to the effect you're having. You’re just lost in the music, not looking for any approval or basking in the spotlight. This contrast, between how much you stand out and your indifference to it, really catches him.
Though he can't hear your laugh over the music, he sees the way your shoulders shake, the brightness in your eyes, and he knows—it's a sound he wants to discover, to keep. A smile, unbidden, spreads across his face, mirroring the joy he sees in you. It's a strange, fluttery feeling that takes residence in his chest, a sensation both foreign and exhilarating.
Nayoung makes her way through the crowd to him, a knowing smile playing on her lips. She leans in close, her fingers tracing a daring path down his back and over his thighs. Her touch, bold and teasing, makes his heart skip a beat. "You wish that was Y/N touching you, right?" she whispers, her voice a blend of mischief and suggestion.
Turning to face her, Sunghoon's eyes darken, a smoulder of intensity burning within them as he contemplated her words. "Y/N?" The name, unfamiliar and yet suddenly significant, rolls off his tongue.
Nayoung's nod is all the confirmation he needs. "Yeah, she's the one. She's my roommate," she reveals, each word painting a clearer picture in his mind.
"I'm off to Jake's house, but you're staying here, right? Y/N normally walks home from the bar. Maybe you could offer to walk her, maybe keep her company. Our apartment is going to be empty… use your imagination." With a final wink, she slips away.
As Sunghoon steps out into the cool night, he spots you alone under a streetlamp, the smoke from your cigarette curling into the night air. As you take another drag, the ember glows, casting a soft light on your features. He’s mesmerised by the sight, a girl smoking would always be hot to him, the sight of the smoke framing your face proves that. It gives you a mysterious vibe, making you appear all the more captivating and irresistibly sexy in his eyes.
Drawn to you, he moves closer and asks if he can join. Noticing his gaze linger, you offer him a cigarette with a knowing smile. You offer him a cigarette with a knowing smile. As he accepts, your fingers brush against his, sending a jolt of electricity through both of you. There’s a charged energy in the way your gazes lock. As he inhales, his jawline becomes more pronounced, the smoke curling around him like a caress. There’s a deliberate slowness to his exhale, the smoke weaving between you, creating an intimate veil.
As the conversation between you and Sunghoon progresses, you find yourself surprisingly at ease in his presence. Normally, you'd keep your guard up, especially around someone as notorious as Sunghoon, but tonight, there's something different. Before you realize it, you're drawing him in closer, the usual barriers falling away. You might have blamed it on alcohol, but you're sober, leaving the connection between you both intriguingly genuine.
Conversation starts light, with Sunghoon leaning in slightly, the warmth of the moment closing the distance between you. "Watching you tonight… I was taken aback, you’re really good," he says, his voice low and appreciative, tinged with genuine admiration.
You laugh softly, a bit of surprise flickering across your face at his observation. "I just love playing, didn't think anyone actually noticed," you reply, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, a hint of bashfulness in your smile.
"Oh, trust me, it's hard not to notice," Sunghoon continues, his gaze steady on you, making sure you understand he's talking about more than just the music.
You giggle, feeling a mix of flattery and nervousness under his focused attention. "Well, I'm glad you think so. I'm usually just hoping I don't mess up the chords," you respond, trying to maintain a lighthearted tone, even as his compliment sends a warm flutter through you.
"Mess up? I think you could play anything and make it sound incredible," he asserts, a playful yet sincere edge to his words. His flirtatious confidence is smooth, but it's his underlying earnestness that catches you off guard, drawing an unguarded smile from you.
The conversation flows, creating a comfortable yet charged atmosphere. Your laughter comes more easily. With a playful smirk, Sunghoon’s eyes trail down your figure, appreciating the way your tight top accentuates your curves and your skirt hugs your hips and thighs. “You look stunning,” he comments, his tone flirtatious yet respectful.
Blushing at his compliment, you giggle softly and playfully respond, “I thought I looked pretty today.”
Sunghoon’s gaze meets yours, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes as he leans in closer. “You look hot,” he says, his voice dripping with desire, sending a thrill down your spine.
Your cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink as you accept Sunghoon's jacket, letting out a soft giggle that speaks volumes of your appreciation and the fluttering emotions within. "Thank you," you manage to say, your voice light and airy, tinged with a mix of gratitude and a growing warmth that has little to do with the dropping temperatures around you.
The way Sunghoon looked at you changed everything. You had noticed his eyes when you were on the stage and you’re noticing it now. The opinions you had formed about him, the guard you had meticulously built up, the walls you constructed around yourself—all of it began to crumble the moment his gaze met yours. You found yourself inexplicably drawn towards him, a magnetic pull you couldn't resist.
There's just something about him.
There's something about his eyes, particularly striking, that makes it impossible for you to look away. It's as if they hold a depth of understanding and kindness, captivating you, making you feel seen and acknowledged in a way that's disarmingly comforting.
There's something about his smile, too. It's genuine, radiant even, cutting through your defenses as if they were made of paper. His smile seems to speak directly to your soul, warming you from the inside out, and making the corners of your own lips twitch upwards in response.
You can't help but admit, there's something about him—something undeniably compelling that makes you feel like you’re rediscovering something familiar, a connection that's both unexpected and deeply welcome.
You start to shiver, you’re not sure whether it’s because of the weather or how he’s making you feel. Sunghoon, noticing your discomfort, doesn't hesitate. He smoothly takes off his jacket and places it over your shoulders. The sudden warmth from the jacket contrasts sharply with the cool air.
As Sunghoon's jacket settles around your shoulders, the immediate sensation is one of warmth, the material soft against your skin. The jacket, slightly too large, feels like a hug, a protective barrier against the chill. But it's his scent that truly captivates you — infused with notes of wood and spice, subtle yet distinctly masculine.
Sunghoon's gaze inadvertently falls on your arm. There, slightly peeking out from under the fabric, is a tattoo that immediately captures his attention. It's a butterfly, intricately designed, its wings seemingly crafted from delicate wisps of ashes, as if it has risen, reborn from the remnants of a past life. The detail is exquisite, symbolising transformation, resilience, and the beauty of emerging stronger from challenges.
"That's... I have the same tattoo," Sunghoon reveals, his voice tinged with disbelief and a newfound depth of connection.
For a moment, the world seems to pause, the ambient noise of your surroundings fading into the background as you lock eyes. The eye contact is intense, it’s as if the discovery of your matching tattoos has unveiled a deeper layer of understanding, a serendipitous link that neither of you expected but both inherently feel.
The butterfly, for you, symbolizes a journey through personal trials, a testament to the strength it takes to rise anew. For Sunghoon, it represents a parallel path, a reminder of his own resilience and the transformative power of embracing change.
You feel a surge of heat pooling in your core as he shifts slightly, his movements drawing you in closer. “Are you okay with me showing you?” he asks, voice low and husky, dripping with seduction. It sends a rush of heat straight to your core. You narrow your eyes, confused but nod immediately, your chest tightening and your eyes firing when you realise what he means. It’s a tattoo under his shirt, and the thought of him revealing it to you ignites a fiery desire within you.
Your heart races as you meet his gaze, your eyes smouldering with desire. With a deliberate yet sensual touch, you place your hand on his, stopping him from lifting his shirt. “Do you want to come home with me?” you whisper, surprised at how forward you’re being but this feels right. Your voice is laced with longing and need. You can feel the electricity crackling between you, the air thick with anticipation.
A wicked grin spreads across Sunghoon’s lips as he gazes at you, his eyes darkening with desire. “You can show me then. I have a tattoo on my thigh too that I want to show you,” you add, your words sending a surge of arousal through both of you. The tension between you is palpable, the desire for each other burning hotter with every passing moment.
Ultimately, you made the first move. The walk back home was charged with an energy that couldn't be ignored, an undeniable sexual tension that seemed to pull you both closer with every step. Heated glances were exchanged, each look sending a clear message of the attraction between you.
The moment the front door clicked shut, you seized him, your fingers digging into his shirt as you pulled him into you with an urgency that bordered on desperation. His lips crashed against yours like a tidal wave, igniting a firestorm of passion that consumed you both. It was a kiss fueled by the electric charge that had crackled between you since the moment you laid eyes on each other.
His lips were like a drug, intoxicating and addictive, sending shockwaves of desire coursing through your veins. He knew exactly how to move his lips against yours, each brush and caress igniting a blaze of longing deep within you. The taste of him, a heady blend of musk and spice, lingered on your lips, driving you to explore every inch of his mouth.
His tongue traced the outline of your lips with a teasing flick, coaxing them to part with an insistence. His tongue delved deep into the recesses of your mouth, seeking out every hidden corner with an eager hunger. Your tongues tangled together with a longing that left you both breathless. With each stroke and caress, the intensity of the kiss grew.
His arms encircled your waist, pulling you impossibly close until there was no space between you, his body pressing against yours with a delicious urgency. You tangled your fingers in his hair, each touch and pull of his hair igniting a wildfire of need within you.
As you stumbled blindly through the room, knocking over objects in your path, you couldn't bring yourself to care about the mess you left in your wake. You knocked over one of your lego sets, one that took endless hours to build but in that moment, all that mattered was kissing him, the taste of him on your lips, and the overwhelming need that consumed you both.
Sunghoon’s hands are rough and eager as he rips your top off, the fabric tearing with a satisfying sound that echoes in the room. He wastes no time in unzipping your mini skirt, but the tightness proves to be a challenge. You both share a moment of laughter, the sound muffled by your desperate kisses, as he struggles to pull it down your legs.
Giggles mix with moans as you continue to ravage each other. You dragged him impossibly closer, as if trying to meld your bodies together into one. His arms wrapped around you, his hands roaming over your back and shoulders, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
You detach your lips for just a moment, recapturing your breath, then you leap into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist as he lifted you effortlessly off the ground. The sensation of his body against yours was electrifying. Your breath mingled with his, hot and heavy against each other’s mouths as you panted and moaned.
"Who's home?" he breathes out, desperation lacing his words, a different side of him emerging with a heavier, more urgent tone.
"No one. Just us," you reply, your voice a low, throaty moan, thick with desire.
You've heard Chaeyoung talk about her experiences with him, listened to her descriptions of how it felt to fuck him. You knew more about what you were getting yourself into than you let on. She had mentioned how he was softer in the beginning, but that wasn't what you wanted.
"I don't want you to hold back. I don't want you to be soft," you pant out, the words dripping with raw need and insatiable longing. "I want you to fuck me like you mean it," you demand, your voice husky with desire, your eyes blazing with primal hunger.
In response, he lets out a low, primal moan, almost a growl, that resonates deep within you, setting your senses ablaze and igniting a fire in the depths of your core.
He throws you onto the bed, a rush of exhilaration coursing through you as you land with a soft thud. His lips remain locked with yours, refusing to break the connection as he positions himself on top of you.
With a fierce determination, he discards your lace bra and thong, his hands moving with precision and purpose. As you lay exposed before him, you feel the heat in his eyes, a primal desire burning bright as he admires every inch of your bare form. His growl of appreciation sends shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you that can only be quenched by his touch.
Between kisses, he whispers, "You don't know how much I've wanted to see every inch of your skin like this," his tone heavy with longing and anticipation. His lips continue their exploration, leaving you breathless and yearning for more. He murmurs, "I've been thinking about you all night long,"
Between kisses, he whispers, "Thinking about how you'd moan my name as I take every inch of you," his tone heavy with longing and anticipation. "The feeling of your body underneath mine, how it would arch and tremble," he continues, his breath hot against your skin. "Feeling your tight pussy gripping me.” He confesses, his words sending a surge of heat straight to your core.
Your whimper, feeling utterly speechless, yet you manage to muster one pleading request. "Take your clothes off," you whine, pouting as the realisation sinks in that he remains fully clothed against your bare skin.
He responds with a shake of his head, a smile dancing on his lips. "Not now," he murmurs before returning his focus to admiring every inch of your body. "You're so fucking pretty," he purrs, his voice low and husky with desire as he drinks in the sight of you. He groans softly, unable to resist the magnetic pull of your beauty, longing to taste every inch of your skin.
His body presses down against yours with unyielding force, the weight of him grounding you to the mattress. You can feel every contour of his form pressing into you, every muscle tense with desire as he hungrily devours you.
The sensation of him against you is overwhelming, a reminder of his presence as he presses closer, leaving no space between you. Your breath hitches when you feel the unmistakable hardness of his cock rubbing against your thigh, igniting a fire of need within you.
As his lips trail from yours to your neck, he leaves a trail of hot, wet kisses in his wake. Each touch leaves behind a mark of his possession, a hickey to brand you as his own in the heat of the moment.
As his lips trail from yours to your neck, he leaves a scorching path of hot, wet kisses in his wake. His kisses are possessive and rough, each touch a declaration of his dominance as he claims you as his own. With each press of his lips against your skin, he leaves behind a red mark of his possession, his lips tugging at your skin with a delicious mix of pleasure and pain, leaving behind teeth marks that throb with a sensation that borders on ecstasy.
With a lingering kiss that sets your senses ablaze, he teases your lips before trailing down your body with determined intent. Each movement is deliberate, sending shivers of anticipation down your spine.
As he reaches your nipples, he captures them between his lips with a hunger that leaves you breathless. His tongue dances across your sensitive peaks, tracing intricate patterns before swirling around them in long, languid strokes. The sensation is electric, igniting a firestorm of desire deep within you as he sucks and licks with an insatiable hunger.
"Fuck," you moan, your voice dripping with need as he drives you wild with pleasure. "Sunghoon," you urge, your fingers grasping at his hair as you lose yourself in the overwhelming sensation.
"Harder," you demand, your voice laced with desperation as you beg for more of his intoxicating touch. "I need you to make me cum," you whimper, your body arching towards him as he complies with your wishes, his movements growing more urgent with each passing moment and you can’t help but feel his smirk against your skin.
With every tug of his hair, you feel a surge of pleasure coursing through you, intensifying the already overwhelming sensation of his mouth on your nipples. As he trails scorching kisses down your body, every touch sets your skin ablaze with desire, leaving a trail of heat in his wake. His lips linger over every inch of your flesh, igniting a firestorm of need that consumes you from within.
"That's it, good girl, cum for me," he murmurs against your skin, his voice a sultry whisper that sends shivers down your spine. His head rests against your thigh, his gaze locked with yours as he watches you with dazed eyes, the intensity of his stare driving you wild with desire.
"Keep your eyes on me when you cum," he demands, his voice low and deep, sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through you. You whimper in response, your hands trembling as you remove them from covering your face, laying them by your sides as your orgasm approaches rapidly.
As he locks his hands with yours, his touch sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, his fingers coaxing and guiding you towards ecstasy. "Cum all over my tongue, pretty girl, can you do that for me?" he urges, his voice a husky growl that ignites a firestorm of need deep within you.
As the tension coils tighter within you, you feel your release building, a primal urge threatening to consume you entirely. With a tight grip on his hands, you surrender to the overwhelming sensation, your body trembling with anticipation.
The pleasure crashes over you like a tidal wave, your senses overwhelmed as you feel yourself spiraling into ecstasy. Behind closed eyelids, flashes of intense pleasure dance across your vision, colors swirling in a sensation.
He smashes his lips against yours, the kiss suffocating but so hot and heated that it sends a jolt of desire coursing through your veins. As he breaks away from the kiss, his words hang in the air, a response to the desire you had expressed earlier.
You notice a shift in him, a different look in his eyes that sends a thrill of excitement down your spine. There's a hot, intense side to him that you hadn't expected, a side that turns you on more than you could have imagined.
“How do you want me to fuck you?” Sunghoon whispers huskily, his lips trailing languid kisses all over your face.
His gaze softens with anticipation as he waits for your response, and you find yourself ready to comply. You nod eagerly, but he just tuts, wanting a clear answer.
"Tell me what you want me to do to you," he says, his voice a mixture of softness and anticipation, contrasting with the demanding tone in his voice. He's really asking you? You hadn't expected this, never experienced this level of openness and desire before.
"I - I..." you begin, stumbling over your words, unsure how to articulate your deepest desires.
"Baby, don't hold back," he tuts gently, his index finger resting at the bottom of your chin, keeping your gaze locked on his.
"Don't laugh at me," you pout.
"Why would I do that?" His voice deepens, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest as he reassures you with his words.
"I - I want you to be rough," you finally admit, your voice trembling with anticipation. "I want you to slap me, choke me, spit on me. I don't want you to be gentle. I want to see if you live up to the hype of being this 'sex god' that everyone claims you are. I - just do whatever you want to me. Use me and control me."
Your confession leaves you breathless, your heart pounding in your chest as you await his reaction. You gasp in shock at your own words, your eyes widening in disbelief at the boldness of your desires. But as you look into his eyes, you see nothing but desire and hunger reflected back at you, fueling the fire of anticipation burning between you.
His movements are confident and commanding as he grips your chin firmly, forcing you to meet his intense gaze. You dare not look away, captivated by the raw desire burning in his eyes. With his other hand, he traces the curves of your body, his touch rough and demanding, igniting a fire within you.
As his fingers trail lower, teasing your already sensitive peaks, you gasp at the electrifying sensation. A low growl escapes his lips as he feels how wet you already are, his finger slipping effortlessly into your eager heat.
“Fuck, you’re already dripping?” he murmurs, his voice laced with desire and disbelief. “I haven’t even touched you yet, needy slut.”
You moan as his fingers slide effortlessly into your eager heat, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure racing through your body. He doesn't hold back, pushing deeper with each thrust, stretching you to accommodate his every movement. The rough pads of his fingertips brush against your sensitive walls, igniting a firestorm of desire deep within you. You arch your back, offering yourself up to him completely, craving more of his intoxicating touch.
He adds another finger, and then another, the stretch deliciously overwhelming as he fills you completely. You can feel the pressure building, the tight coil of pleasure threatening to unravel at any moment. His pace quickens, his thrusts becoming more urgent and relentless as he drives you closer to the edge. You can't help but cry out, lost in the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body.
With each stroke, he pushes you closer and closer to the brink, until finally, you shatter into a million pieces, waves of ecstasy crashing over you as you succumb to the overwhelming pleasure he's given you.
"I want you to eat me out –" you manage to breathe out, your voice trembling with anticipation and need.
With a hungry glint in his eyes, Sunghoon positions you just how he likes, spreading your legs wide as he settles between them. His touch is demanding, yet precise, as he dips his fingers between your slick folds, reveling in the wetness that greets him. Already, he's moved his head down, and you eagerly cage it between your thighs, your breath hitching in anticipation.
Throwing your legs around his shoulders, you pull him closer, urging him to delve deeper. And delve he does, his tongue tracing intricate patterns along your throbbing heat, each stroke sending jolts of electricity coursing through your body. There's no gentleness in his approach; he's forceful, relentless, determined to devour you whole.
He attacks your clit with fervor, his tongue flicking against it with a ferocity that leaves you gasping for air. His fingers dig into your thighs, holding you in place as he intensifies his assault, his head bobbing between your legs as he drives you to the brink of ecstasy.
"Fuck, you taste so good," he growls against your sensitive flesh, the vibration sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. He's not content until you're a writhing mess beneath him, lost in a sea of pleasure that only he can provide.
Your moans fill the room, broken and desperate, as he takes you higher and higher, pushing you closer to the brink with each skilled stroke of his tongue. But just as you close your eyes to savour the moment, his hand comes down hard on your pussy, giving you a sharp slap. "I told you to look at me when you cum," he growls, his voice a commanding presence that leaves you breathless. You let out a moan, not expecting to be so turned on by this. It sends shockwaves of pleasure radiating through you.
With a small nod, you oblige, opening your eyes to meet his gaze, letting him see the raw, unbridled desire written across your face. You're completely at his mercy, your body aching with need as he continues to devour you with his mouth.
He sucks dry every last drop of your pleasure, his praises ringing in your ears like a symphony of desire.
He presses his lips against your throbbing core with a mouthy and wet kiss. "Good girl," he murmurs, his words a soothing balm to your fractured senses. "Such a pretty cunt," he adds, his voice a husky growl as he admires your pussy.
And as you come down from the dizzying heights of ecstasy, you're left panting and trembling in his arms, completely spent and utterly satisfied.
As Sunghoon pulls back from devouring you, his eyes blaze with unquenchable desire, hungry for more of you. Your body trembles with anticipation, aching for his touch as you meet his intense gaze, silently begging for him to fulfill your craving.
“Please, Sunghoon,” you plead, your voice thick with need, your fingers grasping at the sheets beneath you. “I need you inside me.” His grin is wicked, a mirror of your own desire, as he savors your desperation, relishing the power he holds over you.
“You want me to fuck you, baby?” he purrs, the husky timbre of his voice sending shivers down your spine.
You nod fervently, a smile tugging at your lips as your hands reach for his top, swiftly pulling it over his head. Your fingers trace over his bare chest and abs, the sight of his toned physique eliciting a gasp of admiration. His chest and abs glisten in the dim light, sculpted to perfection, each muscle defined with precision.
Your breath hitches with each passing moment, the ache between your legs growing more insistent with every heartbeat. Fingers trembling, you reach for his belt, your urgency evident in the way you fumble with the buckle. With a swift motion, he pulls it down himself, his boxers following suit, revealing his hardened length. You gasp at the sight, your eyes fixated on his cock as you reach out instinctively. He groans in response, his voice strained with desire as he warns, "Don't, baby. I won't last."
With a primal growl, he positions himself between your parted thighs, his throbbing cock poised at your entrance, close yet agonisingly out of reach. You can see it in his eyes, and the way he's looking at you, he's going to go soft despite his earlier promises of roughness.
As you express your disappointment with a soft whine, he silences you with a gentle shake of his head. "Trust me, baby, I'm big," he whispers in a husky tone, his words sending a thrill through you.
"I don't care. I still want you to be rough with me," you assert, your desire palpable in your voice.
He shakes his head once more. “You don't want me to be too rough for the first time," he explains softly, his eyes filled with tenderness. "Maybe next time," he adds with a teasing wink, prolonging the anticipation as he plays with your desires.
As his lips crash against yours in a breathy kiss, a symphony of moans escapes from the depths of your souls, mingling in the air like sweet melodies of desire. Each touch of his lips against yours ignites a fire within, sending sparks of electricity dancing across your skin. With every exhale, you both moan into each other’s mouth.
He backs away from your lips too early for your liking. With a devious glint in his eyes, he teases, testing your patience and leaving you craving more.
You grow increasingly impatient when he doesn’t move, he smirks, he’s teasing you, testing your patience. Your whimpers become more urgent with each passing moment. “Please,” you beg for any type of movement
But he continues to toy with you, his smirk widening as he revels in your desperation. “I don’t know, should I let you have my cock?” he taunts, his voice dripping with desire and dominance.
You deadpan. “Your cock is literally inside of my vagina right now—”
“Do you really think you deserve it?” he says, his voice low and dark, sending shivers down your spine.
You roll your eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips as you match his tone. You find yourself enjoying the charged atmosphere, how comfortable it feels with him. You find yourself holding back a grin. "I bet you're not even that big," you retort.
“Oh?” he says, a smirk playing on his lips as he closes the distance between you, his gaze burning with intensity.
As he thrusts into you with relentless force, you feel an overwhelming mix of pleasure and discomfort wash over you. His cock is so thick, stretching you to your limits with each deep penetration. You whimper, struggling to adjust to his size, but he shows no mercy, drilling into you with undefeated determination.
His movements are harsh and unforgiving, his hips driving forward with brutal force as he claims you as his own. Each thrust sends shockwaves through your body, leaving you trembling with need. You moan uncontrollably, unable to form coherent words as he pounds into you relentlessly.
“You’re so big,” you manage to gasp out between ragged breaths, your words breathy with a hint of disbelief in your voice as you feel him filling you completely. But his response is cold and mocking.
“You were talking so much shit earlier,” he sneers, his voice dripping with contempt. “Now stay there and fucking take it.”
As his hips collide with yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, a rhythmic symphony of lust and desire. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, your moans echoing off the walls as you surrender to the raw intensity of his touch.
He fucks you with a primal urgency, his movements rough and demanding as he claims you as his own. His cock drives into you with relentless force, stretching you to your limits and filling you completely with each deep penetration. You can feel every inch of him inside you, his hardness pressing against your most sensitive spots and sending waves of ecstasy crashing over you.
His cock pounds into you relentlessly, driving deep into your slick heat with each forceful thrust. You can feel every inch of him stretching you, pushing you to your limits as he claims you as his own. The sensation is overwhelming, a mixture of pleasure and pain that only serves to fuel your desire for more. “More,” you gasp, your voice barely a whisper.
"Beg for it, beg for my cock deeper inside you," he commands, his voice dripping with desire and dominance. As his words hang in the air, you feel his hands gripping your thighs, pulling your legs around his waist. With a swift movement, he positions you exactly how he wants, allowing for deeper penetration and intensifying the sensations between you. This change in angle sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, pushing you both to new heights of ecstasy. With each thrust, he buries himself deeper inside you, his cock filling you completely as you cling to him, lost in the overwhelming pleasure of the moment.
"Harder, please," you plead, your voice trembling with need as you yearn for him to give you everything he's got. Your body craves the intensity of his touch, the roughness of his thrusts driving you wild with desire. You arch your back, offering yourself up to him completely, desperate for him to take you to the brink of ecstasy and beyond.
He obliges, increasing the tempo of his thrusts, his movements becoming more urgent as he drives himself deeper into you. The sound of your moans fills the room, mixing with the sound of skin slapping against skin, loud moans and your headboard creaking.
With each merciless thrust, your body succumbs to the relentless assault, every movement driving you closer to the brink of ecstasy. The raw power of his domination leaves you breathless, your senses consumed by the overwhelming pleasure he bestows upon you. You teeter on the edge of climax, every nerve ending ablaze with desire, craving release like never before.
“I’m gonna cum,” you moan desperately, your plea echoing through the room, but instead of granting you release, he chuckles darkly, a sinister sound that sends a shiver down your spine.
With a cruel twist, he wrenches his cock back, the abrupt movement sending a jolt of pain coursing through you. His gaze is unforgiving, a menacing glint in his eyes as he stares down at you, relishing in your torment. Your whimpers of protest only fuel his cruel pleasure, a smirk playing on his lips as he revels in your frustration.
“You were talking so much shit earlier,” he taunts, his voice dripping with contempt as he watches you squirm beneath him. “Do you think you deserve to cum?” His words are like daggers, each one laced with venom as he taunts and belittles you, his dominance asserting itself with every syllable. “Only good girls deserve to cum.”
Sunghoon’s anger is palpable as he flips you onto your back, the force of his movement taking you by surprise. Your heart races with anticipation, knowing that his roughness is a sign of his frustration. You can feel the tension in the air as he shifts you onto all fours, his movements primal and commanding.
“Spread your legs wider,” he demands, his tone brooking no argument. “That’s it,” he murmurs.
With a primal growl, he positions himself between your legs, his grip on your hips firm and unyielding. “Hold onto the headboard,” he orders, his voice commanding obedience. You obey without hesitation, your nails digging into the wood as he takes you from behind.
Each forceful thrust elicits a gasp from your lips, the intensity of his desire overwhelming your senses. “You like it rough, don’t you?” he taunts, his words punctuated by the sound of skin slapping against skin. “Tell me how much you want it,” he demands, his voice rough with desire.
In the heat of the moment, his anger fuels his actions, his movements rough and unyielding. As he fills you completely, you’re overwhelmed by the sensation, your senses flooded with pleasure. Gasping for air, you’re left breathless, the intensity of his desire consuming you.
Each powerful thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, driving you further toward the edge of ecstasy. Your ass meets his thighs with each forceful movement, the impact sending a shiver down your spine. He takes advantage of your vulnerability, delivering sharp slaps to your pussy, each one igniting a fire within you.
With a forceful grip, he fists your hair back, tilting your head upwards to expose your neck to him. He leaves bruises and hickies along your skin, marking you as his own. His grip tightens, asserting his control over you, his hands roaming possessively over your body.
With a firm grip on your hips, he dictates the rhythm of his thrusts, each one a testament to his dominance. Your arms are held in place, you're left feeling exposed, entirely at his mercy. “I could fuck you like this forever,” he muses in a dark whisper
As he relentlessly pounds into you, his cock stretching you beyond your limits, tears well up in your eyes. The sheer force of his thrusts drives you to the brink of madness, each movement sending waves of both pleasure and pain rippling through your body.
“You really thought you could handle me?” he taunts, his voice dripping with disdain as he continues to ravage you without mercy. His words cut through you like a knife, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable beneath his intense gaze.
Despite the overwhelming sensations coursing through you, there’s a perverse sense of pleasure that accompanies the pain and humiliation. You find yourself surrendering to him completely, lost in the primal rhythm of his thrusts and the raw power he exudes.
Your cries mingle with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, the room filled with the symphony of your shared desire. “That’s it,” he growls, his voice low and menacing. “Take it all”
Each thrust drives you closer to the edge of sanity, your body trembling with the exquisite torment of his rough ministrations. The pleasure-pain dichotomy consumes you entirely, leaving you lost in a haze of ecstasy and agony.
You feel completely overwhelmed by him, your senses drowning in the intoxicating cocktail of desire and desperation. The need to please him at any cost drives you to new heights of submission, your every thought and action dedicated to his satisfaction.
His reaction is one of twisted satisfaction, his grin a sinister reflection of the dominance he wields over you. He takes perverse pleasure in your tears, viewing them as a testament to his power and control. With each sob that escapes your lips, he revels in the knowledge that he holds your very soul in his hands, a willing captive to his every whim.
“I-I’m so close,” you gasp out between ragged breaths, your voice trembling with desperation. “Please, let me cum.”
His response is immediate and commanding. His hands wrap around your throat with a firm grip. As he tightens his hold, you feel a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins, intensifying the sensations overwhelming your body. At the same time, his other hand delivers a sharp, stinging spank to your cheek, sending a jolt of mixed pleasure and pain radiating through you.
“You don’t get to cum until I say so,” he growls, his voice low and authoritative. “Remember that.”
"Please," you beg, your voice strained with desperation. "I need you to cum inside me. Fill me up."
His resolve breaks at your plea, his control slipping as he gives in. Sunghoon ravages you mercilessly, his own release momentarily forgotten as he focuses solely on driving you to the brink of pleasure. His hands roam over your trembling body, his touch igniting sparks of electricity that dance along your skin. He holds you close and with one final thrust, he sends you hurtling over the edge into blissful oblivion.
As the pleasure builds to an unbearable peak, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy. Your body trembles with anticipation, every nerve ending alive with sensation. With a primal cry, you shatter into a million pieces, your orgasm consuming you completely. Waves of pleasure crash over you, leaving you gasping for air as you ride the euphoric high.
Shortly after, with a primal roar, he releases inside you, his hot seed flooding your depths as you both reach the peak of ecstasy together. Waves of pleasure wash over you, leaving you breathless and sated in each other's embrace.
He removes his cock from you, a mixture of wetness and cum slipping out in its wake. With a firm grip, he manhandles you, turning you around to face him. His touch is surprisingly gentle, a complete contrast to the roughness with which he just fucked you. Using his thumb, he wipes away the mascara trailing down your face, his expression softening as he takes in your fucked-out appearance.
Your eyelids droop with exhaustion, but before you can succumb to sleep, he speaks with a gentleness that catches you off guard. "Don't sleep just yet. I need to get you cleaned up." The difference in his tone leaves you feeling dizzy and confused, his soft eyes meeting yours.
Later on, you’re all cleaned up, thanks to him running a bath for you and cleaning your body with your favorite scent of soap. There were lingering kisses and massages, and he even sat in the bath with you, sharing in the intimacy of the moment. Now, you’re in your pajamas, feeling cozy and comfortable, then he asks if he can stay. It’s late so you nod in agreement. That was the only reason. He settles onto your bed, his eyes closing with a contented smile.
But suddenly, you get up, breaking the serene atmosphere. “I need to clean the apartment,” you declare, and he laughs at first, thinking it’s a joke. However, his expression turns serious when he realises you’re not joking.
‘Did the four positions and the five times I made you cum not make you sleepy?’ He questions from behind you.
You turn to him, shaking your head. “It was not four —”
You feel the heat rising to your cheeks as he lists them off. “Missionary, from the back and then against the wall in the shower. You also rode my cock in the shower.’ His words send a shiver down your spine and you gulp. Where did this sex drive come from?
“I just counted, and I made you cum six times,” he adds with a satisfied grin.
You roll your eyes. “Do you count the amount of times you’ve made a girl cum for every girl you sleep with?”
He winks, his voice bringing chills to your spine. “Only you.”
As he leans down beside you, your heart skips a beat. “What do you need help with?” he asks, his gaze locking deeply with yours. Despite the tired lines etched on his face, he alludes such an effortless attractiveness. He was incredibly magnetising and radiant, basking in a sex afterglow.
Your voice is soft and gentle as you speak. “We dropped so many lego sets… I could do with some help putting them back together.”
He smiles warmly and nods, his tired eyes twinkling with affection. "Let's do it."
As you both delve into the intricate world of Lego, your fingers deftly reassembling the scattered pieces, you find yourself opening up to Sunghoon in a way you never have before.
“You know… no one ever wants to build them with me, this is quite surprising,” you admit, your eyes fixated on the task at hand.
He hums in response, his attention fully captured by your words. “It’s not common for people in their 20s to be into Lego,” he remarks, his tone tinged with curiosity.
As you delve into the details of your Lego collection, Sunghoon’s genuine interest shines through. He listens intently as you recount the origins of each set, marking the first time you’ve shared this hobby so thoroughly. “I got this one from a fair I went to when I was 12, my uncle got me this one, Nayoung got me this one,” you explain, a nostalgic smile playing on your lips.
His curiosity peaks as he spots a rare Lego set on your shelf, one he surprisingly recognizes by name. “How the fuck did you get that one?” he asks, pointing directly at it.
You respond with a deadpan expression, “I camped out at 3am in the winter to get it.” The absurdity of the situation hits both of you at once, sparking uncontrollable laughter.
Sunghoon, catching his breath, manages to say, “Tough,” with a mix of admiration and amusement in his voice.
“Did anyone get you this one?” Sunghoon points at a very rare and expensive set, his eyes glowing with awe. It’s one that was already made, one of your prized possessions, you were glad it was still in tact.
You giggle, a smile lighting up your face as you give him the go-ahead to touch it. You don’t let anyone touch your Lego collection. Especially that set.
An immediate smile lights up your face, and you nod. “Sunwoo got me that one,” you say, relishing the memory. It was one of his random gifts, one that cheered you up when you needed it most.
“Kim Sunwoo? You’re friends with him?” Sunghoon’s curiosity peaks, his surprise at the mention of Sunwoo not shocking you.
You nod. “My best friend.”
“You seem really different from each other,” Sunghoon observes.
“We are,” you agree. It’s a common observation, one that you’ve heard countless times before. Sunwoo spends his time getting high and indulging in casual sex; he’s the ultimate fuck boy. But despite his wild ways, he’s also your best friend. He’s intense, but you need him in your life. “People say opposites attract, we balance each other out well. Plus, I’ve known him since we were kids.”
“Are you trying to tell me that you don’t spend your time getting laid because the things you were doing when we were fucking… it takes experience to —”
You interject with a soft whisper, “I’m not a virgin.” You anticipate a reaction from him, but he surprises you by simply smiling and nodding in acknowledgment.
“It was clear when I was fucking you,” he explains calmly, “I could tell it wasn’t your first time.”
Your laughter fills the room, accompanied by a blush coloring your cheeks. “It’s just that there’s a ridiculous rumor that goes around that I’m some Christian girl who’s waiting until marriage and that I’m untouched when it’s not true.”
Sunghoon’s curiosity persists. “Why did that rumor start?”
Shrugging slightly, you respond, “I don’t even know… I guess people just see me as a quiet and shy person and automatically equate that to me being innocent and clueless. I’m very private; I keep my sexual life on the low. I don’t gossip about it or talk about things like that openly, even to my closest friends. They’re my best friends, so they know I’ve had sex before, but they still join in on the joke that I’m a Christian virgin just to wind me up.”
As Sunghoon hums thoughtfully, you sense his presence beside you, his silence speaking volumes. Despite not responding verbally, you know he's listening intently, absorbing every word you say. His attentive demeanour reassures you, reminding you that he's there, fully engaged in the conversation. It's a rare quality that you appreciate, his ability to be present and attentive without the need for constant verbal affirmation.
“Why did you start playing bass?” Sunghoon’s question catches you off guard, his gaze lingering on the eccentric blue bass in the corner of the room in a way that makes your head spin.
You can’t help but giggle at his curiosity. “I was kinda forced to, actually.”
“Really?” His surprise is evident in his voice.
You nod, recalling how Sunwoo had roped you into joining his band. “It’s Sunwoo’s band, and he needed a bass player. He decided it was going to be me, so he taught me how to play. He’s very serious about his band, you know. His major is music, so it makes sense. Sunwoo’s good at everything. He can sing, rap, dance, and play any instrument. I’m the bassist in the band, but he’s better than me at playing it.”
Sunghoon shakes his head with a smile. “Don’t say that. You’re such a natural at playing bass.”
You offer him a grateful smile in return, touched by his compliment.
“I didn’t see Sunwoo at the gig, though,” Sunghoon observes, his gaze lingering on your face.
“Or Winter,” you add, a burst of laughter escaping your lips. Sunghoon’s eyebrow quirks up in confusion.
“She’s our main vocalist and plays piano. She wasn’t there either because Sunwoo was balls deep inside of her,” you explain, amusement evident in your voice. “She’s our fifth main vocalist, and we’re probably gonna need to replace her soon. Sunwoo keeps fucking the main vocalists in the band, and they always leave because it makes everything awkward and tense.”
Sunghoon shakes his head, a wry smile playing on his lips. “Sounds like him.”
You nod in agreement, a knowing look passing between you. “He can’t keep his fucking cock in his pants. Always has to go fuck the woman in the group.”
Sunghoon chuckles in response, the sound warm and genuine.
You and Sunghoon have been talking for what felt like hours.
The ease of conversation made it feel like you've known each other for much longer. You didn’t expect to have so much in common with him, you didn’t expect the conversation to flow as smoothly as it did, you also didn’t expect for him to actually stay, especially after you had finished having sex.
His confidence and appeal enhance the atmosphere. Sunghoon's casual demeanor sets the tone the moment he begins to speak, his confidence is almost dripping from him, as if it's part of the very air around him. He's got this cool, laid-back vibe that's utterly captivating, standing here in your apartment as if it's the most natural thing in the world.
Sunghoon's gaze holds yours, an unspoken intensity lingering in the way he looks at you. There's an undeniable attractiveness in his focus, in the deliberate way he gives you his undivided attention. Each time he listens, it's with an intensity that makes the moment stretch, filling it with an undeniable tension.
His eyes, expressive and deep, seem to capture and reflect every flicker of emotion, making the connection between you feel both electrifying and profoundly intimate. His smile, when it breaks, is like a slow dawn, gradually illuminating his features and warming the space between you.
You bond about little things but in retrospect they were big, they were such specific and unique things, things that were so special to you.
You give him a tour of your apartment, showing him around with a sense of pride. Each room holds a piece of you, and you’re eager to share it with him. As you lead him through the space, you point out your prized possessions, sharing the stories behind each one.
“This is where I keep my vinyl collection,” you explain, gesturing towards a shelf filled with records. He pauses, running his fingers over the sleek covers with a sense of appreciation.
“Your taste is… amazing.”
He believes in those words even more when you show him your book collection, you're surprised to find that Sunghoon has read them all. You point out one of the most important books to you, ‘A Thousand Splendid Suns’ and as you're about to recite your favourite line, he says it at the same time as you. “One could not count the moons that shimmer on her roofs, or the thousand splendid suns that hide behind her walls.” you both say in unison, the words echoing in the room.
The eye contact that follows is strong and intense, making you feel weak in the knees. You want to look away, but you can't tear your gaze from his. He's captivating, and in that moment, you feel a magnetic connection that transcends words.
You sit surrounded by your closest friends in a secluded corner of the student lounge. You and Eunji are working on university assignments and projects, both studying musical arts. The steady hum of youthful chatter and the clatter of laptop keys fail to distract you. You’re here but you’re not really here. The noise around you fades into the background as thoughts of Sunghoon consume your mind every time you close your eyes.
Your mind relentlessly replays the sensation of Sunghoon's lips against yours, the way his hands explored every inch of your body, and the intensity in his eyes as he gazed at you. The memory of his touch lingers, leaving you dazed and confused. And then there's his cock, thick and pulsating with desire, the mere thought of it sending a shiver down your spine. It's as if his presence has etched itself into every corner of your mind, dominating your thoughts and leaving little room for anything else.
You try to push the memories aside, to focus on the task at hand, but it's no use. His image, his touch, his presence, his lips—it all feels so real. To make matters worse, Eric and Nayoung keep probing and probing.
“Y/N!!!!!” Nayoung interrupts your thoughts. “Are you ready to tell us what happened last night?” she asks with a mischievous wink, raising her eyebrows suggestively, and you immediately understand the implication. You discretely shush her, promising to tell her later, not wanting to draw attention, but nothing ever slips past Eric’s sharp eyes.
As you’re grappling with the weight of your previous conversation, Sunwoo walks in, offering what you hope might be a timely distraction.
The moment he enters, you shoot him an accusatory glare. “You left me and Eric stranded yesterday! We had to find two people willing to perform with us last minute,” you scold, your frustration evident in your tone.
Sunwoo shrugs nonchalantly. “Yeah, I was balls deep inside of Ryujin,” he says casually, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world.
You turn to him, tutting and shaking your head in disbelief. But deep down, you’re not truly surprised. “Really? Again?” you sigh, knowing all too well the consequences of Sunwoo’s actions.
Ryujin, the lead vocalist and keyboard player in your band, was now the latest victim of Sunwoo’s need of fucking the lead vocalists. It has become a recurring theme in your band’s history. Sunwoo's habit of sleeping with the lead vocalists inevitably leads to their departure from the band, as they realize he's only interested in a fling without any emotional attachment.
There had been four lead vocalists before Ryujin who had left for the same reason, and now she was the fifth. It was a cycle that seemed impossible to break, it was annoying but it was pretty funny.
“Pay up,” Eric demands, holding out the money jar to Sunwoo. With a roll of his eyes, Sunwoo begrudgingly adds a £5 note to the jar, another contribution to Eric’s growing collection of Sunwoo’s indiscretions.
Sunwoo lets out a deep sigh, his head tilting back against the cool wall with a suggestive noise that’s entirely inappropriate for 8 AM on a Monday morning. He’s always horny, he was missing Ryujin, missing her pussy.
The brief distraction provided by Sunwoo’s antics quickly fades as Eric, always persistent, picks up the previous line of questioning. He laughs loudly, turning to face you with an expression that feels a bit too much like an interrogation. You brace yourself, knowing exactly where he’s heading with this.
Eric lets out a loud laugh, turning to you like it was an an interrogation, letting you know he wouldn’t drop it you instantly know what he’s going to say. “Where did you run off to after the gig?” he questions, but before you can respond, he answers for you. “I did see a certain Park Sunghoon checking you out.”
Silence fills the room, and then Nayoung screams in excitement. “They fucked!!! They had sex!!! Look, it’s all over Y/N’s face, she’s practically basking in the afterglow of Park Sunghoon’s massive cock.”
The room erupts into laughter, and you can feel your cheeks burning with embarrassment as everyone turns their attention to you, leaving you wishing for the floor to swallow you whole.
You groan and sit there silently, wearing a defeated expression as Eric and Nayoung exchange comments and jokes, teasing you mercilessly. Sunwoo, however, remains silent, his expression unreadable as always, leaving you feeling perplexed by his demeanour.
He turns to face you subtly, and all he says is, “Really?” before breaking into a smirk.
You shoot Sunwoo a deadpan look. “You’re not allowed to judge me. You keep fucking our lead vocalists out of the group!”
As Sunwoo is about to defend himself, Eric’s playful smirk and words cut him off. “Hey, missed a spot?” he quips, at first you narrow your eyes in confusion but then you gulp when you realise he’s talking about the concealer on your neck. A suggestive grin plays on his lips. “Need some help covering up all those hickeys Sunghoon left all over your neck? I’m sure Nayoung has some concealer in her bag.”
You shoot him a warning look, shushing him with a nervous glance around the room. “Keep it down, Eric,” you hiss, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “People could be listening.”
Nayoung, always one to push boundaries, takes it a step further. “Hey, do you need to order a new bed frame?” she asks innocently, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “I’m sure yours has broken after Sunghoon fucked you in it all night long.”
Eric's teasing hits a nerve, and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks. "Seriously though, I heard that you were moaning like a bitch in heat," he says with a sly grin, his words laced with mischief.
You roll your eyes, trying to brush off his remarks. "You weren't even there," you retort, hoping to shut down the conversation before it escalates any further.
But Eric wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. "Oh, did you want me to be there? To watch?" he asks, his tone playful yet suggestive. "I didn't have you down as a kinky bitch, Y/N," he adds with a smirk, clearly enjoying getting under your skin.
You huff in frustration. "Oh? You don't want me to watch but to join in? I'm down! And so is Sunghoon, I heard he lost his virginity to not one girl but two girls... at the same time," Eric continues, his grin widening at the shocked expression on your face.
“That’s not true, he lost it to Arin. But he’s been in plenty of threesomes and orgies too,” Nayoung drops casually, her knowledge of everyone’s secrets almost uncanny. She even knew about your first time, despite your best efforts to keep it private.
“Arin?” you respond, taken aback. “Isn’t she the one from our classes with that angelic voice?”
“Yeah she studied music and she’s also a bitch,” Nayoung doesn’t hold back.
You huff. “Really? She looks quite sweet.”
“She’s got talent, sure, but she’s like a snake. All sweet to your face then she strikes when you’re not looking,” she continues with a grimace.
“You’re just pissed because after you fucked Sunghoon, he ghosted you,” Sunwoo chimes in, unable to resist teasing her.
“Why did he ghost you?” you ask, intrigued by the drama unfolding.
“Because he went back to fucking Arin,” Nayoung says, a hint of bitterness in her voice.
You scratch your neck, ignoring this sinking feeling. “Did they ever actually date?”
Nayoung shrugs. “I don’t think they dated, just fucked. But she’s been the one constant in his bed. Seems like they’re casual fuck buddies, on and off whenever it suits them.”
Sunwoo’s expression catches you off guard, his eyebrows arching in genuine confusion. “Y/N? Are you jealous?” he probes, clearly trying to understand your reaction.
Quick to dispel any misconceptions, you respond firmly, making sure there’s no room for doubt. “No! We only had sex, nothing else. There’s nothing to be jealous over,” you assert, hoping to shut down any further speculation about your feelings towards the situation.
However you can’t supress the swirls of discomfort and confusion inside you, unsettling you more than you'd like to admit. Arin’s history with Sunghoon, something intense and vaguely defined, gnaws at your peace, leaving you to wonder about the legitimacy of your feelings. Was it valid for you to even be jealous?
But as these thoughts churn, the lounge's doors swing open, and a group of engineering students enters, breaking your inward spiral. Sunghoon is among them, still dressed in his work attire—an apron dusted from a practical session, and a tool belt loosely hanging around his hips. The engineering gear marks a stark contrast against the casual styles of your graphic tee and jeans, emphasising the divide between your worlds.
Your eyes instinctively find him as he walks in. He's laughing with his friends, completely at ease, seemingly untouched by the intense sex you had just hours ago. He looks so calm, so put together. It's as if he's able to effortlessly recompose himself, while you're still reeling from the memories and his touch. It’s as if the night you shared was just another ordinary event for him.
As Sunghoon adjusts his apron, a simple yet deliberate action, your gaze inevitably travels to his hands—those same hands that had so expertly explored the depths of you just hours earlier. The casual way he shifts the strap of his tool belt, his fingers brushing against the coarse fabric, vividly conjures memories of how those very fingers had traced your curves and navigated your folds in a way that left you breathless. The memory of his touch, precise and bold, sends a wave of warmth flooding your cheeks, your body involuntarily responding to the mere thought of his proximity.
He casually stretches his fingers, the joints clicking softly in the quiet of the lounge. The sound, distinct and resonant, wasn't loud enough to be heard by others, but your focus is entirely on him. To you, the soft click echoes significantly, a subtle reminder of the way those fingers had moved with such deliberate intent, exploring and memorising every contour of your body with a precision that left an indelible mark on your senses.
Your gaze can't help but follow the motion of his hands up to his forearms. His sleeves are pushed up slightly, revealing forearms marked by prominent veins that stand out against his skin, tracing paths of strength and vitality. These are the arms that had held you with a confident, yet gentle touch, their power barely restrained as they explored you. The casual way he shifts the strap of his tool belt, his fingers brushing against the coarse fabric, each movement of his hands, the visible veins pulsing slightly with each flex, brings back a rush of sensations, the memory of his touch—both precise and bold—sending a wave of warmth flooding your cheeks.
Caught in this reverie, you almost miss the moment he looks up. His eyes meet yours, and for a suspended heartbeat, the world around you blurs into insignificance. His gaze holds a depth that reflects a shared history, mirroring the intensity of your intimate encounter. It's a knowing look, laden with an unspoken promise, silently communicating that he recalls every detail just as vividly as you do.
Eric’s voice breaks through, calling out, “Hey, Sunghoon!” He motions for him to come over.
As Sunghoon approaches, the simple tee visible beneath his partly open engineering apron catches your eye again. The initials ‘P.S.’ are neatly embroidered on the pocket, adding a personal touch to his otherwise utilitarian outfit. With each step he takes, it seems as though the room rearranges itself to accommodate the energy he brings. Despite there being an empty seat next to Nayoung, Sunghoon bypasses it, choosing instead the space directly beside you. It's a deliberate choice, requiring him to traverse around the table from where he started, signalling his intent to be as close to you as possible.
As he settles down, his body exudes a warmth you can feel even before he fully sits. The proximity is almost too much to handle, his scent—a rich blend of brown sugar, cinnamon, and a hint of citrus, underlined by a masculine note of metal and solder from his engineering lab—fills your senses, making your breath hitch. The unique aroma is both comforting and intoxicating, distinctly Sunghoon, and unmistakably alluring. The scent takes you back to mere hours before when you both had fucked.
His knee brushes against yours as he adjusts in his seat, the simple touch sending a jolt through your body. You catch your breath, your attempt to focus on anything else utterly futile. Sunghoon is here, right next to you, and every fibre of your being is acutely aware of his nearness.
Beside you, Eunji leans closer, her expression a mix of amusement and concern. "You okay?" she whispers, noticing the sudden pallor that has overtaken your features. You manage a nod and offer her a shaky smile, trying to mask the turmoil inside.
As Eric yaps on and on, you find his voice a magnetic force. Just focus on Eric, you repeat internally, seeking any lifeline to distract you. But Sunghoon’s presence is a force impossible to ignore. He leans closer, his body shifting just enough so his knee presses gently against yours under the table.
The subtle contact sends a shiver up your spine as he leans in, his voice a low whisper meant only for your ears, "I didn’t know you were interested in Eric." His words, edged with a teasing undertone, jolt you. The closeness of his mouth to your ear, the warmth of his breath, it all muddles your thoughts
"I… um, he’s fascinating," you reply, your voice a hushed stutter, drowned out almost entirely by the pounding of your heart.
Sunghoon pulls back slightly, his eyes holding yours in a steady, penetrating gaze that seems to delve deeper than the casual jest warrants. He nods, a slow, thoughtful movement, but the intensity doesn't wane. His eyes linger, searching, as if trying to read the unspoken feelings you're struggling so hard to mask.
“Are your legs okay?” Sunghoon asks, his tone serious but with an unmistakable undertone of teasing—a playful provocation he seems unable to resist.
You swallow hard, the sudden dryness in your throat making it difficult to speak. With a slight tremor in your voice, you whisper back, “Yeah.”
“Are you sure?” His smile is soft yet knowing, as he leans in closer, his voice dropping to a breathy whisper. Then, almost as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, his hand finds its way to your thigh. His fingers gently press into your skin, starting a slow, deliberate massage that sends waves of both comfort and electric tension through your body.
His eyes lock with yours, holding the gaze intensely. The world around you seems to blur into the background, all sounds fading away except for the intimate space he’s created. As his hand moves subtly, the connection deepens, communicated through that steady, penetrating eye contact that says more than words ever could.
"What are you thinking about?" he asks, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down your spine.
You offer a shy and closed-off response, "Nothing much." But the truth is, your mind is racing with thoughts of him-his touch, his scent, the way he made you feel.
"What about you?" you ask, trying to gauge his thoughts.
With a devilish grin, he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "I can't stop thinking about the way your pussy clenched around my cock when you came. I also can’t get over how good your ass looked bouncing on my cock.” He whispers, his voice dripping with desire.
As Sunghoon's words swirl around you, suffocating you with their intensity, you gasp for air, feeling the tight grip of panic clenching your chest. Your fingers tighten around the coffee cup, the ceramic surface offering a fleeting sense of stability amidst the whirlwind of sensations. Each breath feels strained, as if the air itself has thickened, making it difficult to draw in the oxygen your body craves. Despite the burning embarrassment prickling at your skin, you cling to the mundane act of sipping your drink, a feeble attempt to anchor yourself.
Sunwoo speaks up from beside you, thankfully shifting the atmosphere with a different topic. "Guys... we need to host auditions for a new lead singer," he announces, clicking off his phone before flicking his eyes between you and Eric, signalling the urgency of the situation.
Nayoung can't help but burst into laughter at Sunwoo's statement. "He's fucked Ryujin so hard she found her way out of the band," she jokes, her comment cutting through the seriousness with her typical irreverence. Her laughter echoes around the group, lightening the mood and drawing a collective chuckle that momentarily dispels the heaviness in your heart.
You’re all in the campus’ performance hall, Spotlights illuminate the stage, casting a warm glow over the polished wooden floors and plush red curtains. You, Sunwoo, and Eric are perched in the judges’ area, positioned strategically to catch every nuance of the performances.
Suddenly, Nayoung rushes into the room with a tray of four steaming coffees, her hurried steps echoing against the polished floor. “I’m sorry I’m late! I’m here now, let’s start!” She shouts as a strand of hair escapes from her bun, framing her delicate features in a soft halo of morning light. Her beauty is striking, even in the early hours of the day. There's an effortless elegance to her appearance, from the way her eyes sparkle with warmth to the curve of her lips as she smiles apologetically.
Nayoung wasn’t a member of the band, and she never had been nor probably ever would be, but she relished the opportunity to judge people, which explained why she always ended up as a judge alongside you, Sunwoo, and Eric.
“Guys, the auditions are starting,” Eric says.
The first person walks in, accompanied by two others. “I thought we were auditioning for a female lead vocalist?” you mumble, confused. But Eric just claps his hands together, excited for what’s to come.
“We’re the Foreign Swaggers,” one of the guys introduces the group name.
“Guys, you know we’re looking for one female lead vocalist, and you guys—” You’re interrupted by Mark Lee, known for being one of the best students in the music department. You know him, you’ve seen him at some parties, he’s friends with Donghyuc who was friends with Sunwoo. Mark was notorious for his talent and popularity among the girls.
“Alright, guys, what’s up,” Mark starts, a hint of nervousness in his voice.
“Yeah,” Jaehyun adds, trying to sound confident.
“What’s up,” Johnny chimes in, his tone more relaxed.
“We’re the, uh— we’re the, uh— Foreign Swaggers,” Mark stutters, trying to maintain composure.
“So, yeah, uh— Johnny’s gonna rap,” Johnny declares.
“I lived in America for four years! That’s why I’m here, man!” Jaehyun boasts.
The audition starts with a beatbox, followed by some mediocre rapping at best. They’re awkward, but there’s a certain charisma about them.
However, Sunwoo cuts them off as soon as their performance ends, not even bothering to judge them. “That’s it, you can go now.” he says hastily, signalling for them to leave.
You were about eight people in, and no one had impressed you yet. No one seemed to fit the image of your band, and you were starting to lose hope. Then, Hwang Yeji walked in, and your eyes lit up, though not as much as Eric and Sunwoo’s. You side-eye them and roll your own eyes, especially as you catch a glimpse of something very familiar in Sunwoo’s eyes—the fire and hunger.
Yeji introduces herself sweetly, with the most beautiful smile and laugh. You hope she can sing well, as visually she matches the image of your band very well. You let out a sigh of relief when she does sing, and she’s really good. Her voice is perfect, and you can already see her in the band.
“I’ve found the voice of an angel. I’ve fallen in love,” Sunwoo breathes heavily, his typical behaviour not surprising you in the least.
“You should view the auditions objectively. You shouldn’t let personal feelings get in the way of your judging,” you say, smirking.
“Shut up,” he replies hastily, unable to deny the truth in your words.
You’re taken aback by the look of genuine admiration in Sunwoo’s eyes. Could it be that he’s actually serious about his feelings for once? You’ve known Sunwoo long enough to recognize when he’s being sincere, and this time, it feels real.
After Yeji finishes her audition, a serene silence envelops the room, filled with admiration and appreciation for her talent. Sunwoo seems ready to offer her the role of lead vocalist on the spot, but you intervene before he can speak.
“Wait,” you interject, ignoring Sunwoo’s eagerness and turning to Yeji with a warm smile. “There’s one more person who wants to audition. Let’s hear her out before making a decision.”
You can feel Sunwoo’s frustration, but you know it’s important to give everyone a fair chance, even if Yeji seems like the perfect fit.
Your heart sinks when you see who walks in
—it's Arin. An unsettling feeling washes over you, stirring up uncertainty that you try to push away, but it lingers like a stubborn shadow. She's so radiant and beautiful, exuding an energy and light that's hard to ignore. You understand why she's so popular; she's captivating in every way.
Of course, you know who she is—someone in the
year above, who seems to have a magnetic pull on everyone around her. All the guys are crazy for her, drawn to her like she's the centre of gravity in the room. And it's not just the guys; even Sunwoo and Eric seem infatuated by her presence, their eyes lingering on her like she's the only thing in the room.
She's sweet, with an infectious laugh and a presence that commands attention. She's the girl every guy wants to fuck and every girl wants to be.
And apparently, she has a beautiful singing voice too?
She's good. Really good. Her voice is like an angel's, filling the room with a captivating melody that earns her instant appreciation from everyone present.
You scoff and shoot a sideways glance at Sunwoo, muttering, "She's so bad."
He just smirks and shakes his head, clearly disagreeing with you. "She's definitely not," Eric chimes in, his voice laced with a dreamy quality that seems to be a common affliction among the guys in the room. Arin has this effect on every single one of them.
Nayoung smirks knowingly and teases, "I thought you didn't care about Sunghoon fucking her?"
You huff in response, denying any emotional investment in the matter. But no matter how much you try to defend yourself, it's clear that they all think your judgement is clouded by the rumour about Sunghoon and Arin.
Sunwoo remarks, "You should view the auditions objectively... You shouldn't let personal feelings get in the way of your judgement," he smirks, a reference to your previous words.
As the crisp autumn evening settled over the campus, the university art gallery was abuzz with activity, its warmly lit interior casting a welcoming glow through the expansive glass doors. Tonight, it hosted the annual student art exhibition, a highlight for the arts department and an event that drew a crowd of eager students, local art enthusiasts, and faculty alike.
You, dressed in a favourite band tee that had seen better days and comfortable, well-worn jeans, felt a surge of excitement as you stepped into the gallery with Nayoung at your side. Your casual outfit, coupled with a pair of sturdy sneakers, was perfect for an evening spent on your feet, moving from one display to another.
As you adjusted the strap of your camera bag and pulled out your camera, the bustling art gallery buzzed around you. “Smileee,” you called out to Nayoung, who obliged with a fake grin and a thumbs-up. You rolled your eyes, she did not want to be here. She looked hot though, styled in her black mini dress and brown leather jacket
As you entered the gallery, the air was filled with the murmurs of impressed spectators and the soft, jazzy undertones of background music that added a sophisticated touch to the evening. The exhibition space was vibrant and packed, walls adorned with an array of artworks that ranged from abstract paintings to complex sculptures and daring installations.
Your eyes widened with genuine appreciation as you took in the scene. The exhibition was a canvas of creativity, each piece telling its own vivid story. Driven by your innate love for art, you began to ramble enthusiastically about the techniques and hidden meanings behind various artworks, pointing out the bold strokes and intricate details that might escape the untrained eye.
Nayoung, trailing slightly behind, matched your pace but not your enthusiasm. Her responses were polite, nodding along and offering the occasional “that’s really cool” or “wow,” though it was clear that her interest lay more in the social than the artistic aspects of the event. Despite this, she was there for you, you had dragged her here.
As you delved deeper into the nuances of a particularly captivating installation—a mixed media piece that utilised recycled materials to comment on consumer culture—Nayoung’s attention occasionally drifted. She was more absorbed in scanning the crowd, perhaps looking for familiar faces or simply taking in the overall ambiance.
You couldn’t help but launch into detailed explanations as you moved from one artwork to another, your enthusiasm bubbling over. “See the way the light is captured here?” you pointed out, gesturing toward a series of dramatic black-and-white photographs that explored the interplay of shadow and light. “It’s all about the angle and timing, which is something we discuss a lot in my music composition classes, except we’re capturing sound, not light.”
Nayoung trailed beside you, her interest clearly elsewhere. With a drink already in hand, thanks to the small flask she'd pulled from the pocket of her leather jacket, she took occasional sips, her other hand frequently fishing her phone out to check messages or scroll through her feed.
"Do you ever get tired of talking about brush strokes?" Nayoung teased, an exasperated but playful tone in her voice as she watched you analyze yet another painting. Her question hung in the air, punctuated by her taking another discreet sip from her flask.
Throughout the evening, Nayoung seemed more intent on steering the conversation away from art and towards more personal topics. "So, let's talk about Sunghoon," she says with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
You sigh inwardly, already anticipating where this conversation is headed. "No," you reply bluntly, hoping to steer the discussion away from your private life.
But Nayoung is undeterred. "Yes!" she insists, her tone teasing.
"So, in what position did he fuck you? How big is his cock?" she asks with a playful smirk, taking a sip of her drink.
You can't help but laugh at her audacity. "Nayoung, you've literally had sex with him. You know how big his cock is," you retort, rolling your eyes.
She tuts mockingly. "Who said I was looking?"
You shoot her a skeptical look. "If I tell you, will you finally leave me alone?" you challenge.
Nayoung nods eagerly, but you can tell she's not entirely sincere in her promise.
"We did it in missionary," you lie smoothly, not wanting to divulge too much. "And his cock? It's about two inches bigger than Eric's," you add truthfully.
Nayoung nearly chokes on her drink, her eyes widening in surprise. "It's that big?" she exclaims, clearly impressed.
You lean in closer, whispering, "You know how big it is! You fucked him too!"
Despite her promise to drop the subject, Nayoung continues to pester you, her questions becoming more probing with each passing moment.
"How was it? Did you feel anything when having sex with him? Anything deeper?" she inquires, her gaze fixated on you with an intensity that makes you uncomfortable.
You shake your head firmly, maintaining your composure. "Absolutely nothing," you lie smoothly, not yet ready to divulge the details of your encounter with Sunghoon-especially not the parts that still make your heart race just thinking about them.
While you were mid-sentence, breaking down the complexity of an abstract painting that caught your artistic eye, a movement at the entrance abruptly halted your train of thought. Sunghoon strolled in, he was impossible to miss, He had shifted the room's focus. He moved with an unassuming confidence that drew looks from every corner, a quiet testament to his presence. You watched, just for a moment, as all eyes flickered toward him.
He wore a plain white tee that seemed to accentuate his toned figure, paired with jeans that fit just right. His hair, effortlessly swept back, gave him a look that was both polished and carefree. Jake, his best friend, was by his side, the light catching his blonde hair, a relaxed figure in his hoodie. But it was Sunghoon who had stolen the moment, his mere presence causing your heart to skip a beat and your words to stumble into silence.
Reacting instinctively, you reached out and clasped Nayoung’s arm, diverting her mid-chuckle into a quick detour. “Let’s check out the sculptures,” you said hastily, feeling the weight of Sunghoon’s unintended intrusion tighten around your chest as you steered both yourself and Nayoung toward a distant corner of the gallery.
Concealed behind the angular shadows of a towering metal sculpture, you and Nayoung stood secluded from the gallery’s hum. Its cool, hard surface offered a strange comfort, a silent ally amidst the turmoil within you. Nayoung’s face, usually so composed, now mirrored concern. “Why are you hiding from him? Haven’t you talked to Sunghoon since that night?” Her voice, though soft, seemed to fill the entire space around you.
Leaning against the sculpture’s chill offered a small reprieve, its coldness a stark counter to the warmth flushing your skin. Words felt like distant things, hard to grasp, harder to voice. You responded not with words but with a faint shake of your head, the motion carrying the weight of unspoken confessions.
“Y/N, this is messy,” Nayoung said, her voice layered with a mix of reprimand and concern.
“He messages me,” you found your voice, albeit shaky, “tries to talk to me, to come up to me on campus.” The words felt heavy, laden with a confusion that seemed to cloud your thoughts.
Nayoung’s smile flickered with a glimmer of hope. “That’s good, right? It means he’s interested in you,” she reasoned, her smile fading into a frown as she caught the turmoil twisting your features.
You sucked in a breath, feeling trapped in the sculpture’s cast shadow, a dim refuge from the gallery’s soft lights. “I don’t know how to face him,” you admitted, your whisper barely rising above the hush of distant conversations. “That night was overwhelming, and now… now I’m just lost.”
“Why are you so scared if that night meant nothing to you?” Nayoung probed gently, her fingers interlacing with yours in a solid, warm grip.
You covered your face with your free hand, rubbing at your eyes as if you could wipe away the uncertainty. “I don’t know what it meant. I’m confused. It’s all just so intense, so much for my heart… I’ve never felt this way, and it’s terrifying.” The words tumbled out, a chaotic mix of fear and longing. “Every time I close my eyes, I see him.”
“I’m scared, Nayoung. I’m scared of what I’m feeling, of what all this might mean.” Your words hung suspended, resonating with the same enduring presence as the art around you.
Nayoung didn’t release your hand; instead, she drew you closer, a pillar of support in the echoing vastness of the gallery. “It’s okay to be scared,” she assured you. “But hiding here won’t answer any of your questions. You can’t let fear hold you back.” Her encouragement was soft but firm, a gentle push toward the clarity you so desperately needed.
You nod. As you step backward, ready to leave the comfort of the sculpture’s shadow, your movement is abruptly halted by a solid, unexpected barrier. A quick gasp escapes your lips as you spin around, words of apology already forming, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t—”
Your voice trails off when you see it’s Sunghoon you’ve bumped into. His presence, so close and unexpected, sends a jolt through you that’s part shock, part something more electric. For a split second, you’re frozen.
He stands mere inches away, his expression initially mirroring the tired detachment you’ve seen in Nayoung’s eyes tonight, suggesting he’d rather be anywhere but here. But the moment his gaze meets yours, something shifts. There’s a flicker of something more intense, more profound.
Your eyes lock with his for a fleeting second, and in that brief exchange, his look deepens, becoming electric and unreadable. The air around you thickens as if charged by this sudden connection, leaving your heart pounding not just with nervousness but with a bewildering rush of emotions that you can’t quite decipher. His presence envelops you, intense and palpable, drawing you into a moment you both seem reluctant to break, yet overwhelmed to sustain.
Sunghoon, dressed casually but looking every bit the effortless figure who haunts your quieter moments, just smiles slightly. His voice, when he speaks, is soft and carries an undertone of warmth that only adds to your turmoil. “It’s a beautiful sculpture, isn’t it?” he comments, his eyes lingering on yours, trying to capture your gaze.
You notice the slight upturn of his lips—a knowing, almost teasing smirk that suggests he might understand more than he lets on. But you can’t hold his gaze, your eyes darting away after a fleeting, charged moment of eye contact that sends an array of sensations coursing through you. It’s too much, too intense—every nerve ending seems to scream, your skin tingling from the nearness of him.
With a rushed, barely audible excuse, you stutter, “Sorry, gotta get to the lecture!!!” Your hand shoots out, finding Nayoung’s, and without waiting for a response, you pull her away from Sunghoon and the sculpture, eager to escape into the crowd. Nayoung follows without protest, casting an amused glance back at Sunghoon, who stands there watching you leave, his expression unreadable.
As you navigate through the throng of people, your pulse racing, you don’t dare look back. The brief interaction leaves you with a flood of emotions you’re not ready to dissect—not here, not now. Nayoung remains silent beside you, her presence a comforting constant as you put distance between yourself and Sunghoon. Your escape feels both like a victory and a defeat, the complex emotions swirling inside you mirroring the intricate artworks you leave behind.
Nayoung’s laughter echoed in the otherwise quieting atmosphere of the lecture hall as you both settled into the back left corner. “Would you stop?” you whispered harshly, crossing your arms and sinking lower into your seat, though a secret smile tugged at your lips for securing such a strategically secluded spot.
“I’m just happy we got the best seats in the house,” you added with a pout, pretending to sulk yet relieved by the thought that Sunghoon wouldn’t easily spot you here.
The hall gradually filled, the buzz of conversation growing as students gathered. Your heart skipped a beat when Sunghoon walked in, accompanied by Jake. They took seats a few rows ahead, seemingly unaware of your presence. You let out a silent breath, hoping to remain unnoticed.
Professor Doyoung, widely recognized as the best arts professor at the university, began the lecture with his usual charismatic flair. Today’s session was special—a celebration of student achievements, spotlighting various art pieces and sculptures. The room dimmed slightly as the projector lit up with images of student artwork.
Your pulse quickened when a photo of your own creation appeared on the screen. The room filled with murmurs of admiration, but your own heart pounded for an entirely different reason. “And here we have an outstanding piece by one of our brightest students,” Professor Doyoung announced, his voice filling the lecture hall with enthusiastic approval. “This innovative work was created by none other than Y/N, whose artistic vision and execution have consistently impressed us.”
As he showered you with praise, detailing the depth and creativity behind your work, a sense of pride mixed with intense embarrassment washed over you. It was meant to be an anonymous exhibition, yet here was Professor Doyoung, breaking protocol because he believed certain students deserved recognition for their efforts.
While you appreciated the acknowledgment, your cheeks burned hotter when Professor Doyoung, spotting you trying to sink further into your seat, pointed you out to the entire auditorium. “Let’s give a round of applause to Y/N, sitting right at the back there, for such a brilliant contribution!”
The audience’s applause thundered in your ears, but it was the sound of bodies shifting and heads turning that heightened your anxiety. Sunghoon turned around, his eyes scanning the crowd before settling on you. When your gazes locked, a silent jolt of electricity shot through you. His expression transformed from casual interest to a more intense, unreadable look, tinged with a hint of a smile that seemed both knowing and curious.
The world around you seemed to blur into the background as the two of you maintained eye contact. The warmth of his smile, despite the distance, sent waves of nerves dancing up your spine, mixing with a thrill that you couldn’t quite suppress. You felt exposed yet oddly seen, the kind of visibility that made your stomach twist yet somehow left you wanting more.
You averted your gaze first, looking down at your lap as your face heated up. Beside you, Nayoung nudged you gently, a silent gesture of support—or perhaps encouragement to acknowledge the connection you obviously had with Sunghoon, one that seemed to extend beyond mere academic coincidences.
The lecture continued, but your mind was elsewhere, caught up in the whirlwind of emotions triggered by that brief yet impactful exchange of looks with Sunghoon. Your heart still raced, not just from the public praise but because of him.
After the lecture, you spot Jake lingering near the front of the room. Despite sharing a few classes, your interactions had always been casual—pleasant exchanges about coursework and occasional class discussions. Jake was known for his calm demeanor, a stark contrast to Sunghoon’s more dynamic presence. Now, with your recent involvement with Sunghoon weighing on your mind, you find yourself curious about their friendship. They seemed like opposites yet clearly got along so well, everyone knew they were best friends, brothers even. Perhaps it was true what they said about opposites attracting.
As you’re methodically packing up your things, Jake approaches with a gentle ease that diminishes the room’s formality. His presence feels like a quiet reassurance in the noisy aftermath of the lecture.
“He went ahead, you don’t need to worry,” Jake says softly, noticing the tightness in your expression. It catches you off-guard how observant he is, how he seems to catch even the subtlest shifts in your mood.
You gulp, a bit flustered by his insight. “I—”
“I think he’s really intrigued by you, you know,” Jake continues, his voice warm and encouraging. “I don’t know why, but he seems genuinely interested in getting to know you better. You always seem to run the other way, though.” His smile is gentle, nudging you towards reconsideration without pushing too hard. “Maybe you should give him a chance; Sunghoon’s actually a decent guy.”
“I’m not intentionally trying to avoid him,” you confess, the words tumbling out in a rush. “He just… makes me nervous.”
Jake’s chuckle is soft, a sound that spreads calm. He reaches out, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder for a fleeting moment, grounding you. “He makes everyone nervous at first. You get used to it,” he reassures, his touch light but affirming. “Who knows, you might even start to like it. I know I like it.” You can’t help but giggle when he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.
“I know it might seem like he’s intense, and yeah, he’s serious when it comes to things and people he cares about. But he’s also really chill once you get to know him better. He’s the kind of person you’d want in your corner,” he explains, his tone earnest.
“He doesn’t just give his attention and effort to anyone,” Jake continues, his eyes locking with yours to emphasise his point. “So don’t take it for granted or push him away. You might lose his interest forever, and trust me, you’d miss it. He’s someone you really want in your life. He's a really good guy..”
His comforting grin lingers as he steps back, giving you space to process his words. With a friendly nod, Jake walks away, leaving a trail of thoughtfulness behind him. His advice resonates with you, stirring a mix of anticipation and resolve. Maybe, just maybe, it was time to confront your nerves and see where things with Sunghoon could lead.
The crisp morning air nips at your skin as you traverse the campus pathway, lost in the world curated by your playlist. With every sip of your coffee, you feel the warmth spread through you, contrasting with the coolness of the day. Your steps are unhurried, a rare moment of solitude embraced amidst the hustle of your life.
Suddenly, a gentle tap on your shoulder pulls you from your reverie. You pull out one earbud, turning to see Sunghoon standing behind you. Despite the flutter in your stomach, you remember Jake’s words: Don’t push him away. Taking a deep breath, you muster a smile, not just any smile, but one that reaches your eyes, showing Sunghoon you’re here in this moment with him.
“Hey,” Sunghoon greets, his voice smooth, drawing a line of warmth up your spine despite the autumn chill.
You manage a nod, trying to appear composed. “Hi, Sunghoon,” you reply, your voice steadier than you feel. His gaze is intense, and you find yourself unable to meet his eyes directly, focusing instead slightly over his shoulder.
As you walk together, Sunghoon’s voice breaks through the crisp air. “I’ve been trying to talk to you for the last month now…”
Every attempt he made to bridge the gap between you was met with your nervous laughter or hasty excuses. His presence—so wanted yet so overwhelming—left you fumbling, your words tripping over your rapid heartbeat. But today you would handle things differently.
Or so you wished.
His voice seemed to blend into the background, making it difficult to focus. “Are you free this weekend?” he asked, a simple question that felt loaded with possibilities. Is he asking you out? Or is this just casual?
The campus around you felt unusually constricted as pairs of eyes turned to follow your interaction, their stares prickling uncomfortably on your skin. The judgmental looks from passing students, especially from girls who eyed you with undisguised envy or disdain, made it challenging to concentrate on Sunghoon’s words.
Sunghoon closes the distance between you with a measured step, his presence enveloping you in a subtle but undeniable warmth. His fingers tuck a stray hair behind your ear, the contact tender yet anchoring, pulling you back to the moment. His eyes lock onto yours, his voice a soothing whisper, “Just ignore them. Just look at me.”
Your breath catches, the simple command resonating deeply as you murmur, “But they’re all looking at me. At us,” your voice trembles in the air.
He smiles softly, his thumbs gently stroking your cheeks as he holds your face with a careful, affectionate grip. “And I want you to look at me,” he insists, his gaze steady and piercing, radiating a calm confidence that makes your heart race yet somehow reassures you.
As Sunghoon's hands gently cradle your face, his thumbs softly caressing your skin, you find yourself nodding as he tells you to focus on him.. The steady throb of your heart begins to calm, settling into a rhythm that feels less frantic, more in tune with the moment. Your eyes lock with his, and as you let yourself truly look at him, all fears begin to melt away. You lean slightly into the warmth of his touch, the tension in your body easing as you allow yourself to be anchored by his presence.
“Are you coming to Sunwoo’s party tonight?” he asks casually, his hands resting gently on your shoulders.
You give a small nod. “Maybe.”
“I hope you’re there,” he says, his tone sincere. “It gives me a reason to go.” He’s always so honest.
“Sunwoo will be dealing, are you sure that’s not reason enough?”
He smirks. “Close second.”
“It’s too much,” Yeji giggles shyly, running her hands over the dress she was going to wear tonight, in awe of the beautiful decorations and sparkles.
Her eyes moved to the brand new microphone Sunwoo had gifted her to congratulate her for winning the auditions and becoming the newest member of the band. “It's definitely too much, I didn't anticipate or expect any of this.”
You shake your head. “It’s not too much, you deserve it all.”
“Plus the dress is stunning, you’ll look beautiful,” you add. The dress was quite out there, adorned with sparkles and glitters. Yeji was definitely going to stand out and be the star of the show. “How did you get a dress as beautiful as that?” you ask.
“I don’t know… it just turned up to my door with a note telling me to wear it!” she responds.
“Sunwoo,” you respond immediately.
You both laugh. You know why he’s throwing this party randomly, with no warning or planning. It’s a surprise party for her, celebrating her joining the band. Sunwoo is welcoming her.
“I bet he buys dresses for all his girls,” she rolls her eyes as she slips into the dress.
“No, he doesn’t,” you say matter-of-factly, shaking your head in astonishment. Yeji was different for him. You could already feel that.
Applying the prettiest shade of pink to her cheeks, you couldn’t help but admire how blush looked so beautiful on Yeji. It complemented her complexion perfectly, adding a touch of radiance to her already glowing skin. As she examined herself in the mirror, a smile lit up her face, and you knew she was going to steal the show tonight.
“Aren’t you going?” she questioned, her eyes glancing over your pyjamas and messy bun.
You sighed softly, feeling the weight of exhaustion and a slight headache creeping in. “I don’t feel well,” you admitted, hoping she’d understand.
“No, you have to come. I’ll be nervous all there by myself,” she pleaded, her voice tinged with genuine concern.
Despite your reluctance, you couldn’t resist her puppy-dog eyes and the genuine warmth in her voice. Yeji had a way of making even the most mundane moments feel special, and you didn’t want to disappoint her.
“You won’t be by yourself,” you assured her with a smile, knowing Sunwoo and Eric would be there to keep her company.
Yeji was a new student, still adjusting to the rhythm of college life, but she had quickly become a familiar presence. Her easygoing nature and infectious enthusiasm had won over the hearts of many, including yours.
But she’s so sweet, and you couldn’t bear to see her disappointed.
“I’ll come,” you relented, knowing that her smile was worth it.
Her eyes lit up with excitement, and she practically bounced off the bed. “We need to get you ready,” she declared, already bustling around the room, gathering clothes and makeup.
As Yeji helps you pick out what to wear, her eyes light up when she spots a particular outfit. “This,” she exclaims, her gaze hungry as she holds up a daringly bold ensemble.
You feel your cheeks flush crimson at the sight of the revealing outfit. “That’s way too much,” you protest, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and excitement at her suggestion.
“But you’ll look so sexy though!” she insists, her excitement infectious as she imagines you rocking the outfit.
Despite your reservations, you can’t deny the thrill of the idea. “I don’t want to draw too much attention…” you murmur, but Yeji is already convincing you otherwise.
In the end, you settle on the cherry blossom pink mini dress she picked out, the soft hue flattering your complexion perfectly. As you change into the outfit, you can’t help but feel a surge of confidence wash over you. You opted for minimal makeup, you wanted to enhance your natural features, and soon you’re both admiring the stunning result in the mirror.
“Your wardrobe is so daring,” Yeji remarks, her eyes scanning through your clothes with awe.
As you step into Sunwoo’s house, a wave of nervousness washes over you despite how familiar you are to this house. It’s practically your second home, yet tonight feels different somehow.
A rush of color and a buzz of activity immediately greet you. You walk through the entryway bathed in vibrant lighting that casts dynamic shadows across the textured, dark-stained wooden walls. The decorations hanging there are bold and modern, each piece making a statement with its bright colours and daring strokes.
Beneath your feet, dark hardwood floors stretch out, absorbing the light and noise, giving the house a grounded, almost intimate feel. In the living area, a group of people lounge on oversized furniture, upholstered in deep, rich tones, chatting over glasses of chilled drinks pulled from stacked ice coolers that blend seamlessly into the decor.
You walk to the backyard where the atmosphere shifts from subdued luxury to a lively party scene. The garden is lit by strategically placed neon lights that highlight the lush greenery with an almost surreal glow. Music pulses in the background, the bassline vibrating softly underfoot.
It was a chaotic blur of vibrant colours, pulsating music, and energetic bodies moving to the rhythm. The air is thick with the smell of alcohol and the haze of cigarette smoke, mingling with the scent of drugs and anticipation.
The sight of so many people, each lost in their own world of intoxication and euphoria, is both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. Everywhere you look, there are couples making out, friends sharing laughter and secrets, and strangers forging connections in the dimly lit corners of the room.
Amidst the chaos, you catch sight of Sunwoo, his expression dazed and his movements sluggish as he navigates through the crowd. He spots you and stumbles over, enveloping you in a drunken hug. “You actually came!” he slurs, planting a sloppy kiss on your forehead before his attention is quickly diverted to Yeji, already taking her hand and leading her somewhere.
As you weave through the lively crowd, the familiar laughter of Nayoung and Eunji draws you in like a beacon. You break into a wide smile, the tension melting away as soon as you see them, both teetering slightly, drinks in hand, their laughter filling the air.
“Heyyyy!” you shout over the music as you approach, arms open wide. They spot you and immediately stumble forward, nearly spilling their drinks in their excitement.
Eunji, with a tipsy grin, throws her arms around you, pulling you into a wobbly hug. “Oh my god, look at you, gorgeous!” she squeals, squeezing you tight. Nayoung joins in, her arms encircling both of you, her laughter contagious.
“We’ve been waiting for you!” Nayoung exclaims, her words slurring just a bit. She steps back to give you a once-over, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Look at you!!!” She whistles, holding your hand above and twirling you around.
As Jake’s advice echoes in your mind, you find yourself fully immersed in the party atmosphere. Surrounded by the pulsing lights and thumping bass, you allow yourself to embrace the carefree spirit of the night. You’re a college student—young, pretty, and ready to let loose. If everyone else can dive into the highs of a college party, why shouldn’t you?
One step at a time. You want to take things slow tonight, hoping to eventually join Nayoung and Eunji on the dance floor, dancing and laughing without a care. But for now, you need a few more drinks to help shake off your inhibitions. Sitting beside Eric, who's thankfully keeping you company, you feel a bit more anchored. He hands you a cup filled with your favourite drink—your first for the evening and hopefully the first of many.
"Y/N, I might be going crazy but everyone seems to be staring at you," he whispers, close enough for only you to hear. You hum in response, your eyes scanning the room. He's right. Unlike other nights where you blended into the background, tonight it feels like you're under a spotlight. Is it because of your earlier encounter with Sunghoon on campus? That thought unsettles you as you realise people had stared then, and they’re obviously staring now.
Not quite drunk enough to completely let go of your inhibitions, you feel the weight of the stares pushing you to the edge. "Let's dance!!!" you suddenly exclaim, seizing Eric's arm and pulling him towards the dance floor where Nayoung and Eunji are already lost in the rhythm. Eric follows, his surprise evident but quickly morphing into enthusiasm as you both join the lively crowd.
You join Nayoung and Eunji on the dance floor, their bodies moving freely to the rhythm of the music. Joining them, the three of you fall into sync, bodies swaying and twirling in a shared rhythm. The energy is infectious, and soon Eric joins in, the four of you forming a tight circle.
Laughter and song blend as you dance, the music enveloping you completely. There’s a moment of pure joy as you all grind against each other, singing at the top of your lungs, the world outside fading away. Tonight, it’s just you, your friends, and the music—nothing else matters.
The relentless pace of the party begins to wear on you, and you wonder how your fellow students manage this every weekend. As your head starts to spin and a wave of dizziness washes over you, you realize you need a break. Muttering a quick excuse, you make your way to the quieter snacks section to catch your breath and steady yourself.
You smile when you see one of your favourite snacks, content to just munch on it, knowing Sunwoo got it just for you. Suddenly, he appears and checks on you, prompting a playful eye roll from you when you realise he’s been absent for the entire night. He was the host and was normally present but he was clearly occupied with Yeji.
You notice lipstick stains scattered across Sunwoo's neck, prompting a raised eyebrow from you. "You already fucked Yeji? Sunwoo, she hasn't even been in the band for a month—"
Sunwoo interrupts, "I haven't fucked her yet. We're just chilling in my room."
Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Really?"
He smiles, nodding. "Yeah. I want to take it slow. I really like her."
Sunwoo puts his arm around your back, concern evident in his voice as he asks, "Are you okay? You look tired. You can go and rest in one of the spare rooms; if anyone's fucking there, I'll kick them out."
You raise an eyebrow, teasing, "You'll walk in on them having sex?"
He shrugs nonchalantly, but you barely register his response. Your attention is suddenly captured by someone else.
Sunghoon.
He's here, partying, and he looks hot. Your eyes instantly gravitate towards him, taking in his appearance. Sunghoon is wearing a fitted button down shirt that manages to accentuate his muscles and toned chest, a chain dangling from his neck, adding to his appeal.
You’re engulfed in a whirlwind of emotions, your heart somersaulting within your chest, each beat a drumroll of anticipation. A nervous energy courses through your veins, setting your skin ablaze with a feverish heat, as if every nerve ending is on high alert, tingling with anticipation. Despite your attempts to remain composed, you can’t shake the feeling of butterflies fluttering wildly in the pit of your stomach, a chaotic dance of excitement and nervousness.
He’s in his element, downing shots with ease, his movements fluid and effortless. Girls press against him, grinding against him, each one vying for his attention. Laughter fills the air and his smile makes your heart twist, his presence is so magnetic and captivating. Despite the chaos around him, he’s the calm in the storm, his confidence unwavering as he basks in the attention of those around him.
The party’s intensity overwhelms you as much as you don’t want to admit it. You can’t help but feel suffocated amidst the pounding music and throngs of people. You need a break. So, you slip away to one of the rooms in Sunwoo’s vast house, seeking solace from the chaos. You were sure no one would find you here, Sunwoo’s house was massive so it was easy to hide away.
This dimly lit room on the lowest floor is your sanctuary, a hidden refuge from the party’s noise. Sinking onto the plush couch, you find comfort in its soft cushions. Closing your eyes, you let out a sigh, feeling the weight of the world lift from your shoulders.
Surrounded by silence, your thoughts fill the space. Reflecting on the evening, you wish you could shed your self-consciousness, to join the fun without fear of judgement. But anxiety holds you back, trapping you in doubt.
Taking a deep breath, you try to let go. In this quiet room, you find peace, if only for a moment, amidst the chaos outside.
Parties always felt like too much for you. The noise, the crowds, the energy—it all overwhelmed you. You'd stand there awkwardly, like a wallflower, while everyone else seemed to thrive in the chaos. You wished you could just let loose, have fun without worrying so much.
The door creaks open, breaking the silence of the empty room. Startled, you look up to see Sunghoon standing there, his presence filling the space with an unexpected intensity. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, time seems to stand still as the connection between you sparks to life. You feel a flutter in your chest, an electrifying sensation that makes your breath catch in your throat. Unable to hold his gaze, you quickly look away, feeling a rush of heat flood your cheeks.
As Sunghoon steps into the room, his energy is different from the chaotic atmosphere of the party. It’s composed, calm, yet brimming with an underlying intensity that sends shivers down your spine. There’s something unspoken in the air, a silent understanding that hangs between you, pulling you closer despite the distance.
He takes a seat beside you, and when you steal a glance at him, you find his eyes already locked onto yours. The intensity of his gaze sends a jolt of electricity through you, and you can’t help but feel drawn to him, as if there’s an invisible thread connecting you both.
As his gaze bores into yours, it feels like he’s peeling away the layers of your soul, seeing you for who you truly are. It’s intense, electric, sending shivers down your spine and igniting a fire deep within. His eyes hold a mixture of curiosity, desire, and a hint of something more profound, leaving you breathless and longing for more.
In a soft voice that sends tingles down your spine, he asks, “Why aren’t you enjoying yourself? Why did you come?” His words are laced with concern, genuine and caring, yet there’s an underlying tone of desire that makes your heart race.
You can’t help but laugh nervously, the sound echoing in the quiet room. “I came for my friends, but I already regret it… I don’t know why I can’t let myself have fun, I really don’t know… I tried to let loose but I just can’t.” Your voice trails off, filled with uncertainty and self-doubt.
His response is like a bolt of lightning, unexpected and thrilling. “That’s a shame… The prettiest girl here tonight should be enjoying herself,” he says, his words dripping with charm and confidence. The way he looks at you, coupled with his bold statement, sends a rush of heat straight to your core.
Feeling a mixture of surprise and desire, you meet his gaze head-on, your eyes locking in a silent exchange filled with unspoken longing. “I-I…” you stutter, unable to form coherent words as his proximity overwhelms you. “I… thank you,” you manage to whisper, your cheeks flushing with heat as you avert your gaze, feeling his intense presence enveloping you like a warm embrace.
“But I’m definitely not the prettiest girl here tonight, not even close. Have you seen Yeji? Or Nayoung and Eunji? Or Karina? I even saw you dancing with her, and I don’t blame you if you left with her tonight because she’s breathtaking and—” Your words tumble out in a rush, cheeks flushing crimson as you realise how much you’ve said. Fortunately, he cuts you off with a forward tone, sending your heart racing again.
“You’re prettier than all of them,” he declares, his words laced with confidence and desire.
“Why aren’t you partying right now? Did you follow me here?” you question, narrowing your eyes at him. His chuckle sends shivers down your spine as he shakes his head. “I was partying, then I saw you and realised you were here. I saw Sunwoo with you and got distracted. I didn’t follow you, I just wanted to find a room that no one would be in, and that’s how I came here…” His words hang in the air, leaving you speechless and breathless.
As he moves closer, you feel your pulse quicken, his presence overwhelming yet comforting. “Why can’t you look me in the eyes?” he asks softly, his fingers gently lifting your chin to meet his gaze. You try to avert your eyes, but his touch guides your focus back to him.
“Why do you always look at me like that?” you finally muster the courage to whisper, the intensity of his gaze leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable.
“Like what?” he replies, his tone smug yet enticing, as if he’s enjoying the effect he has on you.
“Like you’ve seen me naked,” the words spill out, unfiltered and honest, hanging between you in the charged air. It feels like a confession, a secret desire laid bare, but instead of recoiling, he leans in closer, a smirk playing on his lips.
Without a word, he closes the distance between you, capturing your lips in a heated passion that sends sparks flying. His lips are warm and demanding against yours, moulding perfectly to fit as if they were made to kiss yours. The taste of him is intoxicating, a heady mix of brown sugar and whiskey that ignites a fire within you. Your hands instinctively find their way to the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his soft hair as you pull him closer, deepening the kiss.
There's a primal hunger in the way he kisses you, a raw, animalistic need that leaves you breathless and wanting more. His tongue dances with yours in a tantalising rhythm, exploring every crevice of your mouth as if he's trying to imprint himself on you.
Moans escape your lips as the kiss grows more fervent, the passion between you reaching a fever pitch. With a low growl, Sunghoon's hands roam over your body, tracing every curve and contour with deliberate intent. His touch ignites a fire within you, sending shivers down your spine as his fingers trail up and down your back, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
You can feel the heat between your bodies intensifying, the urgency of desire driving you closer together. As he pulls you onto his lap, you straddle him eagerly, the hardness of his arousal pressing against you, a potent reminder of the passion between you.
With each movement, Sunghoon grinds against you, his hips rocking in perfect synchrony with yours, creating a rhythm that sets your heart racing. The friction between your bodies sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, building the intensity of your desire with every touch. His hands guide your movements, urging you to grind against him with increasing urgency
"Good girl," he whispers against your ear, his voice husky with desire, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. His words fuel the fire burning between you, igniting a primal hunger that demands to be sated.
You reach for the buttons of his shirt, unbuttoning with urgency while still grinding against him, your ass meeting his clothed thighs with every bounce. His hands grip the flesh underneath your dress, and you feel the tension in the air as you both lose yourselves in the moment. With a swift motion, his shirt is off, discarded in the heat of the passion that envelops you both.
As you look into his eyes, you see the same emotions reflected — lust, longing, want and need. You're consumed by the desire to pleasure him, to take him to the heights of ecstasy and beyond. With a primal urge coursing through your veins, you drop to your knees before him.
As you look up at him, a playful and innocent smile dancing on your lips, he groans in response, his reaction uncontrolled and raw. His moans escape him in a series of loud, guttural sounds, each one filled with the urgency of his desire and the pleasure coursing through him.
With a confident hand, you unzip his jeans, anticipation building with each tug of the zipper, until they're open and his arousal is straining against the fabric of his boxers. Pressing open-mouthed kisses to the fabric covering his cock, you revel in the feeling of his hardness beneath your lips, the heat of his desire seeping through the fabric. His reaction is immediate, a guttural groan escaping him as he feels your warm breath against his skin, the promise of pleasure tantalisingly close.
With a wicked grin, you tease him further, nipping at the edge of his boxers before slowly sliding them down, revealing his throbbing length in all its glory. The sight of him, hard and ready for you, only fuels your own desire, igniting a hunger that demands to be sated.
"You're driving me insane," he growls, his voice thick with desire as he locks eyes with you, the intensity of the moment igniting a fire between you. "Now, are you gonna suck my cock like the good girl you are?"
With a smirk playing on his lips, he teases you with his cock, tracing the tip along your parted lips. He grips his hardness firmly, using it to lightly slap against your eager mouth, the sensation sending shivers of excitement down your spine. Your mouth hangs open, ready and waiting for him, aching to feel him fill you completely.
With a hungry urgency, you take him into your mouth, your lips wrapping around him as you sink down onto his hardness. You touch each other all over, your hands exploring his body while his fingers tangle in your hair,
Your head bobs rhythmically, your mouth working him with skill and determination, each movement eliciting loud grunts and moans from him. He guides your movements with his hands, urging you to take him deeper, to suck him harder, to drive him to the brink of ecstasy.
"Fuck, that's it," he groans, his voice thick with desire as he watches you pleasure him. "Just like that, baby, take me all the way."
You comply eagerly, your hand tight around his length as you stroke and tease him, syncing your movements with the rhythm of your mouth for maximum pleasure. His rough and primal sounds of pleasure fill the air, spurring you on as you work him towards release.
But he wants more, needs more. With a sudden roughness, he tightens his grip on your hair, pulling you closer until your head is arched back, your neck exposed for him to take control. With a makeshift ponytail in his grasp, he guides your movements, angling your head for a better angle as he thrusts into your mouth with renewed intensity.
You surrender to his dominance, letting him guide you as he thrusts deeper into your mouth, each movement driving you both closer to the edge. Your senses are overwhelmed by the taste, the scent, the feeling of him filling you completely, and you revel in the primal pleasure of giving yourself over to him entirely.
"Fuck yes," he growls, his voice a primal command as he takes control. "Suck my cock, just like that. I want to feel you swallow me whole."
His grunts and moans grow louder, more urgent, as he approaches the pinnacle of his ecstasy. With one final, powerful thrust, he releases himself into your waiting mouth,
As you take his cum, you look up at him with eyes that are both desperate and satisfied, your mouth aching for more of him even as you savour the taste of his release. “That’s it, baby.” He strokes your hair softly, relishing in the feeling of you tasting his cum.
He whispers huskily, "take it all, baby... swallow every fucking drop."
You gaze up at him with a mix of desire and vulnerability, your eyes pleading and soft. He feels a primal urge stir deep within him. The sight of you, so desperately wanting, ignites a fire in his veins and a fluttering feeling in his chest.
With a growl of need, he effortlessly lifts you from the floor, his strength undeniable as he pulls you into his arms. Lowering you onto his lap, he holds you close, his hands roaming over your body with possessive urgency. Each touch is rough yet tender, a silent declaration of his desire to claim you as his own. And as he pulls you closer, the heat between you intensifies, the air thick with anticipation and need.
In his hold, your bodies meld together, hips moving in a primal rhythm, grinding against each other with an urgency that borders on desperation. As your lips meet, it's a clash of tongues and teeth, a passionate exchange that leaves you both breathless. Moans and sighs escape between kisses, mingling with the sound of your heavy breathing as you lose yourselves in the moment.
Breaking apart briefly, you pant against his lips, your desire evident in every ragged breath. "I wanna fuck you so badly, please," you whisper, your voice a husky plea.
With a low growl of desire, he meets your gaze, his eyes smouldering with need. "Ride my cock, baby," he commands, his voice rough with urgency as he guides your hips, urging you to take control.
His hands move with purpose as he pulls your dress up to bunch around your waist. His fingers deftly unzip the back of your dress, exposing your back and revealing your breasts, a sight that only fuels his desire further. With a primal need, he leans down to pepper kisses along your exposed neck, his lips trailing a path of fire along your skin.
You feel the pulsating heat of his arousal throbbing against your dripping core as you lower yourself onto his cock. A primal moan escapes his lips as you take him deep inside, your walls greedily enveloping him in a tight, wet embrace. With each downward thrust, you revel in the sensation of him stretching you, filling you completely, sending sparks of ecstasy coursing through your veins.
"That’s it," he groans, his voice husky with desire as he grips your hips, urging you to ride him harder. "You take me so well." He praises, leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek.
Your bodies move together in a frenzied rhythm, the sound of your skin slapping against his filling the room with the symphony of your passion. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure crashing over you, your senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating heat between you.
Your breasts bounce in front of him, a tempting display that drives him wild with need. He reaches up to grasp them, his fingers kneading and teasing your sensitive flesh, sending bolts of pleasure shooting straight to your core.
"You’re so fucking hot," he growls, his voice rough with urgency as he meets your gaze, his eyes burning with unbridled lust.
With each bounce on his cock, you relentlessly ride him, your bodies colliding with the sound of skin slapping against skin. The sensation of him filling you completely, stretching you to your limits, is overwhelming, a delicious tightness that leaves you breathless with desire.
Sunghoon can't help but marvel at how impossibly tight you feel around him. Every inch of his cock is enveloped in the warm, velvety embrace of your pussy, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through him with each thrust.
Your walls grip him with an intensity that leaves him breathless, a sensation so exquisite it borders on agonizing. He can feel every twitch, every ripple of your inner muscles as you ride him relentlessly, driving him to the brink of ecstasy with your insatiable hunger.
As the intensity of your rhythm escalates, the impending release becomes undeniable. "Sunghoon, Sunghoon," you gasp, your voice barely audible as you cling to him, the sensations overwhelming.
He meets your gaze with a primal hunger, his own need evident in the depths of his eyes. "I know, I know," he growls, his voice strained with urgency. With synchronised movements, you both reach the peak together. Your bodies tremble with the force of your climax, every nerve ending ablaze with pleasure.
"I'm cumming!" you cry out, your voice echoing in the room as your walls clamp down around him, milking him for every drop of pleasure. Sunghoon's own release follows suit, his moans mingling with yours as he spills himself into you, filling you with his warmth.
As you reach up to gently brush the hair away from his face, you notice a change in Sunghoon’s demeanour. His features soften, his expression becoming more relaxed and carefree under your touch. An unspoken tension, one that he didn’t even realise he was carrying, was released, leaving him looking more casual and at ease. Under your hold, you can feel the satisfaction coursing through you, you did this to him.
“Are you tired?” he asks sweetly, his voice laced with concern as he looks down at you.
You shake your head with a shy smile, reassured by the warmth in his gaze.
But before you can say anything else, he surprises you by suddenly lifting you effortlessly into his arms, turning you around with a speed that leaves you yelping in surprise. The sudden movement catches you off guard, a rush of exhilaration and excitement coursing through you as you find yourself wrapped up in his embrace.
As Sunghoon holds you in his arms, you feel a surge of exhilaration mixed with a potent cocktail of desire and trust. His strong and steady embrace grounds you, his warmth enveloping you in a sense of security and anticipation.
“Do you trust me, beautiful?” His whispered words send shivers down your spine. You nod eagerly in response. His kiss on the side of your head ignites a fire within you, fueling your desire and surrender.
Positioning himself behind you, Sunghoon aligns his throbbing cock with your eager entrance. With a primal growl that resonates deep within your core, he thrusts forward, driving deep into you as he supports your weight effortlessly.
His hands grip your hips firmly, guiding the rhythm of your movements with precision and intensity. Each thrust is a calculated display of strength and control, hitting all the right spots with a relentless pace that leaves you breathless and wanting more.
Despite carrying you, his movements are powerful and controlled, each thrust driving you closer to the edge of ecstasy. The sensation of him deep inside you, his cock driving into you with primal intensity, is overwhelming and intoxicating.
With each thrust, he emphasises his strength, his dominance evident in every movement as he holds you close to him, his body pressed against yours. The slickness of your combined arousal acts as a natural lubricant, enhancing the pleasure of each thrust and driving you both closer to the brink of release.
In the heat of the moment, Sunghoon’s dominance takes centre stage as his fingers entwine themselves in your hair, firmly grasping a fistful of your locks. With each deliberate tug, he exerts his control over the pace and intensity of your movements, guiding you with a commanding yet sensual grip. As he pulls you closer, you can feel the electric tension building.
With each rhythmic movement, his hand connects with your flesh, delivering a sharp, stinging sensation that ignites your senses. The contrast between the gentle glide of his thrusts and the sudden impact of his hand sends jolts of pleasure racing through your body, heightening the intensity of the experience. Each spank leaves behind a lingering warmth, a tangible reminder of his dominance and your shared desire. As the sensations wash over you, you find yourself surrendering to the raw passion of the moment, lost in the electrifying connection between you and Sunghoon
With your hands securely pinned behind your back, you’re completely at his mercy, unable to move or resist as he takes you with an intoxicating blend of strength and desire. His muscles ripple with every movement, his veins pulsating with the intensity of his passion. His arms wrap around you, holding you close, his biceps flexing with each powerful thrust. You can feel the heat of his body against yours, his primal energy consuming you as he claims you as his own. In his embrace, you’re lost in a whirlwind of pleasure and surrender, utterly captivated by the raw masculinity of his touch.
He’s crazy. With each sharp slap to your cheek and each forceful tug of your hair, there’s a gentleness in his soft kisses grazing your cheeks. Amidst the heat of passion, he whispers sweet nothings in your ear, his breath warm against your skin.
You find yourself on the brink of ecstasy, your body writhing with desire as you whimper, “Please, I need to cum.”
Sunghoon’s response is immediate, his deep whisper urging you on, “Cum for me, that’s my good girl.”
With renewed intensity, he thrusts harder, driving you to the edge and beyond. Finally, as the pleasure overwhelms you, you reach the pinnacle of bliss, and with a primal cry, you release, your climax crashing over you like a tidal wave. In that moment of euphoria, you feel Sunghoon’s own release, his body tensing against yours as he joins you in ecstasy, the culmination of your shared passion leaving you both breathless and spent.
Sunghoon’s house is not what you expected.
The cool evening air brushes against your skin as you approach Sunghoon’s place, his hand gently holding yours. He’d asked if you were comfortable coming over after the party, and something in his gaze made it impossible to say no. As you near his home, you’re taken aback by its appearance. Unlike the typical cramped student accommodations, Sunghoon’s house boasts a spacious front porch, its design minimalist but striking with shades of grey and sharp black accents.
“I live with a few other guys… it’s not all mine,” Sunghoon chuckles, noticing your wide-eyed wonder. His laughter eases the awe that had momentarily seized you.
“Who do you live with?” you ask, glancing around the spacious interior curiously.
Sunghoon chuckles, leading you through the open layout of the living room. “Jake, Jay, and Jungwon. Ni-ki and Yangyang practically live here too, though. It’s a big place, it never really feels crowded… the more, the better, actually,” he explains, his voice echoing slightly in the expansive space.
He continues, a smirk playing on his lips as he mentions Jungwon. “Jungwon can be a real pain sometimes, he’s the one who keeps telling me
you’re some Christian virgin but I tell him to shut up and hit him.” He says nonchalantly while you let out giggle. “But he’s one of my best friends. Always keeps things interesting around here.” He laughs softly, shaking his head at some unspoken memory.
“As for Jay, he’s the quiet, mysterious type. Doesn’t talk much, but he’s reliable, always there when you need him.” He adds thoughtfully.
“Are they your best friends?” you ask, intrigued by the warmth in his voice when he speaks of them.
He nods, his expression softening. “Yeah, they’re the people I’m closest to. We’ve been through a lot together—it’s like having a second family, you know?”
“And Jake?” you ask, knowing he was closest to him out of all people
“I love Jake.” He responds quickly and surely.
“Awww.” You coo.
Sunghoon’s expression softens. “Yeah, Jake and I go way back. He’s one of those friends who’s seen you at your worst and still thinks the best of you,” he explains with a laugh. “I’ve known him the longest. He has this way of keeping me grounded, especially when things start to feel overwhelming. His voice is so calm and he’s always so understanding, I’ll always be so thankful for him.”
He shifts slightly, his enthusiasm growing as he talks about his friend. “We don’t always have to talk to communicate. All we need to do is look in each other's eyes and we know what the other is thinking.”
He says it so seriously but you can’t help but snort. “That’s incredibly romantic.”
He rolls his eyes, a sign he’s used to that response whenever he speaks about Jake.
He takes you inside, then leads you on a brief tour, his hand still warm in yours. “My favourite part, the kitchen,” he announces as you step into a sleek, modern space. The kitchen is a testament to minimalist design, dominated by grey tones with vibrant blue accents that add a playful splash of color. The clean lines and uncluttered surfaces reflect a sense of order and style.
“You cook?” you ask, genuinely surprised by the sophisticated setup.
“Do I cook?” he repeats with a raised eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I’m the best cook around.”
The confidence in his voice sparks a smile on your face. “You’re gonna have to cook for me one day,” you say, the words slipping out more comfortably than you expected. It feels natural, easy even and you just allow it to happen.
“Yeah, I’ll make it my best work,” he responds, his smile broadening. He looks down at you with a warmth that makes your heart flutter slightly.
As you and Sunghoon chat comfortably in the kitchen, the sudden sound of footsteps causes you to startle. Before your nerves can fully spike, you realize it’s Jake entering the room. He seems nonchalant, sporting headphones and munching on popcorn, oblivious—or perhaps indifferent—to your presence.
Jake’s casual demeanour initially leaves you wondering if this is a common scene for him, witnessing Sunghoon with company. Sunghoon, for his part, doesn’t seem surprised or perturbed by his friend’s appearance, reinforcing the depth of their friendship. They’re comfortable around each other, sharing a living space without the constant need to fill it with conversation.
However, the quiet moment shifts as Jake finally acknowledges the room. He pulls one earbud out, glancing up from his phone with a mischievous smirk. His eyes flicker between your entwined hands and both your faces, a hint of amusement in his gaze. “Don’t start fucking each other against the countertop. I just cleaned it,” he quips, his tone light but pointed.
Sunghoon simply rolls his eyes, a small laugh escaping him as he looks at you, unfazed by Jake’s comment. “Ignore him,” he advises with a grin, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. “He always loves to tease.”
Some time passes and Sunghoon leads you to the third floor, to his room. When he pushes open the door, a sense of tranquillity washes over you. The room is meticulously curated, the white walls pristine, exuding an aura of calm and control. Your eyes immediately travel to the bed, high-set with a soft charcoal comforter. Above his bed, an abstract painting commands attention—its tempestuous strokes of blues and greys mirroring the complexity within Sunghoon himself.
On one side, a sleek desk stands, supporting a high-powered computer with dual monitors. A nearby shelf holds a collection of engineering textbooks and a scattering of eclectic reads, your eyes lighting when you see some of your own favourite books.
The room’s ambiance is carefully controlled, LED strips casting an intentional glow, highlighting the books and illuminating a space that is both a study and a sanctuary. His headphones lie within reach, resting comfortably on its own stand.
As Sunghoon’s voice breaks the quiet, you realise he’s been watching you take it all in. “Do you want to change into something more comfortable?”
You nod but then your smile falters. “I didn’t bring anything —”
Before you can finish, Sunghoon is pulling out one of his black hoodies, his movements smooth and assured. You accept it with a quiet “thank you,” your fingers brushing against his as you take it.
The moment’s calmness is palpable as you sit on the edge of Sunghoon’s bed, the comforter cool beneath you. Sunghoon bends down to retrieve a couple of drinks and snacks from a compact compartment below, something you hadn’t noticed in his room prior. With a fluid motion that suggests familiarity, he pops open your drink using his teeth, his hands full, and hands it to you.
Does he realise how hot that was?
It’s then, as you reach out to accept the cold can, that your gaze lands on a photo by his bedside—a polaroid capturing a candid moment. A leaden sensation creeps into your chest, a tightness that’s unfamiliar yet instinctive. The polaroid shows Sunghoon with Arin share a blissfully happy moment, her radiant smile lighting up the room as she sits comfortably on his lap. They are wrapped in an intimate embrace, his arm securely around her, their gazes locked in an affectionate fondness. Arin looks breathtaking, embodying a natural beauty that deepens the pang of unease in your chest. Witnessing their intimate connection depicted so vividly in the snapshot, you can’t help but frown, a reaction Sunghoon catches instantly.
Without realising, a frown forms on your face, your fingers tightening around the can. Sunghoon’s gaze shifts from you to follow your line of sight, and with an ease that startles you, he plucks the photo from its place. The action is dismissive, an erasure of history as he tosses it into the nearby bin without a second glance.
“What do you want to watch?” he asks, turning to face you with the remote in hand.
You shrug playfully, “You choose.” A grin spreads across your face as you hear the faint clicks of him browsing through the movie selections.
As Sunghoon fiddles with the projector, the soft glow of the screen illuminates the room, casting playful shadows around his minimalist space. You settle more comfortably into his bed, pulling a cushion under your arm.
Your giggle fills the room when you see his choice pop up on the screen—Lemonade Mouth. It’s unexpected, and his reasoning makes you chuckle even more. “Seems fitting to watch the most iconic movie about a band with the hottest and coolest band member I know,” he explains, a teasing tone in his voice.
“It’s an amazing movie,” you whisper, sinking deeper into his bed, drawing the comforter up to your chin. You’re so engrossed in the opening scene that you don’t notice Sunghoon’s gaze lingering on you, his attention only half on the movie.
The film’s lighthearted humour unexpectedly draws peals of laughter from you, your giggles echoing in the quiet room. It’s endearing to Sunghoon, how easily you find joy in simple moments.
“Did you guys start your band in detention too?” he jokes, referencing the plot of the movie, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
You shake your head, still smiling. “No, we started it because Sunwoo lost a bet. We’ve only been a band for like… less than a year.”
Settling back, he watches you more than the movie, a soft smile playing on his lips as he enjoys your reactions just as much as the film itself. The evening unfolds with a gentle, easy magic, the kind that seems to pause time just for the two of you.
As the characters in Lemonade Mouth rally together for their iconic ‘Determinate’ performance, Sunghoon chuckles, pointing at the screen. “Can Sunwoo and Eric rap like that?” he asks, genuinely curious yet teasingly.
You laugh, the sound is light and easy. “Both, actually. Especially Sunwoo—he’s surprisingly good. But he can’t ever be serious about it. I swear, half the time, I can’t take him seriously at all, and I can’t believe he’s in a band.”
Sunghoon’s laughter joins yours, creating a symphony of amusement that fills the room. “That must make rehearsals interesting,” he comments, imagining the scene.
“It’s like managing a group of kids sometimes.” You deadpan, eyes twinkling with the memories of countless rehearsals.
As the movie winds down and the room dims with the soft light of the credits rolling, your eyelids grow heavy. Nestled comfortably under his covers, you find the cosy warmth too inviting, your voice barely above a whisper, “Can I stay here tonight?” You’re already sinking deeper into the cushion of his pillow, the fatigue of the night drawing you closer to sleep.
Sunghoon’s response comes with a gentle chuckle, warm and reassuring. “Yeah, you can,” he smiles, the softness in his voice making it clear you didn’t even need to ask. As you nestle in, he reaches out, his touch light as he brushes his hand over your cheek. “Don’t you wanna remove your makeup before you sleep?” he asks, his concern tender.
You groan softly. “Can’t be bothered,” you mumble.
Without hesitation, Sunghoon offers, “I’ll do it for you.” He pulls open a drawer, retrieving cotton pads and makeup remover. His movements pause as his fingers brush over the items—remnants of past routines, he frowns, breathing in deeply before letting it out. Not tonight, not now.
He gently turns your face towards him, ensuring not to disturb you too much as your eyelids flutter in the struggle to stay awake. With care and immense attentiveness, he begins to dab at your face, removing the makeup with strokes so soft they could be mistaken for a caress. Each motion is careful, ensuring not to tug at your skin, his touch as light as air.
“So pretty,” he whispers, his voice a hush in the quiet room. He finds you absolutely breathtaking like this, bare-faced and in his hoodie, resting on his side of the bed. Normally he doesn’t let anyone sleep on his side of his bed, but with you, he decides to make an exception.
Sunghoon reaches for a spare blanket and pillow, throwing both onto the couch beside his bed but just as he turns to leave, your hand reaches out, catching his wrist with a gentle, yet firm grip, your fingernails embedded in his wrists slightly.
“Don’t go,” you murmur, the softness of your voice masking the intensity of your plea.
He pauses, turning back with a chuckle. “I sleep here all the time, it’s fine,” he assures you, his voice a blend of amusement and comfort.
But tonight, you want him closer. “I want you to stay,”
Sunghoon sighs, a sound of subtle delight, he can’t argue with that. as he slides into the bed beside you. “You’re kinda on my side of the bed,” he teases, a playful note in his voice that makes you smile in the dimly lit room.
“Come closer then,” you whisper back, shifting to make room and tossing the spare pillow off the bed. Your arms open, inviting him into a more intimate embrace. He obliges without hesitation, his hands finding their way to the small of your back, his fingers trailing along your skin as he pulls you closer, the heat of his breath mingling with yours.
You wrap your arms around him, pulling him close. The fabric of his shirt is soft under your fingertips, and you trace patterns absentmindedly as you both adjust into a comfortable cuddle. His presence is a calming force, and you feel the earlier tension of the evening begin to dissipate.
The proximity is electrifying yet soothing, with his breath rhythmic and steady against the side of your face. “This is better,” you admit, your voice a soft confession in the quiet of the room.
“Yeah?” he murmurs, his breath tickling your ear. His hand finds its way to your hair, fingers gently sifting through the strands, a touch that sends shivers down your spine.
“Mmm,” you hum in response, content and a little more daring as the night deepens. “I like having you close,” you continue, the words spilling out with a vulnerability that feels right in the moment.
Sunghoon’s response is a gentle squeeze of his arms around you, pulling you even closer. “I’m not going anywhere,” he assures you, his voice a low rumble that you feel rather than hear. His hand trails down your back, settling with a comforting weight that anchors you to the moment, to him.
The morning after, sunlight sneaks through the curtains, painting the sheets in a warm glow. You wake up to find yourself comfortably nestled in Sunghoon’s arms, his arms secure around you. Is it the bed or his strong embrace making you feel so cozy?
You feel his warm breath on your skin as Sunghoon leans in to kiss you, his lips hovering just inches from yours. But before he can make contact, you blurt out the question that catches him off guard.
“How did you find fucking me?” you ask, the words slipping out before you can stop them.
He pauses, his lips lingering near yours for a moment before he chuckles softly. “Good morning to you too,” he replies, giving you a quick peck on the lips.
“Was I good?” you press, your heart pounding in your chest.
Sunghoon plays with your earrings, his touch sending shivers down your spine. “Really good,” he admits, his voice husky with desire.
“Really?” you can’t help but sound a bit silly, your insecurities bubbling to the surface.
“There’s a reason I kept calling you my ‘good girl’,” he reassures you, his words sending a flutter of excitement through you.
You giggle at his response, feeling a surge of confidence wash over you. “I mean, who taught you how to suck cock like that?” he teases, wiggling your eyebrows playfully.
“I’m self-taught,” you continue, a mischievous grin spreading across your face. “No one needs to teach me.”
He moves his body on top of you, his gaze smouldering with desire. “Do you want to show me what else you’ve learned?” he asks, his voice low and husky with anticipation. His eyes lighting when you nod eagerly.
You fidget with the hem of Sunghoon’s hoodie as you descend the stairs, the fabric soft against your skin but heavy with the weight of the night before. Hickeys dot your neck, a visible reminder of the passion that unfolded in the quiet of his room. Sunghoon follows closely behind, his hand finding the small of your back, a silent assurance as you step into the heart of his home.
The kitchen buzzes with morning activity, the air thick with the scent of coffee and the low hum of conversation. It’s a stark contrast to the serene isolation of Sunghoon’s bedroom. You’re not prepared for the burst of energy that greets you, but then again, you should have expected it. Sunghoon’s housemates, a notorious and eclectic group known campus-wide, are gathered around the island, their presence as commanding as their reputations.
Jake spots you first, his eyes lighting up with mischief. “Good morning, did you sleep well? Or should I say, fuck well?” he teases, winking at you with a grin that spells trouble.
Jungwon stands, clapping dramatically as he eyes the marks on your neck. “Oh, look, someone lost their virginity!” he declares, earning a chorus of laughs from the others.
You shoot him an annoyed look, choosing not to engage with his antics. Jay leans against the counter, a smirk playing on his lips. “Did he fuck you do hard that you couldn’t make a sound? We didn’t hear a peep last night,” he adds, his voice dripping with mock concern.
Despite the barrage of teasing, Sunghoon remains unfazed. He steps closer, his arm snaking around you, pulling you to his side. His presence is a wall against the playful onslaught. “Ignore them,” he murmurs, his voice low and comforting by your ear, leaving a soft kiss on your cheek.
You feel a tightness in your chest as their chatter swirls around you, the familiarity and ease of Sunghoon’s friends contrasting sharply with your own nervousness. You cling slightly to Sunghoon, tightening your grip on his arm. You manage a small smile, avoiding direct eye contact with the group, your gaze flickering between the countertop and the mug you’re now holding.
With a soft touch, he leans down, his breath warm against your ear. "Hey, just take a deep breath, okay? They really like you," he whispers just for you, the reassuring tone blending with the underlying rumble of his voice. He guides you subtly to stand slightly behind him.
You nod, managing a shy smile as you lean into his protective form, feeling the tension begin to ease. The physical closeness, Sunghoon's body shielding yours, brings a quiet comfort that helps you relax into the moment, the earlier apprehension slowly melting away under his attentive care.
As the weeks pass, your interactions with Sunghoon become increasingly frequent and intense. You find yourself actively seeking him out.You’ve spent endless nights in his house, in his room. Endless laughter and soft touches weave between you, gradually building a deeper connection. Days without seeing him leave a noticeable void, highlighting just how integral he has become to your daily life.
Park Sunghoon was not what you expected, he was better, he left you breathless. He had effortlessly evolved into a constant presence in your world. His ability to make you laugh and smile becomes a cherished aspect of your days together. You don’t shut up around him; it’s something he wasn’t expecting. He finds it endearing, how much you babble and talk. You simply share every thought and feeling with him — unmasked and raw. It was a massive difference to the shy girl who never used to be able to look him in the eyes.
(You still struggle making direct eye contact with him though).
You don’t know how it happened so quickly, but you begin trusting him and instinctively needing him around before actively realizing it. It was your bodies and minds’ natural response.
In getting to know Sunghoon, you discover a multitude of shared interests, from music and literature to movies and even Lego sets. Yet, it's the differences that add depth to your connection. Sunghoon exuded confidence, his outgoing nature and commanding presence drawing you in. He knew how to navigate any situation with ease, always in control and never at a loss for words.
Yet, alongside his confidence was a wild streak that ignited a fire within you. He embraced the thrill of indulging in drugs, drinking, sex and getting high, finding euphoria in the freedom of letting loose. His uninhibited nature was undeniably attractive, adding to the magnetic pull you felt towards him.
Despite his wild side, Sunghoon displayed a remarkable intellect and dedication to his studies. He approached engineering with a seriousness that spoke to his ambition and drive. Behind his cool exterior lay a focused individual with clear goals and aspirations for the future. This combination of intelligence, ambition, and spontaneity only served to deepen your admiration for him.
You also love when he kisses you.
The entire world melts away in those moments, as his soft lips meet yours in a dance of warmth and affection. Each kiss is filled with smiles and unspoken promises, drawing you closer to him with every tender touch. The closeness you share in those stolen moments is everything you’ve ever dreamed of and more.
It happens often—more often than you would have expected. You find yourselves kissing, making out, lost in each other’s embrace, more frequently than you could have imagined. Yet, despite the overwhelming desire that burns between you, you haven’t been able to take that next step.
Do you want to have sex with him again? Yes, without a doubt. The thought of being intimate with him again sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine. But have you been able to? No. And why? The answer eludes you, buried beneath layers of uncertainty and hesitation.
You meet his eyes through the reflection in the mirror, the anticipation palpable in the charged air between you. His hands trail down the curve of your back. As he zips up the back of your dress and places your necklace around your neck, his whispered words send a wave of bliss coursing through you.
“You look beautiful,” he murmurs into your ear, arching your neck to meet his eyes directly now. his lips pressing against yours with longing, roughness, and breathlessness all at once. You moan softly into his mouth, your fingers instinctively fisting in his hair as he effortlessly picks you up, your legs immediately wrapping around his waist.
With a sense of urgency, he guides you to the chair by his desk, both of you breathless and eager for more. You straddle him, the heat of your bodies igniting as you grind against each other. As the cool metal of the zipper trails down the small of your back, a shiver runs through you—mixed, not with the anticipated thrill, but an unsettling trepidation. Your breath hitches, caught in the tangle of your conflicting desires. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? The question haunts the fringes of your mind, echoing with each inch of fabric that parts under his fingers.
He pauses, and the room suddenly feels too small, the air too thick. You can feel his gaze, heavy with concern, as he leans back to look at you. It’s a careful, searching look, one that seems to pierce right through the façade of readiness you’ve put up. “What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice low, a soft thread in the tense silence.
Your heart pounds louder, faster, betraying your outward calm. Embarrassment flushes your cheeks as you meet his eyes—so full of worry now. Why can’t you just be okay with this? The frustration at yourself bubbles up, sour and accusing. You feel exposed, not just in flesh but in spirit, as if he’s peeling back layers you’re not ready to shed.
You open your mouth to speak, to explain, but the words dissolve into a heavy breath. His concern deepens, the atmosphere shifts; it’s no longer just about desire, but about the raw, unmasked corners of vulnerability. “Y/N,” he says, and it’s gentle, almost reverent.
In that moment, caught between wanting and uncertainty, you realize the gravity of intimacy—not just the physical merging, but the emotional exposure. It’s not just bodies that are laid bare in such encounters, but hearts and hidden fears, all intertwined.
He catches every faltering word, his expression softened by an empathetic understanding that seems to wrap around you like a warm blanket. “It’s okay. You don’t need to say sorry,” he reassures you, his voice steady, a stark contrast to the tremble in your own.
You glance up at him, the turmoil inside bubbling over. “No, I do… I do want to have sex with you, I think I do but something is holding me back. Something doesn’t feel right inside of me, and I don’t know what it is. I just feel weird, I feel tense, my anxiety has never felt this high.” The words spill out in a rush, your voice cracking under the strain of the heavy, churning emotions.
“I feel nauseous. I’m sorry… I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or guilty. I’m really sorry.” You mumble, biting your lip to hold back the tears that threaten to break free. Guilt gnaws at you, twisting tighter with each apology, fearing how your words might weigh on him.
He listens, his eyes never leaving yours, not even for a moment. There’s no hint of frustration or judgement, only deep, unwavering patience. “You don’t need to say sorry to me about that, or explain yourself to me, ever,” he responds, his tone firm yet gentle. It’s comforting, like a steady anchor in the tumultuous sea of your emotions.
“I know what you’re feeling. Having sex does take a toll on your body and mind. It can be a lot mentally. You don’t need to explain yourself to me because I will always understand, okay? Just tell me if anything is making you uncomfortable and don’t ever feel guilty about it.” His assurance is a soothing balm, addressing not just the immediate anxiety but acknowledging the broader, often unspoken pressures that come with intimacy.
The room stills, the earlier tension slowly dissipating as his words settle over you. You nod, a silent acknowledgment of his kindness. In this moment, the physical space between you is charged with a new, quiet intimacy—a connection not of bodies, but of souls understanding each other in profound silence.
His hand reaches out, brushing a stray tear from your cheek with a tenderness that makes your heart swell. It’s a simple gesture, yet it speaks volumes, reinforcing the safety and acceptance in his presence. It’s not about what happens next, or what didn’t happen tonight. It’s about being seen, understood, and cared for without conditions. And in that understanding, the heavy cloak of anxiety begins to lift, replaced by a lighter, more hopeful sensation—a whisper of peace amidst the storm.
“Do you still wanna go or do you wanna stay here and chill for the night?” he asks, his voice gentle, leaning in close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath. His eyes search yours for an answer, patient and undemanding.
You smile, a wave of relief washing over you at how understanding he is. “Of course I still want to go.” You respond, your voice steady but soft. There’s comfort in his presence, a safety that peels back the layers of guard you’ve meticulously built around yourself. For a moment, you hold his gaze, seeing the sincerity and warmth that flicker in his eyes, revealing his true intentions. It’s this truth that captivates you, locking your eyes with his and making the world around you fade.
He nods, a small, understanding smile playing on his lips. Standing, he offers his hand, and you place yours in it, feeling a rush of warmth from his touch. His hand is strong and secure around yours, a contrast to the smooth, gentle hold that sends a thrill up your arm. As he leads you through the crowd, you can’t help but notice the confident way he moves—each stride purposeful and assured, his shoulders relaxed yet commanding presence. The feeling of your hand in his—a delicate yet perfect fit—makes your heartbeat a little faster.
Sunghoon also bonded with your friends, although it got a bit awkward considering he had fucked Nayoung and Eunji before, it’s not shocking, he has a high body count. It wasn’t easy to forget that the way he met you was through Nayoung, through his initial interest in her. But it was clear that boundaries were now set, and he viewed them as your friends specifically.
Sunghoon exuded an unexpected chill vibe that effortlessly drew people to him. He possessed a natural charisma that made it easy for him to get along with everyone, though not in a desperate, boundary-less way. Rather, he was the type who genuinely wanted to keep everyone happy and safe, yet he also harbored a darker, more defensive side. If you crossed him or someone he cared about, he wouldn’t hesitate to assert himself.
His presence was magnetic, with eyes following him wherever he went. Being around him was like basking in sunshine—impossible not to smile, to feel light and happy, to keep your eyes fixed on him with a wide smile. That’s why you warmed up to him so easily. His ability to effortlessly connect with your friends was incredibly hot, and seeing him make an effort was a major turn-on.
Your friends have grown accustomed to seeing you in their own world, whenever you and Sunghoon are together, their glances and remarks go unnoticed by both of you. You’re so engrossed and caught up in each other that the outside world fades away. There’s constant eye smiles, giggling, stolen glances, whispers, and communications, all adding to the intimate atmosphere. Physical closeness comes naturally, and you always make space for him. He, in turn, chooses to sit next to you and focuses solely on you.
You’re in the campus student lounge rooms. The last time you were here, the mere thought of him used to send chills down your spine, he used to make you incredibly nervous. The last time you were here with him was the morning after you had sex, and the memories flood back, mingling with the present moment.
But now? You’d say you’ve become a lot more comfortable around him. Don’t get it wrong, he still makes you nervous. At times it’s still difficult to look into his eyes and he loves it, especially right now, when he’s tracing the skin under your pretty little skirt with such precision. His eyes gaze into yours, penetrating deep into your soul, while the sides of his lips upturn into a smirk. As always, your friends are rolling their eyes as you and Sunghoon are eye-fucking again, completely oblivious to the scene around you.
Why is he touching you? Well, you mentioned wanting a tattoo, so you asked Sunghoon to trace an artistic outline of what he thinks would look good on you. Of course, deep down, you just wanted his hands on you; you weren’t actually planning to get inked. But you couldn’t exactly blurt out, “Sunghoon, please touch me!” in front of everyone, could you? He doesn’t mind though; he sees right through you and finds you endearing and cute. Plus, he’s not exactly opposed to any excuse to touch you either.
As Sunghoon’s fingers glide over the bare skin of your thigh, you feel a surge of desire coursing through your veins. His touch is electric, sending shivers of anticipation up your spine. You bite your lip to stifle a moan, but the sound escapes anyway, earning a smirk from Sunghoon.
“Really? In front of everyone?” he teases, his voice husky in your ear, dripping with desire. You shake your head, unable to form words as his touch sets your nerves on fire. Every brush of his fingertips sends waves of pleasure straight to your core.
“You like that?” he whispers, his warm breath tickling your ear. You can only whimper in response, the ache between your legs growing more insistent with each passing moment.
His hand moves with purpose, tracing the curve of your thigh before inching higher, closer to where you need him most. You can feel the heat radiating off his body, matching the fire burning within you.
In your mind, you’re chanting “higher” over and over, craving his touch to escalate. Suddenly, his voice, a low whisper in your ear, sends shivers down your spine. “You want me to touch you higher?” His words, dripping with seduction, fuel the fire burning within you.
How does he know? It’s maddening yet exhilarating, the way he can read your desires with just a glance. You bite your lip, trying to suppress the moan building in your throat, but it’s futile. You want him to know, to feel the raw intensity of your longing.
“No,” you manage to whisper, but it’s a lie, a feeble attempt to resist his irresistible allure. He smirks knowingly, his fingers teasingly brushing against your folds, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You can’t hold back anymore as desire consumes you, craving his touch, his warmth, his everything.
He repeats his question with a smirk, his tone dripping with teasing temptation. “No?” he says, drawing out the word, his eyes sparkling with mischief. But you’re beyond words now, lost in a haze of desire as his touch threatens to unravel you completely. All you can think about is him, his hands, his lips, igniting a hunger that only he can satisfy. “Hoon—”
As you lay your head on Sunghoon’s lap, the comfortable silence of the room wraps around you. You’re scrolling through his phone, a small gesture that shows just how close you’ve become, trusting each other with such personal devices. He’s doing the same with yours, each of you lost in a quiet exploration of memories captured in digital form.
Your fingers pause as you swipe through his camera roll, a gallery of his life displayed in bursts of pixels and colours. There’s an array of images: candid shots with friends, selfies, beautiful scenic photos, gym progress and a few of his university projects. You also come across an array of your own photos that you’d almost forgotten sending him—naughty and risqué shots of you in lingerie, revealing outfits, and even some playful nudes.
Then, amidst the casual swiping, you halt. A photo pops up that halts your breath and tightens your chest. It’s an image of Sunghoon with Arin.
You were still unclear about who Arin was to Sunghoon, and the nature of their past relationship. He hadn’t ever spoken about her, and the bits you pieced together from Eunji and Nayoung suggested they were together a while ago, though whether it was serious or not, you couldn’t be sure. But seeing this photo cuts your breath in half.
They’re caught in a serene moment—her seated on his lap, an arm draped comfortably around her. Her smile is radiant, the kind that seems to illuminate her entire face, and her eyes sparkle with joy. Sunghoon’s gaze is fixed on her with an intensity that’s palpable, his eyes soft, mesmerised. It’s clear from the photo that there was something deep and affectionate between them.
Among the multitude of images, this one stands out conspicuously, the only visual record of her presence in his phone. The absence of any other pictures of her prompts a troubling realisation: he must have deliberately removed them, yet this one remains, was it accidental? Was it not?
You doubt it. A chill runs through your spine, your breath shakes, and you feel a painful strain in your chest at the realisation. This photo had to be recent—you notice him wearing one of his commonly used jackets, and the hairstyle is the same.
You’re so incredibly jealous and shaken up that your vision blurs; you can’t think straight, you feel like you’re about to throw up, you feel so fucked up and nauseous that you don’t even think to check the date the photo was taken. All you can focus on is looking at her.
You can’t believe how breathtaking the photo is. Arin’s dress hugs her figure elegantly, accentuating her curves in all the right places, while her radiant smile lights up the frame, infusing the image with an undeniable warmth. Her eyes sparkle with genuine joy, drawing you into their depths with an irresistible allure. But it’s the way Sunghoon looks at her that leaves an indelible impression on your mind—he’s captivated, his gaze fixed on her with a mesmerising intensity that speaks volumes.
As you stare at the image, a cold realisation washes over you. She embodies everything you fear you’re not; her ease and vibrancy in the photo make you painfully aware of what you perceive as your own shortcomings. Sunghoon’s mesmerised look serves as a sharp reminder of your insecurities, feeding the jealousy that coils tight in your chest.
Now you know what it means when people say that a photo speaks a thousand words. It’s evident just by one photo—they look like they’re in love. The realisation hits you like a ton of bricks, confirming what your heart already suspected. With a single glance, the photo lays bare the truth of their relationship, leaving you reeling with a pang of heartache.
The photo stirs a storm of emotions within you—jealousy, envy, confusion. “She’s pretty,” you whisper to yourself, so quietly that Sunghoon doesn’t hear. You try to shake off the discomfort, to scroll past, but your eyes are glued to the image. Arin’s beauty, her dress, the happiness on his face—it’s a vivid portrayal of a potential love that fills Sunghoon’s life.
Silence stretches, heavy and thick, as you digest the image and its implications. The room suddenly feels smaller, the air around you charged with unsaid words and emerging doubts. Your fingers tremble slightly as they linger on the screen, the brightness of the phone casting shadows on your thoughtful face.
Sunghoon’s voice breaks through the heavy silence, calling out your name with increasing urgency. He notices the sudden change in your demeanor, the way you’ve gone silent and still, and follows your gaze to the photo of him and Arin. He meets your eyes, and there’s an unreadable, cold expression as if he’s masking or hiding something.
Your faint, broken voice fills the room with a small whisper. “Why do you have this photo on your phone?”
He’s about to answer, his mouth opening to form words that you’re not sure you’re ready to hear, when suddenly his phone vibrates loudly on the table. Your head snaps towards the device, a sharp intake of breath catching in your throat as you see the name illuminated on the screen. A single tear escapes, tracing a hot path down your cheek, but you quickly wipe it away before he can notice. With a huff, tinged with a mix of anger and hurt, you ask, your voice trembling slightly, “Why is Arin calling you?”
read part two here
as always. asks, comments, reblogs and likes are always appreciated :) it takes a few minutes and means you’ll make my day! please don’t be a silent reader 💗
reaction to the ‘asking your bf a dirty question’ challenge || OT6 (18+)
➻ synopsis | your piwon boyfriend's reaction to you asking “are you putting cream in your coffee? can you put some cream in me?”
➻ details | nsfw (MINORS DNI), suggestive content
𓆩⟡𓆪 requested by anon
𓆩⟡𓆪 KEEHO immediately blushes but starts ohhhh’ing and praising your smooth skills to hide away the fact that it totally caught him off guard and flustered. But he’s also grabbing your hand to pull you towards the exit, completely abandoning your order number being called by the barista. “It was just a joke, Keeho!” You exclaim through your amused snickers. He turns back to you with a raised brow and a sly grin and asks, “So… you don’t want cream?” Well, if he’s offering, you won’t say no.
𓆩⟡𓆪 THEO stares at you, blinking slowly as the words process through his morning haze. And once it clicks, he goes straight to work, picking you up bridal style and walking you over to the couch, the coffee maker beeping uselessly behind him. You try to protest that it was just a joke and that you’re already sore from the night before. He just throws you onto your back, climbs over you while peeling his shirt off with one hand and says, “Should be careful what you wish for then.” Really, you should know by now to tread carefully around him. Foolish you :(
𓆩⟡𓆪 JIUNG stares at you, straight flabbergasted and wondering how his sweet, lovely girlfriend could ask something so filthy out in the open airport cafe for any prying ears to head. No, he actually gets so flustered and tries to literally hide you behind him like somehow that will take the question back from being asked. “Why would you say something like that in public?” He scolds, the tips of his ears a bright red. “To see you like that,” you answer with a giggle, poking at his cheek that is quickly colouring. He huffs and puffs a little more about it but he’s just upset that he got caught so off guard by you and so flustered in public. But later that night when you’re both tucked into bed and he’s still restless from the dirty words from your mouth, he sidles up to you from behind, presses a kiss to your ear and asks in that husky voice he knows you love, “still want that cream?” If you’re filthy, Jiung is filthier but that’s only for you to see.
𓆩⟡𓆪 INTAK eyes light up in excitement and he honestly finds the joke hilarious. But he also gets so excited at the prospect of the idea that he’s grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the FNC cafeteria. “Intak, you’re not done with practice yet!” You try to remind him but the only thing on his mind right now is fulfilling your request as he drags you into a supply closet. He’s also someone you have to be careful with what you say around…
𓆩⟡𓆪 SOUL doesn’t really understand the innuendo. He just stares at you, blinking those big eyes slowly. “You want me to feed you cream?” When you explain it to him, a little flustered that you have to, he also gets flustered. It’s just unfortunate that the barista overheard and gives you the nastiest side eye that has both of you doubled over with laughter as you leave the cafe. He does fulfil your request later though. Multiple times :)
𓆩⟡𓆪 JONGSEOB double takes, thinking he’s just heard you wrong. But then when he sees you trying to stifle your laugh, he gives you a reprimanding look. “We are at my workplace,” says mister nonchalant as he’s grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the FNC cafeteria. You ask him where he’s taking you but he stays silent until he’s got you both locked in his studio room. “I needed some backing snippets for the new song anyways,” he says, then goes straight to work.
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.ᐟwarnings/tags: dealer/stoner!nicho, i call him weno in this, soft dom!nicho, shy!reader, loverboy!nicho, drug use, shotgunning, romantic, making out, dry humping, praising, fingering, oral (f. receiving), p in v, mating press, crying, unprotected sex, confessing, aftercare
♡ you started buying weed for your friends and ended up falling for the dealer—turns out, he fell even harder.
.ᐟwc: 9.7k (no proofread)
You’d seen him around long before you ever spoke to him. He wasn’t the kind of guy you could ignore. Not because he was loud, Weno was anything but loud, but because he had this presence. Calm, quiet, and detached, like nothing ever really touched him. He was always there but just out of reach. The kind of person who didn’t care if people were watching, but somehow still ended up being the one everyone looked at. You had a couple classes near the same buildings. He always showed up late, always dressed like he’d just rolled out of bed—big hoodie, baggy jeans, backpack hanging off one shoulder. Never rushed. Never looked stressed. Just there. He’d walk past where you and your friends were sitting on the grass and barely glance your way. But even that one second felt heavier than it should. You didn’t know much about him, but you noticed him. You always had. Weno wasn’t exactly a mystery, everyone on campus knew what he did, they just didn’t talk about it. Not out loud, anyway. The stories passed around in whispers. That he sells, and it’s good shit too. That he never chased customers, people came to him. That if he liked you, he might give you more than you paid for. That if he really liked you, you’d know.
You didn’t know if any of that was true. But what you did know was that your friends wanted weed and were too scared to go get it themselves. So they asked you. Apparently, being the quiet one made you the designated “safe” option. It wasn’t like you and Weno were strangers, anyway. You’d talked a few times now. Nothing long, quick chats during pickups, the occasional hi at a party when you passed by each other. He’d never made you feel weird or unsafe. Just… flustered. A little warm in the chest, a little unsure what to say next. He had a way of watching you that felt deliberate, even when he said nothing at all. Your friend had shoved some cash into your hand at the last minute, babbling about how “he’s chill, he’s not scary, just please go for me, I can’t” — and you’d sighed, texting him before you could overthink it. He told you to meet him behind the dorms. 6:30. You almost didn’t go. You weren’t sure why he made you nervous, he hadn’t done anything to deserve that label. But something about him felt sharp beneath all the calm. Like he could see through you if he wanted to. When you rounded the corner that evening, he was already leaning against the side of his car, phone in hand, headphones around his neck. The sun was low, painting the edges of his face gold. You caught yourself staring before you could stop. He looked up as you approached. “Didn’t expect you,” he said, not moving. You blinked, “Why?” He shrugged, “Thought one of your loud friends would be the one to show. You’re not really the type to do this.” It wasn’t teasing exactly, but the way he said it made your face warm. You cleared your throat. “They made me come.” “Mm,” he hummed. “Figured.”
He pushed off the car, pulling a ziplock from his hoodie pocket. You reached for it automatically, but he didn’t hand it over right away. “You ever tried it?” You shook your head. “No. It’s not really… my thing.” He tilted his head slightly. Not judging, just observing. “Didn’t think it was.” he chuckled softly, then he handed it to you, fingers brushing yours for half a second too long. You looked down at your hand, not at the bag, but at where your skin still tingled. “You’re good,” he said quietly, “Let me know next time.” You nodded, muttered a soft thanks, already starting to turn away, but then he said your name. You froze and glanced back. He was still standing by his car, one hand in his pocket, the other lazily spinning his keys around his finger. The way he looked at you made your stomach flip, like he wasn’t just looking at you, but through you. “You always do stuff for your friends?” His tone was casual, but the question caught you off guard. “What do you mean?” He shrugged a little. “They want something, and you’re the one who shows up.” A pause. “That happen a lot?”You weren’t sure how to answer. It did happen a lot. They asked, you went. Not because you wanted to, but because it felt easier than saying no. You glanced down at the ziplock in your hand. “I guess,” you mumbled. “I don’t know.” He hummed low, like that told him everything he needed to know. You looked back up, ready to say something else—anything, maybe even defend yourself, but he beat you to it. “You’re a good girl.” The words were soft and genuine, but they landed heavy. Your breath caught. His gaze didn’t waver—steady, calm, like he hadn’t just said something that made your skin go warm all over. You didn’t know what to do with that. You didn’t even know what it meant coming from him. You just knew it made something flutter in your stomach. “Thanks,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. You turned and walked off a little too quickly, heart pounding, ears hot, his voice still echoing behind your ribs. You’re a good girl. You didn’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the night. It wasn’t long before your friends asked again. Same excuse, same tone, a whiny “please, he already knows you” and cash pushed into your hand like you owed them something. You hesitated more this time. Not because of them, but because of him. You hadn’t stopped thinking about last time. It replayed in your head again and again. You stared at his contact in your phone for some minutes before typing out the message.
You
hey my friends wanna grab again
He replied two minutes later.
Weno
same place 7:30
When you showed up this time, he was inside his car, driver’s door open, music playing low through the speakers. He looked up as you approached and smiled, lazy and half-lidded. “Hey,” he said, voice low. “Hey.”You tried not to sound nervous. You weren’t even sure why you were nervous. This wasn’t new. You’d done this before. But this time, it felt different. You felt different. He stepped out, shutting the car door behind him as he pulled the same ziplock from the pocket of his jeans. You took it wordlessly, but his fingers brushed yours again, on purpose this time. You could feel it in the way he didn’t rush, didn’t pull away immediately. “Still not trying it?” he asked, tilting his head. You shook your head. “Not yet.” He raised a brow. “Why not?” “I just… haven’t.” You tucked the bag quickly into your jacket pocket like it might deflect the attention. “You scared?” The way he asked it wasn’t mocking, just curious, like he wanted to understand you, not challenge you. You hesitated. “No,” you said finally. “Just don’t wanna.” He nodded slowly, watching you again with that unreadable expression. “Still doing things for your friends, though.” You pressed your lips together. “I guess.” “They ever do stuff for you?” You blinked. “What?” He shrugged. “Just wondering.” You didn’t answer. Mostly because you didn’t have one. He could probably tell, because he didn’t push. He just looked at you for a long second, eyes dropping to your mouth before flicking back up to meet your gaze as he rolled a blunt for him. “You should stop letting people use you.” The bluntness of it caught you off guard. You shifted on your feet, unsure whether to say thank you or tell him it wasn’t like that, even though maybe it was. “You don’t even like them that much, do you?” Your breath hitched. “They’re my friends.” “Mm,” he hummed. “If you say so.”
After that, it happened a few more times. The same routine: a text, a time, a quiet walk behind the dorms where he’d be waiting. Sometimes he was standing. Sometimes in the driver’s seat with the door open. Sometimes already smoking, low music humming from the speakers. And each time, it got a little easier to look him in the eye. But also harder not to look too long. Weno never talked much. He didn’t fill silence just to hear himself speak. He asked things, small things, personal in ways that didn’t feel invasive, just seen. He was trying to piece you together quietly, without making a show of it. You’d come with your friends’ money in your pocket and leave with more than you paid for. Not every time, but enough that you noticed. When you offered to give him more, he just shook his head, said “You’re good,” and he meant it, it wasn’t just about the cash anymore. You didn’t tell your friends about how often you started going. Sometimes it wasn’t even about picking up anymore. You’d hand over the cash, but he’d wave it off. “Not this time.” You started to wonder if he even gave you real amounts. If this was still a deal or just an excuse. What you did know was that somewhere along the way, something started to shift.
It was in the way your pulse picked up when his name lit up your screen. In how you started getting ready earlier than you needed to. In how you made sure your outfit and make up was cute before leaving, like that would help keep your face from giving you away when he looked at you like he always did. It was on the low. No one really knew how often you were seeing him now—certainly not your friends. To them, it was still just you doing the awkward task they were too scared for. They didn’t know that half the time you went to Weno now, it wasn’t even because of them. Sometimes they didn’t ask at all—you just found yourself texting him anyway. And he always said yes. You weren’t sure when it stopped being about weed. You weren’t sure it ever really was. Sometimes you’d sit with him for a while. In the passenger seat of his car, parked in the same quiet lot behind the dorms. He’d roll one and lean back with the window cracked, slow smoke curling out into the night while music filled the silence. He never pushed anything on you. Never asked why you stayed. But you stayed. You weren’t good at talking about yourself, and he didn’t make you. He just gave you space to exist, and maybe that was what started doing it. Maybe that’s why you kept feeling warmer every time you saw him. More sure that he saw you. And you started to open up to him. You two would hang out and talk about anything and anyone very frequently.
You were curled up in the passenger seat, legs tucked under you, jacket zipped halfway. The night was cool, and the air smelled like weed and cologne, smoke curling from the blunt between his fingers. His playlist low in the background that made it feel like time moved slower in his car. You hadn’t said much in the last ten minutes. Just sat there, letting the silence hang. But it wasn’t awkward. Weno never made things awkward. You gave him a small smile, eyes drifting out the window. The streetlights cast a warm glow across the dashboard. He tapped the ash into the tray and leaned back, one arm stretched across the back of your seat like he didn’t even think about it. “I don’t get it,” you said quietly after a moment. “You do this with all your clients?” “Do what?” he asked, eyes narrowing slightly, playful but unreadable. “This.” You motioned vaguely between you. “Sit in the car, talk like this, not charge them.” He chuckled once, deep and soft in his chest. “No.” You blinked. “No?” He turned his head, looked right at you, and shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “They’re not you.” Your stomach fluttered. You tried to play it off, but your smile gave you away. He tilted his head slightly, watching you through the soft haze in the car. “You know you’re my favorite, right?” Your head snapped toward him. “What?” He smirked, exhaled a slow breath, eyes never leaving yours. “Client,” he added after a beat, but the pause was on purpose. His smirk deepened like he knew what he was doing to you. Your face went warm immediately. “Shut up,” you muttered, covering your smile with your hand. “I’m serious.” His tone was calm. “You don’t talk much, you don’t ask dumb questions, you never waste my time.” “Oh,” you said quietly. But your smile stayed. “So I’m convenient.” He leaned a little closer, voice dropping low. “Nah. You’re cute.” Your heart jumped. You didn’t know where to look. You didn’t know what to say. So you laughed—awkward and soft, trying to bury your face in your hands like that might cool your cheeks. You left a little later than usual that night.
Three days later, when your screen lit up with a text from him, you answered in less than a minute.
Weno
u free tonight?
wanna chill for a bit?
♡
You
yeah :)
same spot?
♡
Weno
pull up at 10
no rush
You tried not to read into it too much. But you still picked out a different hoodie this time, your favorite one, did a little extra on your make up, styled your hair in way you knew framed your face best. It wasn’t a date. It wasn’t anything. But your hands still felt warm as you walked out to meet him. His car was already there when you arrived. You climbed into the passenger seat, familiar now with the way the door stuck a little when you pulled it. Same playlist was on, and the heat was turned up just enough to make the inside feel cozy. He glanced over as you settled in, eyes flicking down to your mouth before meeting your gaze again. “Hey,” he said, voice smooth, quiet. “Hey,” you murmured back, smiling a little.
The next hour passed easily, like it always did when you were with him. You talked about nothing and everything, classes, music, random campus drama you weren’t even involved in, movies you both halfway remembered, the last weird dream you had. He laughed more than usual tonight, low and slow, eyes squinting a little when something you said caught him off guard. His hand rested on the steering wheel as he listened, thumb tapping the leather in a lazy rhythm. He made you feel comfortable, like whatever you had to say mattered even if it didn’t. Like he was listening just because it was you talking. At some point, he lit up. You were mid-sentence when he leaned forward to spark the lighter, the soft flick of it barely cutting into the music. He offered it to you once out of habit, holding the blunt out between two fingers, and this time you didn’t shake your head immediately. You hesitated. Then, before you could overthink it, you took it. Your fingers brushed his. His expression didn’t change, but something in his gaze lingered longer than before. “You sure?” he asked, voice soft, a little more serious now. You slowly nodded. “Yeah. Just—don’t laugh at me if I cough.” He smiled, “I won’t.” He leaned back into his seat. “Promise.” You inhaled, a small hit, like you’d seen him do a hundred times now. It burned, made your throat tickle, your eyes water just a little, but you didn’t cough. He watched carefully, still smiling. “Good girl,” he murmured.
Your chest tightened at the words, heat blooming under your skin before you could stop it. You handed it back to him quickly, trying to focus on the burn in your lungs, the soft thrum of bass in the background, anything except how warm you suddenly felt. Time got slower after that. An hour passed in a haze, soft laughter, lazy conversation, both of you sinking deeper into your seats, the windows fogging slightly. He smoked again, and passed it back and forth to you. Your body felt lighter. Music melted into the background, his voice a little rough now. You both stared out at the empty parking lot for a while, just existing. It was quiet in the way that felt close, not awkward. Every time your knee brushed his, he didn’t move. Every time you shifted, his eyes flicked toward your mouth, then back to the road like he didn’t want to get caught looking. And maybe it was the high, or the way the space between you had been shrinking since the start, but something changed. You turned to say something and caught him already looking at you, staring. His arm was still draped behind your seat, but now his fingers were brushing your shoulder, light and casual. You blinked at him. “What?” you whispered, voice lower than before. He didn’t answer right away. Just looked at you for a long second, eyes warm, thoughtful. “C’mere.” You didn’t even think. You just leaned forward, heart thudding quietly behind your ribs as his hand slid slowly to the back of your neck. He tilted his head slightly. His lips brushed yours soft at first, testing. Then again, firmer. You leaned into it. Your heart stuttered, hands unsure of where to go. One found the edge of his hoodie. The other pressed lightly to his chest. His mouth moved against yours like he’d been thinking about this for a while. He wasn’t in any rush now that it was finally happening. You kissed him back slow, high and a little breathless, your skin buzzing all over. He pulled back eventually, just enough to look at you, eyes dark and steady.
“You’re high,” he said, almost teasing. “So are you,” you whispered. He smiled, gaze dropping to your lips again. “Yeah. But I still meant it.” You smiled, small and dazed, and tucked your legs under you again, curling back into your seat. The car was quiet for a few more minutes. Nothing changed. But everything had. And when you finally said you should go, he didn’t stop you. Just nodded, reached over, and opened the door for you like he always did. Before you stepped out, he caught your wrist gently. You turned back. His eyes searched yours for a moment. “Text me when you get in.” You nodded, “Okay.”
You
made it home :)
♡
Weno
good
was starting to think u got lost
♡
You
nope
just still thinking
♡
Weno
about?
♡
You
you
♡
Weno
yeah?
what part
♡
You
the obvious part
♡
Weno
mm
i liked that part too
didn’t rlly want u to go
♡
You
u didn’t?
♡
Weno
nah
wanted to kiss u again
♡
You
i wanted to too
but i got nervous :(
♡
Weno
it’s ok bby
will i see u again soon?
♡
You
yeah
if u want to
♡
Weno
i do
♡
You
can’t wait
goodnight weno :)
♡
Weno
me neither
gn <3
You didn’t stop thinking about that night. Or his texts. Or when he said he wanted to kiss you again. The way your heart stuttered when he called you bby like it wasn’t a big deal. Like it was already normal between you. It wasn’t, not really. But it was starting to be. You’d kept texting after that. Not every second of the day, but enough. Little check-ins, good mornings, music recs, late night questions that felt heavier than they sounded. He was never overly forward, not the type to blow up your phone or say things just to get a reaction, but everything he did say stuck with you. You were head over heels. Smiling at your phone and then burying your face in your pillow like an idiot every time. So when one of your friends mentioned the party coming up—some frat guy’s birthday, everyone was going, “you have to come, it’s gonna be huge”—you didn’t think much of it at first. Until she added, casually, “Pretty sure Weno’s gonna be there too, so you can’t get us some stuff as well?” That made your heart skip. You played it off, said “yeah, cool” and shrugged, but your brain had already started spiraling. What if you saw him? What if you didn’t? What if he ignored you in front of everyone? What if he didn’t? You told yourself you weren’t going for him. But you still stood in front of your closet longer than usual. You picked a dress—short, tight, something you hadn’t worn before. Simple, but it hugged you in all the right places. You did your makeup with more care than usual, spritzed perfume on your neck, your wrists, let your hair fall soft and full around your shoulders. You didn’t tell anyone why you looked a little extra tonight. But you kind of hoped he’d be there. And you really hoped he’d notice.
The house was already packed by the time you got there—music thumping through the walls, bodies crammed together in every corner, red cups in almost every hand. Lights low, flashing sometimes, music echoing through a speaker in the living room. It smelled like sweat, beer, weed, and cheap cologne. Typical. Your friends disappeared as soon as you walked in, squealing at someone they recognized near the kitchen. You stayed back for a second, just long enough to scan the crowd. Not because you were looking for anyone. Not on purpose, anyway. And then you saw Weno. Leaning against the far wall near the stairs, hoodie half-zipped over a white tank, cargo pants hanging low on his hips, the hem of his boxers peeking a little. He wasn’t dancing. Wasn’t talking loud or laughing or drinking like the rest of them. Just standing there, calm and unreadable, eyes lazily moving through the room like he’d been here a hundred times before. He was talking to someone, dapping them up quick, pulling something from his pocket and handing it off like it was nothing. No one looked twice. Just a quiet exchange, over in seconds. He didn’t try to be subtle, he didn’t have to. People came to him. You stayed near the edge of the crowd, drink in hand, pretending to be more focused on your friends than you were. But your eyes kept drifting back. He looked good. Effortlessly good. And he hadn’t seen you yet. You tried not to look over too often. Tried to focus on your friends and their chaotic conversations, the loud music, the colorful lights. You laughed at jokes that didn’t really register. Nodded along. Sipped water from your cup and told yourself it wasn’t that serious. He wasn’t even talking to you. He was doing his own thing. Still, your gaze kept drifting. Just to see if he was still there. Still. Every time you checked, he was. Some minutes passed like that—just you pretending to be more chill than you felt while your friends chattered and moved toward the crowd. You stayed behind, needing a second to breathe. You slipped into the kitchen, mostly empty now, except for the quiet hum of the fridge and the faint bass vibrating through the floor. You reached for the fridge handle, intent on just grabbing some cold water and hiding out for a bit, but when you turned, he was already there. Standing just inside the doorway. Watching. Your breath caught.
He didn’t say anything at first. His eyes scanned you slowly—top to bottom, unhurried. You felt it like a heatwave, settling low in your stomach. His gaze was darker than usual. Focused, sharp. You dropped your eyes immediately, trying not to fidget. Tugged lightly on the hem of your dress like it might help somehow, like maybe it covered more than it did. You felt your cheeks flush without him even having to speak. You weren’t even sure why you were so nervous. You’d seen him like this before, but something about tonight made it worse. Made you bite your lip without thinking. Made your cheeks burn just from the way he looked at you. “Didn’t know you’d be here,” he said, voice calm and even. A little rough from the smoke, but still warm. You glanced up, heart racing. “Yeah,” you said, “Wasn’t really planning to, but… my friends dragged me.” He smiled a little. “I’m glad you came.” Your breath hitched. You weren’t expecting that. “You look good tonight.” It landed heavy in your chest. No teasing. No smirk. Just him saying it like it was a fact. Your whole body flushed. “Oh,” you said, voice small. “Um. Thanks.” He nodded once, eyes still on you, and then glanced back toward the hallway. “I’m heading up to the balcony for a bit. If you wanna get some air.” He didn’t wait for an answer. Just gave you one last look—soft, lingering—and pushed off the doorframe to leave. “Come find me,” he said, and then he was gone. Leaving you standing in the kitchen, heart racing, lip caught between your teeth, wondering how the hell he always made you feel like this without even trying.
You lingered in the kitchen for a while after he left, pretending to scroll through your phone, half-listening to the party still pulsing through the walls. Your friends had fully disappeared into the crowd by now, probably dancing or taking shots or screaming over music. You told yourself you were just cooling off. Just getting a break from the noise. But you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d looked at you. The way he said it—You look good tonight. Like it wasn’t up for debate. Like he meant it, and he knew you’d heard him loud and clear. Eventually, you texted some excuse about needing air, said you’d be right back if anyone even cared that you left. You slipped out of the kitchen and made your way upstairs, heartbeat loud in your ears, feeling a little ridiculous and a lot nervous. The hallway was quiet, just some closed doors and the muffled hum of bass below. You found the door to the balcony slightly cracked open, soft breeze pushing in from the night. You pushed it open gently. There he was. He sat on a low, beat-up couch tucked against the wall. One leg stretched out, the other bent, arm thrown over the backrest like he owned the space. Head tilted back just slightly, hoodie slipping off his shoulder, lips parted around the blunt as he took a slow drag. The ember glowed red in the dark, lighting up the sharp cut of his jaw, the curve of his mouth. He looked unfairly good. Like the air belonged to him. Like nothing touched him. He turned his head lazily when he heard the door, eyes finding yours through the smoke. Didn’t smile. Didn’t say anything for a second. Just looked at you, then took another slow hit, exhaling with a quiet sigh before speaking.
“Knew you’d come.” You swallowed hard, heart kicking up again like you hadn’t already spent the last fifteen minutes trying to calm it down. His voice was low, almost lazy, but there was something behind it—something that made your chest tighten a little. You stepped out and quietly shut the door behind you. You sat down beside him, slow and careful, the cushion dipping under your weight. His knee brushed yours just slightly, warm through the fabric. You glanced over, then down again, chewing the inside of your cheek. “I just—I’d rather be up here with you than down there in all that chaos.” That got him to finally look at you. Head tilted slightly, eyes narrowed just a little like he was trying to read deeper than what you were saying out loud. He didn’t answer right away. Just flicked the ash from the blunt, leaned back again, eyes still on you. You breathed in through your nose, steadying yourself. Then softer, barely louder than the wind, you added, “I missed you.” He turned his head fully now, letting the blunt rest between his fingers. The pause that followed wasn’t awkward. It was heavy. Warm. His eyes softened just a bit. “Yeah?” he said, voice a little quieter than before. “I missed you too.” It landed in your chest like a weight—like the kind of thing you weren’t sure you were allowed to want, but did anyway. He leaned in a little, not close enough to crowd you, but just enough for his knee to press softly into yours. His eyes didn’t leave your face.
“You been thinking about me?” he asked, voice still calm, but something about it made your stomach twist. You blinked. Heat rushed to your cheeks again, and you had to look away. “…Maybe.” He smiled at that, small and crooked and unfairly attractive. “Same.” And then he took another hit like he hadn’t just wrecked you with a single word. He let the silence hang for a few seconds after that, the blunt burning slow between his fingers, and then he said it quietly, like it wasn’t a big deal. “Come closer.” Your eyes flicked to his, heart stuttering a little. He didn’t look away, didn’t shift or make room, just waited. You hesitated for a second and then moved, scooting over until your leg was pressed fully against his. He reached out casually, like it was second nature, and slid his arm around your shoulders. A soft tug, and suddenly you were leaning into him, your head falling against his chest like it belonged there. You could feel everything. His warmth, the slow rise and fall of his chest, the steady thump of his heart under your cheek. His hoodie smelled like smoke and laundry and him. He brought the blunt to his lips again, took a hit, then lowered it and turned his head slightly toward you.“Want some?” he murmured. You shook your head, just once. “Not right now.” He hummed, didn’t push. Just let his hand stay where it was on your shoulder, thumb brushing idly against your arm. You didn’t say anything after that. Neither did he. You both just sat there, pressed together on the old balcony couch, the party a muffled storm below you, the stars wide and scattered above. You listened to the wind. The soft scratch of fabric when he shifted. The occasional drag and exhale as he smoked. You closed your eyes for a second and just let yourself feel all of it.
He shifted a little, moving his hand lower on your arm, caressing the skin, his breath warm against your hair. You felt his heartbeat quicken just a bit beneath your cheek. The silence between you was thick. to be noticed. You glanced up at him, your eyes catching his in the dim light. There was something softer there now. Something unspoken, but heavy. Without breaking eye contact, his hand moved to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, fingers lingering near your temple. Your breath hitched. He leaned down just a little, voice low and casual, “You’re beautiful.” You swallowed, barely able to meet his gaze as your face flushed again. Then, just like that, he closed the tiny gap between you. His lips found yours slow and gentle, before deepening the kiss, like he’d been wanting to do this all night. You melted into him, your hand slowly reaching up to rest on his chest as the world around you faded. It’s not gentle anymore, it’s urgent, needy. His hand tightens in your hair, pulling you closer as his tongue slides against yours, deep and demanding. You whimper softly, the sound lost in the press of his mouth, your body melting into his. He pulls back just enough to whisper in your ear, voice husky, “Wanna get out of here? I’ve got my car nearby.” Your heart pounds so hard you’re sure he can hear it. You just nod, swallowing the lump in your throat, breath catching again as he wraps his arm tighter around you.
He doesn’t rush you, just laces his fingers through yours, warm and firm, and gives your hand a gentle tug. You follow without thinking, legs shaky as you leave the balcony behind and slip back into the quiet hallway. The party feels distant now, like the world narrowed down to just him, the weight of his hand in yours, the aftertaste of his kiss still lingering on your lips. The walk to his car is quiet, but not awkward. When he unlocks the door and slides into the driver’s seat, you hesitate for half a second before slipping in beside him. The doors shut with a soft thud, sealing you both inside the low, warm hum of the vehicle. He leans back, legs stretched out, calm like always, but there’s a heat behind his eyes when he looks at you. A spark still flickering from earlier. “I’m gonna roll real quick,” he murmurs, pulling out his tray and grinder from the center console like it’s second nature. You nod, watching him work—his fingers nimble, methodical, the lighter’s flame briefly illuminating his face when he brings the blunt to his lips. The car fills with the earthy scent of smoke, and his head tilts back slightly as he exhales, half-lidded. He looks so fucking fine like this, bathed in shadows and smoke, hoodie loose around his collarbones, the faint red glow of the blunt lighting up his lips. Then he turns his head toward you again and you don’t even get the chance to fully catch your breath before he leans in again, free hand finding your cheek as he kisses you.
The smoke still lingers on his breath, and you melt into it, moaning softly into his mouth as his tongue slides against yours. His fingers are on your thigh, squeezing gently as he pulls you closer. The kiss turns messier, full of need, soft gasps and low groans echoing through the car. Your hand grips his hoodie low, holding on like you might fall apart if you let go. He pulls back only enough to whisper, breath ghosting over your lips, “Could do this all night.” Then his mouth is on yours again. More heat, more tongue, more breathless little noises spilling from your lips as your body starts to tremble in his hands. Without breaking the kiss, his hands move, one sliding up your thigh, the other settling on your waist. “C’mere,” he murmurs against your mouth, voice low but soft. You barely register what he means until his hands are guiding you, pulling you gently, firmly, right onto his lap. One leg at a time, knees sinking into the seat on either side of him, hands braced on his shoulders, your dress hiking up as you settle onto him, straddling him, face to face. He leans back just enough to look at you, eyes hooded, red from the weed, blunt still between his fingers. One of his hands slides up your side, fingers grazing your waist and ribs over the thin fabric of your dress. He takes his time with it, like he’s learning your shape. Your breath stutters as his hand travels higher, stopping just under your arm. He brings the blunt to his lips again, takes a long, slow hit, his chest rising beneath you, and then leans in close. His free hand curves around the back of your neck, guiding your face closer to his. You part your lips on instinct, and he exhales the smoke right into your mouth, warm and slow, curling over your tongue. Your eyes flutter shut as you breathe it in, heart thudding, and then he kisses you. Kisses you like he’s taking the air right back from your lungs.
Your breath catches when you feel his hands slide down, beneath the hem of your dress. He pushes it up slowly, bunching the fabric around your waist until the cool air hits your thighs. You shift slightly, nervous, thighs tightening around his hips as he exposes more of you. He doesn’t say anything, just stares for a second, eyes flicking down to where your panties are now visible, his palms firm on the back of your thighs. “Fuck,” he mutters, almost to himself. Then he leans forward, mouth finding your neck, and everything gets messier after that. He kisses down the side of your throat, open, warm, wet, his lips dragging along the skin, tongue flicking against your pulse point, teeth grazing just enough to make your hips twitch against him. You whimper quietly, trying to stay still, but he’s already pulling you closer with both hands, guiding your body into his like he knows exactly what you need. You tilt your head for him without thinking, shy sounds escaping your mouth as he works his way up to your jaw, then down again, kissing a little rougher now. “Weno…” you whisper, voice breaking around his name. “Shh,” he murmurs, his voice low against your skin. “You’re okay.” Your arms wrap around his shoulders instinctively, face burning as you shift in his lap, unintentionally grinding down just slightly. His reaction is immediate, a quiet groan right into your neck, his hands tightening on your hips. “Just like that,” he breathes.
Your hips grind down harder without thinking, breath coming out in shaky gasps as the friction starts to feel almost too good. His hands slip under the back of your dress, squeezing the soft flesh of your ass, guiding your movement like he needs it just as bad. You’re whimpering into the heated space between you, clinging to his hoodie, your body trembling slightly with every slow drag of your hips over his. Your panties are soaked. His pants are straining. The windows are fogging up, and the whole car smells like weed, sweat, and heat. He tilts his head, catching your mouth again in another deep, tongue-heavy kiss, like he can’t stop tasting you. His hand slides up your waist, grazing under the curve of your chest over the thin fabric of your dress, and you shudder, moaning softly into his mouth. Then he pulls back, just a little, resting his forehead against yours as both of you try to breathe. “Fuck,” he whispers, chest rising and falling beneath you. “You look so fucking pretty like this.” You blink at him, dazed, lips swollen and barely parted, still trying to catch your breath. He looks at you for a long second, hands still on your waist, grounding you. “I don’t wanna do this in the car,” he says, voice rough. “You deserve better than that.” Your breath hitches, heat flaring even higher at how serious he sounds. “Wanna go to my place?” he murmurs, brushing his thumb along your side. You nod slowly, shy but needy, your fingers curling in the collar of his shirt, a little scared to let go. “Yeah,” you whisper, barely audible. “Okay.” He kisses you once more, soft and sweet, before pulling back just enough to reach for the keys.
The door shut with a quiet click, sealing you into the warmth of his place. It was dark, mostly, just the glow of a streetlamp slipping through the blinds, casting faint lines across the floor. Neither of you spoke. You turned slightly, lips parting like you might say something, but he was already reaching for you. His hands found your waist in the dark, pulling you in with no hesitation, and his mouth was on yours before you could even breathe. Kissing you hungrily, deep and needy. Everything he hadn’t said tonight was pouring out of him all at once, into the way he held you, the way his lips moved over yours. His grip was firm, hands splayed over your hips, your back arching into him as you kissed him back just as desperately. He walked you backwards without breaking the kiss, slow, steady steps through the short hallway, lips never leaving yours. You barely registered the corners of the space or how you ended up where you did until the back of your knees hit something soft. And then he was lowering you onto the bed. The mattress dipped beneath you, and your breath caught as he hovered above you, eyes dark and steady on yours. Then, without a word, he zipped down his hoodie and took it off. Now just in a white tank, it clung to his frame in all the right places, the cut of his collarbone visible, shoulders broad and sharp under the light. He looked down at you for a second longer, breathing hard, gaze lingering on your face like he couldn’t believe you were really there. Then he leaned down, kissing you again, less rushed, but just as intense. His hands slid up your sides, fingertips ghosting over the fabric of your dress, moving deliberately, memorizing the shape of you. You whimpered softly into his mouth, fingers curling in the hem of his shirt. He pulled back for a second, eyes flicking between yours, voice low and wrecked. “You good?” he asked, forehead brushing yours. You nodded, cheeks burning, lips swollen already. “Yeah,” you whispered. “I’m good.”
He didn’t wait long after your answer. His mouth moved to your neck, warm and open, lips brushing your skin before he started kissing, slow, deliberate, dragging his tongue gently along the curve of your throat. You gasped, breath hitching as he sucked softly at a spot just below your jaw. Then again, a little lower. Your hips twitched beneath him when you felt his teeth graze you. “Weno—” you whispered, but it came out as more of a breath than a word. “You’re so pretty” he murmured, voice barely there, like he was talking to himself. “Always are.” His hand moved down slowly, slipping over your waist and along the outside of your thigh before sliding back up under the hem of your dress. His touch was patient, teasing, he didn’t rush. Just let his fingertips brush along the top of your thigh, higher and higher until they were tracing the edge of your panties. He pushed the fabric of your underwear to the side, slowly, and let his fingers slide between your folds, touching your bare heat. You gasped, head tilting back into the pillow, lips parting in a silent moan. “Shit,” he whispered, breath warm against your collarbone. “So soaked f’me, baby.” Your cheeks burned, thighs tensing slightly around his hand. He kissed the hollow of your throat, then lower, just above your chest, tongue wet and warm as his fingers began to move—slow circles at first, barely-there pressure that made you squirm beneath him. His free hand gripped your waist, holding you steady like he could feel how close you already were, how much you wanted him. “You’re so sensitive,” he muttered, voice deep and low, teeth grazing your skin as he kissed up to your ear.
You whimpered his name, hips grinding into his hand without meaning to. His fingers never stopped moving, dragging slick circles against your clit as he kept his mouth on your neck. Every kiss felt more urgent, but not rushed. It wasn’t just lust. It was something else. Something heavier. And then he leaned up, lips brushing the shell of your ear, his voice barely above a whisper. “I think about you all the time,” he murmured, breath warm, fingers still teasing between your thighs. “Even when I’m not supposed to. Even when I try not to.” Your heart flipped, aching at how raw it sounded coming from him. “I don’t even think you know what you do to me,” he continued, a soft kiss behind your ear. “How long I’ve wanted you like this. Letting me touch you.” The words hit harder than anything else had—deeper than the kisses, deeper than his touch. Your chest tightened, eyes fluttering shut as your fingers slid into his hair, pulling him down until your lips met again. Your moans melted into his mouth, the rhythm of his fingers picking up as your hips rolled up into his hand. His other hand gripped your thigh, spreading you wider for him.
And then, without warning, he shifted his hand lower, deeper. Your lips parted in a quiet gasp as he slid one finger inside you, slow and careful. Your walls clenched around the intrusion, already aching from how worked up you were, how long he’d been teasing. He didn’t wait long before easing in a second finger, stretching you just a little more. His movements were smooth, curling them up inside you just right, drawing out whiny, breathless little sounds from your throat you couldn’t hold back. You buried your face in his shoulder, hands gripping his bicep, your hips rocking involuntarily into every slow thrust of his fingers. He moved deep and steady, his palm pressing into you, thumb dragging lazy circles over your clit in rhythm. He kept moving inside you, slow and deep, curling just right. You were so close, the tension winding tighter and tighter in your stomach, breath catching with every stroke. But just as your legs began to shake, just as your hips bucked up into his hand with a quiet, desperate moan—he pulled out. You whined at the loss, hips stuttering forward instinctively, chasing the friction. “Weno…” “I know,” he murmured, breathless himself, voice thick with need. “I know, baby.” He leaned back just enough to pull his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere to the side. The soft light coming through the cracked door hit his chest just right—shoulders broad, abs toned, skin flushed and warm. His chain shifted against his skin when he moved.
Then he was reaching for you again, hands gentle. “Can I?” he asked, fingers brushing the hem of your dress. You nodded, cheeks hot, eyes wide and dazed. “Y-Yeah” He pulled it up slowly, lifting it over your head. His eyes dropped to your body as it was revealed to him—bare chest, soft skin, rising and falling with every shaky breath. He leaned his mouth to your nipple, giving it a soft suck while sliding your panties down your legs, dragging his hands along your thighs as he did. Then he moved lower. He settled between your legs like he belonged there, hands spreading your thighs gently, thumbs brushing along the inside. You whimpered, body already arching at the sight of him down there, the feel of his breath ghosting over your skin. “So fuckin’ perfect,” he muttered, more to himself than anything, eyes locked on your soaked center. And then he leaned in. His tongue was warm, slow, one long, deliberate lick up your folds that made your back arch off the bed. Then again, this time with more pressure, more intent. His mouth locked over your clit, sucking softly before he flattened his tongue and circled it. You gasped, hands flying to his hair, fingers tangling as your thighs tried to close around his head. He just groaned into you, gripping your hips and pulling you closer, keeping you wide open for him. The sounds—wet, messy, sinful—filled the room along with your breathy moans, soft whimpers, the quiet creak of the mattress beneath you.
He didn’t stop. His tongue moved with purpose, lapping, circling, flicking. You couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t do anything but moan, soft and desperate, your hips twitching with every stroke of his tongue. And then you felt his hand again. Sliding up the inside of your thigh, fingers trailing through your slick folds before one dipped inside you, curling instantly. Your mouth fell open in a silent cry. He added a second immediately, stretching you and pumping into you while his mouth never left your clit. “Weno—fuck,” you whimpered, body jolting as he curled his fingers just right. Your walls clenched around him, needy and tight. His groan vibrated through you when he felt it. His tongue pressed harder, fingers pumping deep and slow—each drag of his knuckles making your toes curl. Your moans got higher, breathier, as your body trembled under his touch. “You close, baby?” he muttered against your clit, fingers never slowing. “Wanna feel you cum on my fuckin’ fingers.” You nodded, frantic, too far gone to speak. Your back arched, thighs shaking as he held you open, ruined you with his mouth, pushed his fingers deep inside you until the heat building in your stomach finally snapped. You came hard, legs trembling, hips stuttering, a loud moan spilling from your lips as everything clenched and pulsed around him. Fingers still working you gently through it while his tongue slowed, easing the intensity but never leaving you empty. Weno pressed one last kiss to your thigh, lips lingering as he pulled his fingers from you slowly, savoring the way your body jolted at the loss. He sat back on his heels, chest rising and falling a little faster now, eyes heavy as they dragged up your body.
You watched, dazed, flushed, and breathless as he reached for the waistband of his cargos, unbuttoning and sliding them down. They hit the floor with a quiet thud, leaving him in just his boxers—black, stretched tight over the obvious bulge straining against the fabric. He palmed it slowly, eyes still fixed on you, thumb pressing down over the thick outline like it ached. You squirmed beneath him, breath catching again when he leaned forward, caging you in with his arms. He kissed you slow and deep, tongue sliding over yours, moaning into your mouth. Then he reached between you and pushed his boxers down just enough to free himself, hissing softly when his length sprang free and brushed against your thigh. “You still good?” he whispered, pressing his forehead to yours, his thumb caressing your cheek. You nodded, voice caught in your throat. “Yeah… I want you.” That was all he needed. He reached down, guiding himself to your entrance, dragging the tip through your slick folds, teasing you both with the heat of it. His hand found your waist again, grounding you as he pushed in slowly—inch by inch, thick and hot and stretching you just right. You gasped, nails digging into his biceps, body arching as he filled you completely.“Fuck,” he breathed out against your mouth, kissing you again as he bottomed out. “So tight. So good.” He didn’t move right away. Just stayed there, buried deep, letting you adjust while he pressed soft kisses to your jaw, your cheek, your lips. His hands smoothed over your sides, grounding you. And then he started to move.
He started slow and deep, rolling thrusts that dragged every inch of him along your walls. Your body clung to him, welcoming each stroke like it had been waiting, aching, for this exact moment. His hands moved down your sides, palms warm and firm, before sliding under your thighs to hitch your legs higher around his waist. The new angle made you gasp, your head falling back into the pillow as he sank even deeper. “That’s it,” he whispered, voice all breath and gravel, “So fucking perfect like this.” You whimpered, lips parting with every slow rock of his hips, every soft press of his chest to yours. One of his hands slipped under your back, pulling you closer, the other traveling to cup your breast, squeezing gently, thumb circling your nipple. “Love your body,” he murmured against your skin, lips brushing your collarbone. “Every inch. All mine now, yeah?” You could only nod, breath shaky, heart pounding. He moved again—long, deep thrusts that made your thighs tremble around him, that had you clinging tighter to his shoulders, trying to ground yourself in his touch. “So fuckin’ good,” he groaned, kissing your neck, “Fuck—look at how you take me.” He slid his hand down to your ass, gripping it tightly, pulling you up into each thrust, letting you feel just how hard he was holding back. You cried out softly, tears blurring your vision as the heat coiled tighter and tighter inside you. You felt stretched, full…loved. Every part of him was on you, in you, his lips, his hands, his voice. He slowed for just a second, chest heaving as he looked down at you.
His hand cradled your jaw, thumb brushing your lip as he whispered, “No one’s ever made me feel like this.” You blinked, another tear slipping free. He caught it with a kiss. He pushed in deep again, groaning low as your body clenched around him. Your eyes fluttered shut as your lips parted in a sob, overwhelmed. The pleasure, the emotion—it was too much, and not enough. You gasped out his name, voice broken, tears spilling freely now. “You’re doin’ so good,” he breathed, kissing the corner of your mouth. “So good for me. You feel so fuckin’ good—can’t get enough of you, baby.” He cupped your breast again, his other hand squeezing your ass as he rocked deeper, firmer, filling you completely with every thrust. The mattress creaked beneath you, skin slapping, breathy moans and whimpers. He lift your legs higher, folding them up toward your chest as his hands slid beneath your knees, guiding you open. His body shifted with yours, hovering close, his chest pressing to yours as he settled into the new position. You were utterly vulnerable, and so full. “Fuck,” he breathed as he pushed back in—deeper, impossibly deep, the new angle hitting something inside you that made your mouth fall open in a silent gasp. Your thighs trembled against his sides, your arms wrapping tight around his shoulders as he rocked into you again, slow and hard. His face was right above yours, eyes dark, mouth parted, breath hot on your cheek. His forehead pressed to yours. You pulled him down, fingers tangling in his hair, and kissed him hard, messy, open-mouthed, desperate. You sobbed into the kiss, the pleasure blurring everything, making your whole body feel like it was about to break apart in the best way.
He moaned against your mouth, thrusts picking up just slightly, deeper and deeper, hips pressing you into the mattress. One of his hands cradled your cheek as the other gripped under your thigh, holding you open for him while his body kept driving into yours, filling you perfectly. “You feel like heaven,” he whispered, kissing along your jaw between gasps. “So good for me, baby… fuck.” Your body clenched tight around him, your moans turning into cries as your nails dug into his back. “Weno— I’m close, I—please,” you gasped, barely able to form the words through the sobs that kept catching in your throat. “I got you,” he panted, hips grinding down, pace relentless now. “Cum for me, baby. Wanna feel you.” It only took another stroke. One more hit just right, and you shattered. Your second orgasm came, stealing the breath from your lungs. Your back arched, tears slipping down your cheeks as you sobbed his name, legs shaking violently around him. You clung to him like he was the only thing tethering you to earth. “Shit—baby—fuck—” he groaned, eyes squeezing shut as your body pulsed around him. “So good. So fucking good.” He barely lasted another few thrusts before he was pulling out quickly, stroking himself through the last moments, his body jerking forward with a final moan as he spilled across your stomach, thick and warm. He collapsed onto his forearms above you, forehead to yours again, breath ragged, lips ghosting yours.
He was still above you, body trembling slightly as he caught his breath, his lips brushing yours in soft, lingering kisses that felt more like confessions than touches. You were trying to breathe too, heart racing, chest rising and falling as your mind spun. Every nerve in your body was still alive, aching with how full he made you feel—physically, emotionally, all of it. And yet, even in the quiet after, something heavy sat in your chest. You swallowed hard, fingers fidgeting at his sides, your eyes darting everywhere but his face. You could feel it pressing against your tongue—those words—so big and so terrifying, but so real. Too real to keep inside. “Weno…?” you whispered, voice barely audible. He blinked down at you, soft and hazy from the afterglow. “Yeah, baby?” Your lip trembled as you looked up at him, wide-eyed and afraid. “I… I think I’m in love with you.” The second the words left your mouth, your stomach dropped. You felt exposed, like you’d stripped yourself bare in a whole new way. Your eyes filled with panic—what if he didn’t feel the same? What if this ruined everything? “I—I’m sorry,” you added quickly, voice cracking. “I didn’t mean to ruin it, I just—fuck, I don’t know, I just feel so much and I couldn’t keep it in and—” He cut you off with a kiss. Not a soft one, not a careful one, but deep, sure. His hand cupped your face as he leaned into you, kissing you like he needed to feel every word you’d just said on his tongue.
When he finally pulled back, his thumb brushed beneath your eye, catching the little tear that had escaped down your cheek. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he whispered. “You could never ruin anything.” Your heart fluttered painfully. “I’ve been in love with you,” he said, voice a little hoarse. “Since before I even knew what to call it. You don’t scare me, baby. You’re the only thing that’s ever made sense.” He kissed you again, tender. His hands wrapped around you, pulling you close until your body was pressed to his, skin to skin, and you could barely breathe from how tight he held you. You buried your face in his neck, arms tucked between your chests, your heart pounding against his. The silence that followed was heavy with warmth—safe, soft. Eventually, he shifted just enough to reach for the blunt on his nightstand, lighting it with a quiet flick of his lighter. The glow lit up his face in soft orange as he took a long drag, exhaling with a sigh, head tilted back slightly. You curled into him, cheek pressed to his chest, ear catching the steady thrum of his heartbeat. His arm came around you instinctively, holding you tighter, and his hand drifted lazily into your hair, fingers combing through the strands. You didn’t speak. You didn’t have to. He held you like he was never letting go.
pairing: badboy!nicholas x afab!reader
genre: college!au, strangers to lovers, downbad!nicholas, smut (mdni)
synopsis: you knew of him and his reputation, your friends always sharing the new gossip surrounding the campus bad boy. he had no idea who you were, not until you caught his attention at a party and changed his world.
warnings: explicit sexual content, mentions of drugs, alcohol consumption, p in v, unprotected sex (dont), oral (f recieving), pussy drunk nicholas, pantie sniffing, creampie, possessiveness
disclaimers: a bit of a slow start... purely fictional!! all parties are consenting!! not proofread!! mentions of other idols as side characters - purely fictional personalities !(jungwon from enhypen, sakura from le sserafim, &team members)
word count: 8.8k
requested? yes
"I heard that he can't even use the bathroom in his dorm because it's full of plants!" Jungwon whispered to you and Sakura as you sat at your usual spot in the campus cafe.
"Well, that's just impractical." Sakura scoffed, rolling her eyes at the new gossip Jungwon was feeding you both. Your eyes flicked between the two of them as you held your coffee to your lips.
"I don't think a drug dealer cares about things like that," Jungwon replied before taking a sip of his own drink.
"I'd disagree." You finally spoke, contributing to the conversation, "Practicality would be extremely important. Making sure you are making enough product for your client base without ruining the quality, while also making sure you don't get caught. Plus numerous other things."
Sakura and Jungwon stared at you, Jungwon choking on his drink as he tried not to laugh before speaking, "Y/N, are you secretly a drug dealer?"
"Yeah, what the hell!" Sakura interjected, "You never engage in our conversations about Nicholas, but the mention of how drug dealers operate makes you contribute?"
You shrugged, putting your coffee down on the table, "It was the only part of the conversation that interested me. Hearing about Nicholas all the time is boring."
"You didn't deny being a drug dealer!" Jungwon gasped, pointing at you dramatically.
"Jungwon, we spend almost every waking moment together, we live together. I think you would know if I were a drug dealer." You laughed, shaking your head at the younger boy.
"I don't know what you do when I'm asleep." He mumbled, sending you a sideways glance as he took another sip of his drink.
"Y/N's way too tame to be a drug dealer, Wonnie." Sakura stated matter-of-factly. "She doesn't even come to campus parties! She'd need to be there if she wanted to make bank as a dealer."
"I just don't see the point in going." You sighed, looking between your friends. "I drink with you guys, don't I?"
"Yeah! And you're so much fun when we drink together!" Jungwon exclaimed, drink landing on the table louder than intended. "Imagine how many more friends you would have, how much bigger a social life, if others got to see you like that?"
"Okay, firstly, I'm content with the number of friends I have, and the state of my social life." You sent Jungown a slight glare before continuing, "Secondly, I'm comfortable around you guys, you're my best friends, of course I'm going to be fun around you two."
"She has a point," Sakura began, drink still in her hands, "We see the sides of her that no one else sees, drunk or not. I still remember when Euijoo was your project partner, and he asked me if you hated him because of how short you were with him." Sakura laughed at the memory from two years ago, when college was still fresh and exciting.
"Hey, Euijoo and I are close now." You pouted, not wanting to remember how badly you felt for making him feel that way. You never intend to make anyone feel uncomfortable or to come off as disliking them, but it was hard for you to be comfortable around new people.
Being partnered with Euijoo at the beginning of college was a blessing in disguise. He was so kind to you, so patient, never crossing any boundaries; you couldn't help but soften up around him. It helped prepare you for other collaborative projects throughout your studies. Thanks to Euijoo, you learned how to be approachable, communicate better, but still keep the distance you wanted between other classmates. Except for him, of course.
Euijoo wasn't one of your best friends, but he was definitely closer to you than most other people. It was hard to not like him with his gentle personality, and after your project together, you ended up staying in touch. You honestly believe that if it wasn't for the fact that he was extremely popular, you would have hung out more and ultimately been as close to him as you are to the two in front of you.
"Speaking of Euijoo," Jungwon broke you out of your thoughts with his energetic voice, "I still can't get over the fact he's friends with Nicholas."
"He's friends with everybody," Sakura stated, staring at Jungwon like he should already know this.
"Yeah, but he's best friends with Nicholas. It's just such an odd match."
Before you could add to the conversation, you felt a presence behind you coming closer. A hand landed on your shoulder lightly, followed by a calm voice, "I heard my name, so I decided to come over."
You turned around to see Euijoo smiling at you all, slipping into the seat beside you before continuing. "Don't worry, everyone is always shocked that Nicholas and I are so close."
You sighed, shaking your head at your two gossiping friends, before sending Euijoo an apologetic glance. He just smiled at you, completely unbothered by the fact that he had been the centre of your conversation for a moment.
A laugh escaped his lips as he saw the grimace on both Jungwon and Sakura's faces due to being caught gossiping by the person themselves. Mumbled sorrys escaped their lips as they avoided eye contact with Euijoo, who shook his head before speaking again. "There's no need to apologise for being curious. You weren't saying anything bad."
Jungwon's mood immediately perked up, his filter completely gone again as he asked, "So why are you guys so close?"
"I mean, there's not much to it. We met as teenagers and just meshed well together. I'd say we really value each other." Euijoo replied with a smile, voice still as calm as ever, before he turned to you and changed the topic. "Y/N, I wanted to ask you something."
"Go ahead."
Euijoo took a breath in before his words came out at an uncommon speed. "Hear me out, okay? It's my birthday on the weekend, and some of my close friends are throwing a party for me. I know you don't go to parties, but I really want you there. Will you come?"
For a moment, you just stared at the boy next to you, shocked at the speed he just spoke. His eyes were hopeful, looking into yours, pleading with you to agree. You sighed to yourself, not wanting to let down the friend who had never let you down before.
"Is it going to be a big party?" You asked, holding his gaze to look for any hints of dishonesty. The two friends across from you, holding their breaths in hopes you would agree to your first college party.
"No, I asked them to keep it quite small, no more than 20 people." He spoke with no hesitation, no notions of any dishonesty.
"Okay, I'll go." You nodded, a small hint of anxiety already setting in. Jungwon and Sakura had to hold themselves back from screaming with joy.
Euijoo's smile reached his eyes at your response, a satisfied sigh leaving his lips. "Thank you!" He exclaimed, seeming happier than you would have expected. He turned to Jungwon and Sakura, extending the invite to them before he had to leave.
Your two best friends just stared at you, a million questions running through their minds. You groaned before breaking the silence, "Go ahead. Ask me all your questions."
-------------------------------------
It was the night of Euijoos' birthday, and you were getting ready at your shared apartment with Jungwon. Sakura had arrived already dolled up for the night, now sitting on your bed with Jungwon as you finished getting ready.
"Y/N, are you sure you don't have a crush on Euijoo?" Jungwon asked as he peered up from his phone at you.
You looked at him from the reflection of the mirror, a furrow in your brows. "No, Jungwon, for the 17th time, I don't have a crush on Euijoo. He's just a good friend, and it's his birthday. Plus, he said it was going to be a small party."
"You don't come to the parties I invite you to." He pouted, still staring at you over your phone.
Sakura gave him a light smack on the arm before interjecting. "You invite her to the biggest parties on campus, of course she isn't going to go! Anyway, you should be focusing on the fact that we finally get to party with our girl."
Jungwon and Sakura bickered behind you as you added the final touches to your hair and makeup. You wore your hair out and makeup not too heavy, but done in a way to complement your features. You walked over to your wardrobe to change into your outfit. You pulled on some baggy black jeans that had rips throughout them, a bulky black and silver belt to hold them in place. For your top, a simple black crop that accentuated your figure nicely, and a bulky necklace to go with your belt. You threw on some chunky boots to finish off your look before walking back out to your friends.
They looked you up and down before both giving you a thumbs up, Jungwon the first to speak. "I always forget just how cool you dress when you put the effort in."
"I don't know if that's a compliment or not." You replied, brows furrowed once again because of the younger boy.
"It is! Like you always look cool, but you look extra cool right now... and hot." He sent you a dramatic wink, causing your face to flush as you laughed at him; you weren't good at accepting compliments.
"Enough chit-chat. Let's take some mandatory photos and then head to the party!" Sakura exclaimed, jumping off the bed with excitement.
You got in your Uber after 30 minutes of Sakura's phototime, not being able to leave until she was happy with her photos, the group photos, and your guys' individual photos. You arrived at the address Euijoo had given you, which he explained was his friend's share house, roughly 45 minutes after the given start time.
As you stepped out of the Uber, Sakura grabbed your hand and dragged you into a little huddle with Jungwon. "Y/N, if you feel uncomfortable, if you get too drunk, if you feel unsafe, anything, you let us know and we leave, okay? Just communicate with us as much as possible so you can enjoy your first college party, okay, babe?"
You nodded, sending your friends a smile at their protectiveness over you. Jungwon had grabbed your other hand during the little speech, both him and Sakura giving you a squeeze before you all walked up to the front door.
You took a deep breath in as Sakura's hand reached for the doorknob, pushing the door open with no hesitation. Your eyes stayed locked on the ground as you walked in behind Jungwon, your eyes immediately being filled with the loud bass of the music. You felt Jungwon grab your hand again as your eyes finally lifted off the floor; this was not a small party.
Your eyes were met with a sea of people moving around each other, engaging in conversation, spilling drinks, grinding on each other, and having no concept of personal space. You gulped as Jungwon sent you a confident look and a nod, before pulling you with him through the crowd. Before you realised it, you were outside in the garden, fresh air hitting your skin.
"You good?" Jungwon asked, turning to face you. The garden was still occupied by a large number of people, but it was less intense than the inside of the house. You exhaled a breath you didn't realise you were holding as you nodded, before turning your attention to Sakura, who was standing ahead of you and Jungwon, and looking around the garden. Before you could ask what she was doing, she told the two of you to follow her and walked to the back of the garden.
As she came to a stop, you realised she had led you to where Euijoo was, who immediately approached you as you came to a stop. "Y/N!" He exclaimed, stopping in front of you and examining your face. The smile dropped on his face as he realised you weren't feeling comfortable. "I'm really sorry about this. I swear I told them to keep it small." He spoke with an apologetic tone and a soft look in his eye.
You shook your head, knowing it wasn't his fault for the size of the party, nor your reaction to it. "It's okay, Euijoo. I'll be okay."
He gave you another smile before giving his attention to not only you but the two friends standing next to you as well. "I don't really like big crowds either, so we set up a corner outside with tables, chairs, and a tub full of ice for drinks. If you guys feel comfortable, you're more than welcome to stay with us out here."
"If that's okay with you, I'd love that." You responded before turning to Sakura and Jungwon, "How about you guys?"
"We're with you! Plus, I can see Yuma and Jo, who I already know, so I'll be fine." Jungwon smiled before glancing over to Sakura for her answer.
"I'm fine in any situation, you know that."
Euijoo smiled at you all before walking you over to the area he mentioned. He introduced you to K, Fuma, Taki, and Harua first - they were the ones whose house the party was at. K and Fuma immediately offered their seats on the couch to you and Sakura and wouldn't take no for an answer, refusing to sit back down even as you went off to meet the rest of the group. Then Euijoo introduced you to Yuma, Jo, and Maki who were hanging off of Jungwon as soon as they saw him walk over. Yuma explained that the four of them were always at parties together, and tonight would be no different.
You waved Jungwon off as he questioned if you wanted him to stay with you, walking over to the couch K and Fuma had offered earlier with Euijoo and Sakura. You sat down in the middle with the two of them on either side of you, not expecting the four boys you were introduced to first to drag plastic chairs closer so they could talk with you.
"So, Y/N, how come I've never seen you before?" Questioned K, a curious smile on his face.
"Oh, um... I don't go to parties." You replied with a shy smile, not holding eye contact, finding your hands in your lap more pleasing to look at. K nodded, not pushing the subject further as he sensed your uneasiness around the unfamiliar group.
As time went by, you became more relaxed around Euijoo's friends. Engaging in back-and-forth conversation easily, laughing, and exchanging your most embarrassing moments from the start of college. You always had a drink in your hand, as one of the boys would hand you a new one almost immediately after you finished what was in your hand.
You never thought you would feel so comfortable at a party, but the mix of the alcohol and the kind boys around you made for the perfect situation. Even as Euijoo came back and forth, even as Sakura got up to flirt with the guy who caught her eye, you felt fine.
Right now, you were talking with Euijoo, Fuma and K, all still in the same spots you started in, when you felt the empty spot next to you sink down.
"Nicholas! Finally!" K exclaimed, reaching over to slap the new body next to you on the thigh. You looked over, the name not registering in your brain until you saw him.
"Hey guys, did ya miss me?" He replied, a smirk on his lips. A chorus of dramatic and sarcastic replies followed, a laugh falling from his lips at the response.
You didn't even realise you were staring until the boy's sharp eyes locked with yours, a confident smirk spread across his face as he spoke. "And who are you, pretty?"
Before you could even muster up a response, Euijoo was replying for you. "This is Y/N. Friend of mine, so don't overstep Nicholas."
Nicholas nodded, eyeing you up and down briefly before extending his hand, "Nice to meet you, Y/N."
You shook his hand quickly, offering a small nod, before you tore your eyes away from him and found entertainment with your lap again. He was gorgeous, and yes, you knew this already, but seeing him this close? It was ridiculous. However, as much as you admired his looks, you weren't the type to get caught up in that. You shook your head, getting rid of the fleeting feelings that made you freeze up in his presence, and rejoined the conversation.
Next to you, Nicholas leaned back on the couch, sending Euijoo a questioning look. He had never seen you before, never heard of you, and that intrigued him. He thought he knew everyone on campus; he made it his job to know everyone on campus, so how did you escape him?
Euijoo motioned his head towards the house, signaling for Nicholas to follow him. They walked inside, heading to the kitchen before finding a corner that had the most privacy.
"Why don't I know her? Is she new to campus? Is she not from campus?" Nicholas began immediately, questions flying out of his mouth.
"She's from campus. She just doesn't do the whole party thing." Euijoo replied, a calm expression on his face as he continued. "She just started feeling comfortable here, so please don't ruin it."
Nicholas scoffed, rolling his eyes at his best friend. "And how would I do that?"
Euijoo stared at Nicholas like he shouldn't have to answer that question, to which Nicholas just stared back, waiting for a response. Euijoo sighed before answering him, "Oh, you know, the usual. Flirt the entire night, then do nothing."
"Okay, I get you, but that's arguably better than fucking everyone I flirt with," Nicholas argued, hands up in defence, "It's not my fault most of the girls at these parties want my attention."
"Look, I get you could be doing worse, I get that you flirt for fun. I'm just asking you not to do that with Y/N. She's a good friend, not just some random girl you won't encounter outside of a party."
Nicholas tilted his head, a playful smirk on his face, "I haven't encountered her until now, have I?" Euijoo glared at him in response, not finding his comment funny in the slightest. "I'm joking, I'm joking. I hear you, I'll be good. But I can still make conversation, right?"
Euijoo nodded, walking over to the fridge to grab more drinks for the tub outside. Nicholas helped him, reaching for more of the drink he saw in your hand earlier, as well as his favourite drink.
Arriving back at the area where his friends were, he couldn't help but watch you as you spoke with K and Fuma, along with Yuma, Jo, Maki, and Jungwon, who had joined you while he was gone. He watched the way your eyes flickered between everyone talking, the slight smile on your face, and the way your face scrunched up as you laughed.
He walked back over to the couch, standing in front of Yuma, who had taken his place on the couch. "Yuma, can I have my spot back?"
Yuma just looked up at him, brow lifted in curiosity at his request. But before he could respond, tease Nicholas, possibly embarrass him for the first time ever, Maki was dragging him out of the couch and over to the newly set up beer pong table, along with Jo and Jungwon.
Nicholas saw you pout at their departure, a small smirk appearing on his face, "Sorry, did you want them to stay?"
You tilted your head at his question, "I don't think it was your presence that caused Maki to drag them all to the beer pong table."
Nicholas chuckled in response, leaning back against the couch, arm thrown over the back of it behind you. His eyes stayed locked on your face as he responded, "Damn, I was hoping I scared them off."
"Why would you want that?"
Nicholas raised his eyebrow at you, "Maybe so I can live up to my reputation?"
You scoffed in response, completely aware of the rumours that followed his name. The serial flirt, the drug dealer, the fighter, the bad boy, the guy to stay away from if you didn't want trouble. It baffled you that he wanted to live up to the baseless rumours that were attached to him.
You turned to him, curiosity now filling your body. You wanted to know if the rumours were true, if he really was someone you should avoid, and for the first time since you heard his name, you weren't bored.
"You really want to be associated with all those rumours?" You questioned, eyes locked on his. Nicholas' eyes sparkled, excitement filling his body at your reaction to him. You weren't intimidated by him, by his reputation, you didn't flirt, didn't try to put moves on him. You questioned him, you held his gaze, and you didn't back down.
"Why not? It's not like I can stop people talking." He leaned forward slightly, using the armrest to his advantage. He leaned his head in his hand, but never broke eye contact with you. "People know I sell weed, it's not like I try and hide it. I can't hide it if I want to make money, it comes with the job. But so does a reputation."
"I get that, but I wouldn't want lies being spread about me."
"Who says any of the rumours are lies?" He tries to push you, seeing if you'll back down, if you'll get scared, but you just roll your eyes; it sends a spark of electricity through his body. He lets out another small laugh at your response to him before speaking again. "I don't care what these people think of me, they aren't important to me."
You sit with his words for a brief moment before questioning him again, "So you care what some people think? The important people?"
He looks at you for a moment, wondering if he should respond honestly or be dismissive, but that lingering feeling of curiosity decides for him; honesty. "The people who are important in my life know me well enough that I don't need to bother with the gossip."
You smile, getting the answer you wanted, the small evidence that he isn't like the rumours say. He notices your smile and can't stop the smirk forming on his face. He leans forward until his face is in front of yours, slightly invading your personal space, "Why ya smiling?"
Before you realise it, you're talking more than you ever have to someone you just met. "It's just funny to me. I've heard so much gossip surrounding you, and honestly, I never cared, never understood everyone's fascination with you. Quite frankly, I found it boring, found the idea of you boring. But now I, someone so insignificant in your life, also knows you aren't like the rumours say... and that makes you so much more entertaining."
Nicholas can't help but burst out laughing, clutching his stomach as he tries to calm down. "No one has ever said I'm boring before," he spoke between breaths, "No one has ever been so upfront with me. You're interesting, Y/N."
You laugh with him, unable to stop yourself, as the sound of his laugh is intoxicating. You watch the way his face scrunches up, the way he loses himself in the moment, and for a moment you think you might like to see this more often.
He calms down eventually, eyes back on you as you bring your drink to your mouth. Without a second thought, he pulls out his phone, passing it to you with a new contact screen open. "Put your number in."
You raise a brow at him, "Not when you say it like that."
He rolls his eyes, an exaggerated groan leaving his lips, "Can you please put your number in my phone?"
"Why?"
"Do you really have to make it this hard?" He groans again, looking at the amusement on your face. You don't respond, just keep staring at him. "You're actually going to make me tell you why?"
You nod, amused by his reactions and the sheer fact that he asked for your number. "Yes, Nicholas, I am. Tell me why I should give my number to the guy known as a serial flirt."
He shakes his head at you, but there's a smile tugging at his lips. "I want to get to know you better, Y/N. In a purely innocent, non-flirtatious way, I promise."
-------------------------------------
It had been two weeks since Euijoos' birthday. Two weeks since you got a glimpse at the real Nicholas, the most gossiped-about person on campus. Two weeks since he started messaging you daily, even if you didn't respond. Two weeks since your small, unacknowledged crush began.
Now you were about to leave your apartment to see him, to spend time with the boy who brought unexpected excitement into your life. But not before Jungwon expressed his shock for the millionth time at your newfound connection.
"I just don't get it." He exclaims from your bed, "You guys are so different. He goes to every campus party, he knows everyone, and he's a literal bad boy. And you? You're the homebody that no one recognises, the quiet student who couldn't care less about campus life."
"I know you don't get it, Jungwon. You haven't stopped telling me about your shock since Euijoo's birthday."
Jungwon sighs at your response, dramatically falling back onto the bed. "You literally never make new friends. Why is he different?"
"I'm just intrigued." You respond, sitting on the edge of the bed, to look at your best friend. "I want to see just how false the rumours are."
Jungwon shakes his head, like he can't understand your logic. But before you can think about replying, your phone buzzes with a message from Nicholas, telling you he's outside.
You say goodbye to Jungwon before making your way outside of your apartment building. When you finally step foot out of the building, the night air sends a slight shiver down your spine. You notice a running car parked on the other side of the road, the window winding down to reveal Nicholas in the driver's seat.
You walk over and get into his car, sighing in content at the warmth that envelops you. Nicholas' attention is on you, watching your every move - the way you push some hair behind your ear before you reach for the seatbelt, the way you smile when you finally make eye contact with him. He feels the same spark of electricity as he did at Euijoos' birthday, and he finally realises: he's fucked.
"So where are we going?" You ask, breaking him out of his thoughts.
"Lookout?" He asks questioningly, like he wants your approval first.
"Sounds good." You nod, a slight smile on your face.
Nicholas puts his car in drive and pulls onto the road, one hand on the steering wheel, the other sitting in his lap. He glances at you a few times, not being able to keep his full attention on the road. He thinks you don't notice him until a giggle falls from your lips.
"Why do you keep looking at me?"
"Just making sure you're okay, comfortable." He nods as he speaks, like he's trying to convince both himself and you. He sees you shake your head slightly from the corner of his eye, the smile never leaving your lips - it causes a smirk to form on his face. "Why do you look so happy?"
You turn to look at him, noticing the small smirk on his face - it causes your chest to flutter slightly. "I'm just looking forward to getting to know you better."
"Careful Y/N, I might think you're flirting with me." He laughs, eyes flicking to you briefly before continuing, "And I said this is strictly platonic."
Nicholas pulls the car over to the lookout's car bays, putting the car in park before turning to you. "Do you want to stay in the car, or get out for a bit?"
"Let's enjoy the view." You respond, unbuckling your seatbelt and getting out of the car. Nicholas follows closely behind you, hands in his pockets as he waits for you to pick a spot.
You lean against the railing of the lookout, taking in the view of your city that looks ridiculously small right now. Nicholas takes his place beside you, copying your posture as he lets out a content sigh.
"I've actually been looking forward to this." He speaks into the air, eyes still focused on the view.
You raise an eyebrow at him before responding, "Really?"
"Yeah," he breathes, turning his head to look at you. "To hang out with someone who will actually hold a conversation with me."
"Your buyers not very good conversationalists?" You query teasingly.
He scoffs, shaking his head at you. "They're either only interested in me for the weed, or they're scared of me."
"What about the girls? The ones who cling to you for attention?" You question him, wanting to extract as much information from him as possible.
"They don't want conversation," he laughs, as if you should already be aware of this, "They just want to be with a bad boy."
"And what about you? What do you want from them?"
He pauses for a moment, scanning your face, feeling the electricity in his chest rising again. He looks back ahead before answering. "Nothing. I don't want anything from them."
You tilt your head to the side slightly, processing his response. Nicholas catches it from his peripheral, curiosity filling his mind as he wonders what you'll say next.
You're still looking at him, deciding to continue your questions rather than get caught up in your own mind. "So if you want nothing from them, why do you bother entertaining them? Why make them think they have a chance?"
He doesn't look at you, he just nods to himself, like he knew you would ask something like that. He experiences a fleeting feeling of worry - worrying that this topic, his answers, might disgust you - as he goes to respond.
"There's a few reasons," he starts, glancing at you to see if he should continue. Your small nod encourages him to continue. "First, it's too much effort to push them away, tell them to stop. Second, they're either with buyers, or buyers themself. Upsetting them could cause a scene and result in a loss of income. Third, it provides some entertainment at least, you know... their reactions and desperation."
He doesn't realise he's holding his breath while you stand in silence. He avoids looking at you, his attention staying ahead of him. The unusual feeling of anxiety creeps in again; Nicholas curses himself at the effect you have on him, the fact that he seems to care what you think.
"I feel like the only reasonable answer is the loss of income." You speak, still staring at him even as he avoids looking at you. "If I look at it from that perspective, then I can understand the first reason as well. Rejecting someone is an effort, and you wouldn't want to cause a scene, like you said."
His eyes open slightly with shock, not expecting you to understand, or try to understand, his reasons. He turns to you now, only slightly, and breathes a sigh of relief when your eyes lock with no hostility evident.
"But?" He questions, knowing you have more to say.
"But," you begin, eyes locked on his, "the third reason just makes you sound lonely."
His mouth falls open, a look of shock on his face that makes a smirk creep onto your lips. You turn away, holding back a laugh, as Nicholas just stares at you.
He doesn't even know how to respond; his mind is reeling. 'Lonely? She thinks I sound lonely? That just makes me seem pathetic.'
He coughs, clearing his throat before speaking. "I thought you would have reprimanded me for leading them on."
"I mean, it's not the nicest thing to do, obviously. But you're single and not every flirtatious encounter ends in sex." You nod, eyes still ahead of you.
Nicholas hums in response, fascinated by your reaction, your words. His curiosity was growing, the electricity feeling more intense; he wants to know you.
"What about you?" He begins, eyes on you, not having moved since earlier. "What do you do when you get hit on?"
You scoffed, like what he asked you was the most idiotic question you had ever heard. "I don't get hit on."
It was his turn to scoff, not believing you for a second. You turned to him again, raising a brow as he spoke. "I don't believe that."
"It's true. I've made it a habit to stay invisible and not let people in. It's clearly worked."
"Until now." He smirks, feeling a sense of pride in the fact that he managed to get your attention. The blush that appears on your cheeks doesn't go unnoticed by him, fueling his ego and confidence.
"I thought you said this was strictly platonic." You teased, never breaking eye contact with him.
He raises his hands in a sign of surrender, a small laugh escaping his lips. "It was, I swear."
"Was?" You question again, heart beat steadily increasing, body temperature slowly rising.
"You want the truth?" He asks, taking a small step towards you. You nod, eyes glued to his.
"When I first saw you at Euijoo's party and had no clue who you were, I was intrigued. I'm meant to know everyone from campus, so it was a shock to meet someone who had managed to go unnoticed. It was even more shocking to know someone so beautiful had managed to escape me." He took another small step forward, gauging your reaction, eyes locked and full of honesty.
"Euijoo told me not to scare you away, not to treat you like everyone else, which intrigued me even more." Another step, close enough to make you tilt your head up to look at him, but far enough to let you push him away if you wanted to.
"At first, I was genuinely just intrigued. I told myself I would just talk with you and get an understanding of who the mysterious person was. But you pulled me in, Y/N." He reached his hand out, fingers brushing yours before they intertwined together. You held your breath, excitement and nerves mixing together.
"You pulled me in with your confidence, your honesty, your curiosity. I tried to ignore my feelings, stay true to my words of this being strictly platonic, but every text, every conversation ruined my resolve." He took a breath, squeezing your hand before he continued. "You haven't left my mind since that first night, and it's driving me crazy."
You shakily exhale, the breath you were holding finally escaping. You searched his eyes, taking in the vulnerability behind them. Before you could register what you were doing, you leaned up and kissed him.
Nicholas' free hand came to your face, gently holding your jaw as your lips pressed together. He let you lead, not wanting to cross any boundaries. When you deepened the kiss, he melted, a groan rumbling in his chest. Your free hand found his hair, tangling in his locks and earning another groan from Nicholas.
You pulled away, Nicholas' lips following yours before he sighed in defeat. Your forehead rested against his, hand still in his hair, as you finally spoke. "Show me your place?"
------------------------------
As soon as you stepped into Nicholas's dorm, he had you pushed against the door. His hands were on your waist, forehead leaning against your own, eyes blown out with lust. He searched your eyes for any sign of hesitation, gave you a chance to stop his actions. But you just smiled up at him with a flushed face that made him weak in the knees.
He dived in, lips crashing into yours with hunger, hands gripping your hips possessively. You gasped at the feeling of his knee sliding between your legs, pressing into your clothed heat. Nicholas used the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, groaning at the way you reacted to him.
His tongue dominated your mouth, capturing your sounds and swallowing them down his throat. You felt his hand sneak up your side, caressing your curves as until he landed on your covered breast. He squeezed lightly, testing the waters before groping you possessively. You moaned at the sensation, the feeling of his desire already so overwhelming, unintentionally grinding your hips down.
Nicholas pulled away from your lips, smirking at you as he continued to grope your breast. "Is my pretty baby feeling needy?" He teased, eyes locked on you as you tried to catch your breath.
"Nicholas..." You whined, missing his lips on yours. He lifted his knee onto your heat, watching as you gasped slightly before grinding down.
"Do you want something, baby?" He purred, hand still moving on your chest, knee pressed into you.
You nodded, small moans leaving your lips in desperation. He leaned down, lips ghosting your ear as he whispered, "Words, baby."
He kissed your neck, moving down as you became more desperate. "W-want you to touch me." You stuttered, unable to focus on all the places he possessed.
He laughed against your neck, hot breath fanning across you, "I am touching you, baby."
You groaned in frustration, hands tangling in his hair as he began sucking on your neck. You let a moan escape, getting lost in the feeling of his lips, his hands, his knee. "M-make me cum Nico, please..."
Nicholas froze at the nickname, the plea leaving your lips. The blood rushed to his already painfully hard crotch, a groan leaving his mouth. He wrapped his arms under your thighs and lifted, causing you to instinctively wrap your legs around his waist.
He kissed your lips hungrily as he walked you to his bedroom. Kicking the door open with his foot before lying you at the edge of his bed. He stood between your legs, taking in your already fucked-out appearance.
His hand went to your face, holding it gently as he looked into your eyes. "Are you sure you want to keep going?" He questioned, pure adoration filling his face.
"Please, Nicholas..." You whined, rubbing your cheek into his hand.
He groaned, not being able to control the way he reacted to you. His hands found your hips, pulling down your pants in one swift movement. You spread your legs from him, not needing to be told and Nicholas dropped to his knees.
"Fuck baby..." He was almost whining, head pressing into your thigh as he left kisses along you. "You're ruining me."
He placed a kiss on your clothed heat, feeling the wetness immediately. You gasped at the sensation, hips grinding down to chase more. Nicholas couldn't stop himself from pressing his face into your clothed pussy, inhaling your scent like it was a drug.
He moaned as he inhaled you, savouring the sweet smell, before attaching his lips to your wet panties and sucking. He didn't ease you into it, sucking harshly on your clothed bud, hands pushing your hips down as you jerked away.
The sounds leaving your lips were sinful, so caught up in the pleasure that you had lost any sense of reasoning. Your hands gripped the sheets, back arching at the intense feeling between your legs. You peeked down at the man between your legs, core tightening at the sight of his pussy drunk face.
His hair was messy, sticking to his face from sweat, eyes closed, and brows drawn in pleasure. His face was flushed from pure bliss as he continued to inhale your scent and drink your juices through your panties.
He pulled away briefly, eyes meeting yours. His cock twitched in his pants at your fucked out face, blown-out eyes, and the way you locked eyes with him.
He held your gaze as his fingers found the band of your panties, pulling them down your legs. He pulled them to his face, inhaling deeply as you watched, hole cleaning at the sight. He stuffed them in his pocket before his fingers found your core.
You gasped at the feeling of his rough fingers dragging their way through your folds, head falling back onto the bed. Nicholas moaned at the sight of your bare pussy dripping with arousal for him, gathering your slick on his fingers before pushing one in.
You moaned, pussy clenching around the intrusion. Nicholas started slow, savouring the way your walls sucked his finger in, enjoying the way you squirmed. "Your pussy is sucking me in, baby."
You moaned at his words, clenching around his fingers again. Nicholas chuckled, breath fanning against your heat as he leaned closer. He pressed a kiss to your clit, finger still working slowly inside you, drawing out moans and gasps from your lips.
Without warning, he pushed a second finger in, attaching his lips to your bud. Your back arched off the bed, an unholy sound filling the room at the intense pleasure you were now feeling.
Your hands flew to his hair, pulling on the strands in pleasure. Nicholas moaned, the vibrations travelling through you as he set a relentless pace. His mouth swapped between sucking and licking, while his fingers fucked into you, hitting your sensitive spot repeatedly.
You could feel your climax getting closer, core tightening, threatening to snap at any moment. Nicholas could tell you were close to, the way your pussy clenched tighter and your moans got louder. He pulled his mouth away briefly, "Cum for me baby."
That's all it took for you to fall over the edge. Your legs shook violently, walls tightening even more, Nicholas' name falling from your lips like a chant. Nicholas fucked you through it, fingers never stopping, mouth licking up all the juices he could reach.
As you came down, his fingers slowed and pulled out, a whine leaving your lips. Nicholas was still on his knees, sitting back on his heels as he took you in. You whined at the loss of his body heat, sitting up with the help of your arms.
Nicholas looked at you, eyes wide, a mixture of lust and adoration filling his features. Then he brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking off your arousal as he palmed his painful bulge. You whimpered at the sight, how drunk he was off of you, how needy he was.
You mustered your strength and sat up, eyes never leaving his. He pulled his fingers out of his mouth with a pop just as you pulled your shirt over your head. You threw it to the side, body heat increasing at the intensity of Nicholas' stare. A needy moan left his lips as you unclasped your bra, exposing your tits to him, nipples hard from how turned on you were.
You reached forward, grabbing his face in your hands, pulling him towards you. His eyes stayed on you, hands by his side as you leaned into his ear to whisper, "Are you going to fuck me, Nicholas?"
He snapped, hands flying to his shirt and ripping it off. He picked you up, repositioning you on the bed. Your head hit the pillows, and before you could sit up, Nicholas was on you, pants already gone.
You glanced down, whimpering at the sight of his leaking cock. You reached between your bodies, stroking the tip lightly, which caused Nicholas to jolt forward, a moan leaving his lips. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head with one hand before pushing your legs apart with the other.
"Fuck, Y/N..." He moaned, taking in the view of you underneath him. He pushed his hips forward, rubbing his member between your folds. You were both moaning, grinding into each other with need. Nicholas gathered up your arousal on his tip before lining it up at your entrance.
He pushed in with one stroke, bottoming out inside you as your walls sucked him in. You gasped at the stretch, feeling fuller than you ever have. His hands were on your hips, steadying himself as he let you adjust.
Nicholas was shaking, the pleasure and emotion so intense he wasn't sure if he would survive. You wrapped your arms around his neck, causing him to lock eyes with you again. He moaned at the sight, his hips grinding against you in need. You leaned up, placing a kiss on his lips, "Are you okay?"
He whimpered, unable to control himself as he started grinding against you with a steady rhythm, his tip hitting deep inside you. You let your moans escape your lips, hips grinding to meet his.
He was so drunk off of you that he couldn't stop the words falling out of his mouth as he kept grinding into you like a needy virgin. "You feel so good, s-so good. I could live here, stay like this forever. Your pussy was made for me, you were made for me."
Your walls clenched at his words, moans getting louder every time he hit your sweet spot. "F-fuck Nicholas, feels so good, so full. You're so b-big."
Nicholas pulled almost fully out before slamming back into you, your words making him lose control. You almost screamed at the sensation, the pain and pleasure feeling intoxicating.
Nicholas set a ruthless pace, hips slamming into yours, balls slapping against your skin. He couldn't get enough of you, the way you sucked him in, clenched around him like you didn't want him to leave. "You keep pulling me in, baby," He groaned, hips never faltering.
Without stopping, he grabbed your thighs, pushing them into your chest. The new position allowed him to reach deeper inside you, an almost animalistic moan escaping you.
"I wanna hear you baby," he panted, hips slamming into you, "Tell me how good I'm making you feel."
"Feels s-so good, Nicholas," you gasped, eyes almost rolling to the back of your head, nonsense falling from your lips, "You're so big, so big. I love it, l-love your cock inside me."
Nicholas let out a guttural moan, grip tightening on your thighs hard enough to leave bruises. He picked up the pace even more, rougher, needier, more possessive than he has ever been.
"This is my pussy now," he growled, possessiveness taking over his voice. "My pussy, my girl. You're mine."
His words sent you spiraling, walls sucking him even further, clenching down on him impossibly tight. Your second orgasm drawing closer and closer with every thrust, every word.
"You gonna cum, baby?" He panted, eyes locked on you. You nodded, moans falling from your lips excessively. He moaned with you, chasing his own high. "I'm close, baby. Let's cum together, yeah?"
You nodded, words too hard to form between your moans, except for one, "i-inside..."
Nicholas snapped, tipping over the edge at your request. Your name fell from his lips as he filled you up with his cum, thrusting it into you as you came around him.
He collapsed onto you, head on your chest, and breathing out of control. You both stayed there for minutes, catching your breath and taking in what just happened.
Nicholas's head snapped up, eyes locking with yours. He searched for any signs of hurt, discomfort, or regret. He shuffled up, hands caressing your cheeks, "Are you okay?"
You smiled lazily, fatigue taking over your body. "I'm more than okay."
Nicholas smiled like a lovesick puppy, his heart feeling warm at the sight and sound of you. He left the bed for a brief moment to get a damp cloth, cleaning you up gently, leaving soft kisses on every area he touched.
Once he was done, he got back into bed, pulling you into his chest and under the covers. "You're staying."
"I was planning to." You laughed, chin resting on his chest as you stared at him. A blush flew across his cheeks under your gaze, and the fact that you wanted to stay the night.
"You can't seriously be blushing after what we just did." You teased, giggles falling from your mouth.
"It's your fault." He pouted, blush still sitting proudly on his face.
"So..." you began, changing the topic, "I need to know if this is going to be a one-time thing or-"
"NO!" Nicholas shouted, louder than intended, cutting you off before you could finish. He coughed, eyes averted, and was embarrassed at his reaction. "No, I don't want it to be a one-time thing. But if you do, I will respect that."
You laughed, fascinated at how different the boy under you was compared to the rumours. You tapped his chest so he would look at you. "I'd like to see where this goes."
----------------------------
It's been three months since you and Nicholas decided to explore the connection between you. Two months since he officially asked you to be his girlfriend, and now you were about to make your first public appearance as a couple.
No one knew what was going on between the two of you. Your friends were aware that you spent time together, messaged a lot, but they didn't actually think you were in a relationship.
Euijoo invited you to a small party; he assured you it would actually be small this time, as he was in charge. It consisted of Euijoo, K, Fuma, Yuma, Jo, Harua, Taki, Maki, Jungwon, and Sakura - all the people you both wanted to finally come clean to.
You sat in the car with Nicholas, his hand on your thigh as you prepared to go inside. You took a deep breath, giving him a nod to let him know you were ready.
As you walked up to the front door, he linked his hand with yours, giving you a reassuring smile as he opened the door to the house you first met at.
You could hear the voices of your friends travelling through the house, light music playing. Nicholas led you to the doors leading to the garden, opening them as everyone turned around.
You were behind him, unnoticed by your friends, Nicholas' frame blocking their view of you.
"Nicholas! Fashionably late as always." Yuma teased, sending a wave his way.
"Is this everyone?" Nicholas asked, scanning the garden to make sure they were all present.
"We're still waiting on Y/N," Euijoo replied, gesturing to a seat for Nicholas to sit in.
Nicholas stepped outside, pulling you with him as he spoke, "She's right here."
"What the fuck?" Jungwon whispered, eyes almost popping out of his head.
You waved shyly to everyone, not letting go of Nicholas's hand. He gave your hand a squeeze before guiding you over to the chair Euijoo offered.
Not having a care for the way everyone was staring in shock, he sat down and pulled you into his lap, arms wrapping around your waist and head resting on your shoulder. All you could do was bring your hands to your face in embarrassment as Nicholas chuckled at you.
"Okay, so do you want to explain?" Euijoo spoke, brows furrowed at his best friend.
"We're dating," Nicholas answered proudly, giving your waist a small squeeze.
"No, Nicholas, explain everything," Euijoo answered, seriousness in his voice.
Nicholas explained everything to the group for both of you. How he fell first, and incredibly fast and hard. How you just laughed at him when he asked you to be his girlfriend after one date. How he felt the need to prove himself worthy of you, prove he actually wanted a relationship with you. How you challenged him, didn't put up with his facade. How you made him realise things about himself he never knew before. How you didn't care about his drug dealing and actually gave him business advice. How he got into a fight with a guy who called you a bitch in public, and how you scolded him for it afterwards, disclosing that's how he realised he was a switch (you slapped him for that).
Your friends listened, asked questions, and observed the situation. They watched the way you two acted, realising that there was something genuine and pure between you two. They joked about Nicholas being whipped for you, no signs of his bad boy persona present when you were around.
You laughed, knowing the truth. Nicholas wasn't like the rumours said, but he was still trouble. He still grew weed, sold drugs, still got into fights, still intimidated the people he didn't care for - but for you, he was just a boy in love - and honestly? You loved having him all to yourself.
author's note: hi anon! sorry this took so long >.<
i wasn't sure exactly what you wanted and since i'm a sucker for romance i made badboy nicholas a loverboy - i'm a sucker for a boy who doesn't care about anyone but else but his girl
i made this one a bit longer to make up for the wait <3
synopsis: chan spends an entire day convinced you’re upset with him when you don’t answer his messages, only to find out you’re quietly suffering through cramps. the relief is instant, and he makes it his mission to comfort you until you’re smiling again.
warnings: mentions of period blood/cramps, soft angst, extreme fluff.
wc: 3830
You woke up already tired.
The sun filtering through your curtains wasn’t warm and inviting like usual, it was sharp, too bright, almost mocking the dull heaviness in your body. You blinked against it, rolling over and burying your face deeper into your pillow, hoping maybe, just maybe, you could drift back to sleep and ignore the world. But your body had other plans. There was a low ache deep in your stomach, one that you recognized instantly, the kind that made your entire body feel heavier than it should.
“Not today…” you mumbled into the pillow, groaning as you curled your knees up closer to your chest.
It wasn’t unusual. This happened every month, almost like clockwork. But no matter how prepared you tried to be, no matter how many times you went through the routine, it never got easier. The cramps were already building, wrapping around your abdomen like an iron band and tightening bit by bit.
You reached for your phone on the nightstand out of habit, squinting against the light of the screen. A couple of notifications blinked up at you, nothing urgent, just social media, a reminder from your calendar, but you didn’t even bother unlocking it. You weren’t in the mood to scroll, to read, or to interact. Your phone slipped back down to the nightstand with a soft clatter, forgotten almost instantly as another wave of cramps had you squeezing your eyes shut.
All you wanted was relief. Relief, and maybe comfort.
Dragging yourself out of bed felt impossible, but you did it anyway, moving on autopilot. Clean up first. That always came first. You shuffled to the bathroom, slow and clumsy, going through the motions that had become too familiar. Fresh products, washing your hands, splashing cool water on your face. The reflection staring back at you in the mirror looked pale and a little miserable, hair messy from sleep, eyes heavy-lidded with exhaustion.
You sighed, too tired to even think about fixing yourself up. The best you could do was change into something soft, an oversized shirt that hung loosely on your body, a pair of shorts that wouldn’t dig into your waist. You shuffled back into your room, each step weighted down, and practically collapsed onto your bed again.
The blanket was a cocoon, cool at first and then slowly warming with your body heat. You curled into yourself, clutching at your stomach instinctively, even though you knew it didn’t help much. It was just… something. Something to hold onto while your body decided to wage war on you.
Your phone buzzed again, faint on the nightstand, but you didn’t move. You didn’t even check who it was. It could wait. Everything could wait.
Meanwhile, somewhere else across the city, Chan was looking down at his own phone, thumb hovering over the keyboard. He had just finished up a long meeting, the kind that left him drained but buzzing with too many ideas at once. Normally, he’d text you right away, just to check in, to share something funny or complain about how endless the discussions felt.
So that’s what he did.
Chan: Finally done with this meeting, feels like I aged 10 years. Chan: What are you up to?
He stared at the screen, waiting for the little “typing…” bubble to pop up. Usually, it didn’t take long. You were quick to respond, even if it was just a short emoji or a “busy rn.” But the seconds stretched into minutes, and the screen stayed blank.
Chan chewed on his bottom lip, shrugging it off at first. Maybe you were busy. Maybe you were still asleep, though he knew you rarely slept this late. He tossed his phone onto the desk and went back to scribbling in his notebook, letting the beat in his head spill onto paper.
But after an hour, when he checked again, there was still nothing from you.
His fingers tapped out another message almost without thinking.
Chan: Hey, you okay?
Still no reply.
That tiny seed of worry started planting itself in his chest. He tried to brush it off again, telling himself not to overthink, but Chan wasn’t exactly great at not overthinking. Especially when it came to you.
By the time his call went unanswered, the seed had already sprouted, growing heavier with each passing hour.
Back in your bed, you shifted under the blanket, curling deeper into it as another cramp rolled through. You groaned softly, too exhausted to even reach for the phone that lit up again on the nightstand. You barely registered the vibration against the wood before your eyes fluttered shut.
You weren’t ignoring anyone. You weren’t upset. You just couldn’t deal with anything beyond the war your body was waging against you.
The world could wait.
And that included Chan’s worried little texts, though you didn’t know it yet.
The day moved on, but Chan’s mind didn’t.
Normally, he thrived on busyness. His schedule was packed with practice, meetings, producing, and endless checklists of things to get done. It was the kind of chaos he had gotten used to, even relied on. But when his phone stayed silent despite the three, four, five times he checked it, everything else seemed harder to focus on. His pencil stilled over the notepad where he was scribbling chord ideas. His ears tuned out halfway through one of the members joking with him.
He kept thinking about you.
You never ignored him. That was the thing. Even on your busiest days, you’d slip in a quick reply, something lighthearted just to let him know you saw him. A little emoji, a “later” text, even a single “♡.” Something. Anything.
But now? Nothing. Not one reply since morning.
By the time he called you and it rang all the way through to voicemail, that tight knot in his chest was pulling harder.
“She’s upset with me,” he muttered under his breath, dragging a hand through his hair.
“Hyung, what?” Jisung asked, glancing up from across the room.
“Nothing,” Chan waved it off, forcing a smile. He wasn’t about to dump his spiraling thoughts onto the others. This was his problem to figure out.
Still, he couldn’t stop thinking. Did he forget something? Yesterday… he tried to replay everything in his mind. He’d been tired, sure, but had he snapped at you? Had he been distracted and missed something important you told him?
He sighed and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. The problem was, his brain wasn’t good at letting go once it latched onto a worry. It gnawed at him, over and over, convincing him of the worst possible explanation until he almost believed it.
By the time late afternoon rolled around, he couldn’t take it anymore. His phone screen mocked him, still blank of any message from you. He didn’t even think twice before shoving his notebook into his bag and telling the members he’d head home early.
He wasn’t going home, though.
The drive over to your place was both quick and painfully long. Quick, because Chan’s hands gripped the wheel a little tighter, pushing the speed just enough to shave off time. Long, because the silence in the car gave his thoughts too much room to echo.
What if you didn’t want to see him? What if showing up uninvited only made things worse?
Still, he couldn’t turn back. He needed to know. Needed to see you, to understand what had happened, to make sure you were okay.
By the time he parked outside your place, the nervous energy in his chest had built up so much he could barely breathe evenly. He sat there for a moment, fingers drumming on the steering wheel, before finally exhaling hard and muttering to himself.
“Alright, just… just talk to her. Find out what’s wrong. You can fix this.”
He grabbed his bag and headed up, his footsteps slower than usual. He had his own key, you’d given it to him months ago but right now, the idea of unlocking your door without permission made his chest twist.
He rang the bell once. Waited. Rang again.
No answer.
Biting his lip, Chan reached for the key anyway. “Don’t freak out,” he whispered to himself as he carefully unlocked the door. “It’s fine. Just ask her. It’s fine.”
The apartment was quiet when he slipped inside. Not the kind of quiet that felt empty, but the kind that was lived-in, peaceful, interrupted only by the faint hum of the fridge in the kitchen. He set his bag down by the door, hesitating for a long moment before making his way further in.
“Y/N?” he called softly.
No response.
His heart beat faster, every step toward your bedroom door heavier. He knocked gently, then pushed it open just enough to peek inside.
And there you were.
Curled up in bed, blanket cocooned around you, face half-buried in the pillow. Your hair was a little messy, your expression tired even in sleep or what looked like sleep. You didn’t move at the sound of the door, didn’t flinch when he stepped inside.
Chan’s chest tightened. He wasn’t sure if it hurt more to think you were ignoring him on purpose, or if something else was wrong entirely.
He hovered at the side of the bed for a moment, crouching slightly as he whispered, “Hey…”
Your eyelids fluttered, but you didn’t speak.
“Are you…” he hesitated, swallowing hard before finishing, “Are you upset with me?”
And that was when you blinked at him, slow and a little dazed, before pouting softly.
“No…” you murmured, your voice hoarse. “Not upset. Just… got my period. Hurts too much.”
For Chan, the relief was instant and overwhelming. His shoulders sagged as a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding rushed out of him.
“Oh my god,” he whispered, rubbing a hand over his face. “I thought—baby, I thought you were mad at me. I’ve been losing my mind all day.”
He let out a small, shaky laugh, rubbing at his face again before dragging his fingers through his hair.
“Baby…” he sighed, the corners of his mouth tugging up into the gentlest smile. “You scared me half to death. I thought I did something wrong. I thought you were mad at me.”
Your lips curled into the faintest pout, and you shook your head against the pillow. “No. Just… hurting. A lot.”
Chan’s gaze softened even further. He reached out instinctively, brushing a few strands of hair back from your forehead, his fingers warm and careful. “You should’ve told me,” he murmured, his voice so tender it made your chest ache for a whole different reason.
“I didn’t even look at my phone today,” you admitted, wincing as another cramp twisted through you. “Couldn’t deal with anything.”
That made him sigh again, though not in frustration, in sympathy. “My poor baby,” he whispered, his thumb brushing against your temple. “I’m sorry you’re hurting.”
For a moment, he just stood there beside the bed, his hand lingering on your hair. But then, without hesitation, he toed off his slippers and carefully slipped under the blanket beside you. The mattress dipped with his weight, and warmth spread instantly across your body as his arm wrapped gently around your waist.
He pulled you close, careful but firm enough to make you feel anchored. His lips pressed a fleeting kiss against your temple. “Better?” he asked quietly.
You melted against him, your forehead pressing into his chest. “Mhm,” you hummed, your voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt.
Chan smiled against your hair, the tension that had followed him all day finally easing. “Tell me what I can do for you,” he said, pulling back just enough to look down at your face. “Do you need more products? Something to eat? I can heat up your pad for you… or I can grab you water, or tea. Just say the word.”
You blinked up at him, your lashes heavy with exhaustion, and gave a weak little nod at each suggestion. Yes. Yes. Yes.
That made him chuckle, low and warm, before he pecked your temple again. “Alright, so basically, all of it,” he teased.
You whined softly when he shifted like he was about to get up, your hand immediately fisting into his shirt. “Don’t go yet,” you mumbled, your lips brushing the fabric.
His heart squeezed at that. He froze, then settled right back down against the pillows, tightening his hold around you. “Okay,” he whispered. “Not going anywhere.”
The relief in your body was almost visible. You tucked yourself even closer into his chest, curling into him as if he were your own personal safe space, which, in a way, he was. His chin rested lightly on top of your head, his arm rubbing soothing circles against your side, never pressing too hard against your cramping stomach.
For a while, silence stretched between you, but it wasn’t heavy. It was comfortable, filled with the sound of his breathing and the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear. That rhythm, steady and grounding, made your own body relax little by little.
And then Chan started talking.
He told you about his day, how endless the meeting felt, how he kept thinking about you the whole time and wondering what you were up to. He slipped in jokes, silly imitations of the others, exaggerations that were meant to make you laugh.
And you did.
Not a loud laugh, not the kind that shook your whole body. But a soft, breathy giggle that made his chest vibrate with happiness. Every time the sound left your lips, his eyes lit up like you’d just given him the best gift in the world.
You tilted your head back slightly to look up at him, your cheek still pressed against his chest. “You’re ridiculous,” you murmured, though the fond smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.
“Yeah,” he admitted with a grin, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “But if it makes you smile, I’ll happily be ridiculous.”
Your heart swelled at that, warmth spreading through you that had nothing to do with the blanket. Even through the cramps and the exhaustion, even through the ache that made your whole body curl inward, you felt loved. So deeply loved it almost overwhelmed you.
And the thing about Chan was, he never made you doubt it.
-
It didn’t surprise you when, after a little while, Chan stirred beneath you. His hand was still drawing slow, absent circles against your side, but there was a restless energy in him, that familiar leader instinct that wouldn’t let him sit still when someone he loved was hurting.
You felt the shift in his chest as he leaned down, whispering against your hair. “Baby, I know you don’t want me to move, but… I should get your heating pad. It’ll help.”
You made a small noise of protest, burrowing closer into him like a stubborn child. “Later…”
Chan chuckled, the sound low and fond, and kissed the crown of your head. “You said yes to everything, remember? If I don’t do it now, you’ll just get worse. Two minutes, tops. I promise.”
You pouted, but your fingers finally loosened their grip on his shirt. “Fine,” you sighed, your voice small.
That was all the permission he needed. He slipped carefully out from under you, tucking the blanket snug around your body before he stood. “Stay right here. Don’t move,” he teased, pointing playfully as if you were capable of going anywhere in your current state.
You watched him move around your room with ease, his presence filling the space in a way that made it feel warmer, safer. He ducked into your closet to grab the heating pad, plugging it in with practiced efficiency, like he’d done this countless times before. Which, to be fair, he had.
While it warmed up, he padded into the kitchen. You could hear faint clattering, the fridge opening, a cupboard door closing, the hum of the microwave. Even from bed, you pictured the way his brows furrowed in concentration, how he’d open every drawer just to make sure he had all the options.
When he returned, his arms were full.
The heating pad, wrapped in its soft cover. A glass of water balanced carefully in his hand. A mug of tea that smelled faintly of chamomile. A small plate with crackers and a couple of chocolate squares because Chan always remembered that sometimes you needed sugar more than anything.
You blinked at the sight, your lips twitching upward. “You brought the whole kitchen,” you teased softly.
Chan set everything down on your nightstand, grinning sheepishly. “Better too much than not enough,” he said, settling beside you again. He pressed the warm heating pad gently against your stomach, watching your reaction closely. “Tell me if it’s too hot.”
The sigh that left your lips was almost instantaneous. The ache didn’t disappear, but the warmth dulled it, eased it just enough for your muscles to relax. Your shoulders dropped back into the pillows, your eyes fluttering shut.
“There we go,” Chan whispered, satisfied, before slipping the glass of water into your hand. “Small sips first. You didn’t drink much today, did you?”
You shook your head faintly, sipping obediently while his hand hovered near the glass like he was ready to catch it if you dropped it.
Once you finished, he traded it for the mug of tea. “This’ll help too. Just a little at a time.”
You sipped that as well, the warmth coating your throat, easing you further into comfort. By the time he set it back down and tucked the blanket more securely around you, your body felt lighter, as if his care had lifted some of the weight along with the pain.
“Snack later,” he said gently, brushing his fingers through your hair. “For now, just rest.”
You couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “You’re spoiling me.”
Chan laughed softly, leaning down to press a kiss against your temple. “Always,” he murmured, his voice so certain, so matter-of-fact, that your chest ached with love.
When he finally settled back beside you, his arm slid under your shoulders, tugging you close again. This time, though, the heating pad was tucked securely against your stomach, the tea and snacks waiting nearby, and his presence felt even more grounding.
“You okay now?” he asked quietly, watching your face.
You nodded, nuzzling into him. “Better. Thanks to you.”
The smile that bloomed across his face was soft, almost boyish, like your words alone could light him up. “Good,” he whispered. “That’s all I want.”
With the heating pad warming your stomach and Chan’s body heat pressed against your side, you finally felt yourself breathing easier. The sharpness of the cramps was still there, but dulled enough that you could focus on something besides the ache. Something like the way his thumb rubbed absent circles into your arm, or the way his breathing rumbled softly in his chest beneath your cheek.
Chan noticed the way your body relaxed and smiled down at you. “See? I told you it’d help,” he said gently, his voice the kind of quiet you only used in bedrooms, in moments that felt too soft for the outside world.
You hummed, too comfortable to put the gratitude into words. Instead, you tilted your head just slightly, brushing your nose against his shirt.
Chan’s chest swelled with affection at the tiny gesture. To fill the silence, he started talking again, his tone light and animated. “So, Jisung fell asleep in the middle of the meeting today,” he said, shifting his voice into an exaggerated impression. “Head tilted back, mouth wide open, the whole deal. I thought he was gonna choke on his own snores.”
You snorted, muffling a giggle into his chest.
“And Hyunjin kept trying to poke him awake without anyone noticing,” Chan continued, “but he missed every time because he was laughing too hard. It was like watching two clowns on stage. I almost lost it in front of the managers.”
Your lips curved into a sleepy smile. “I wish I’d seen it.”
Chan chuckled, brushing his lips against your forehead. “I’ll reenact it for you later if you want. Though it won’t be nearly as funny without Jisung’s actual snore.”
You laughed again, the sound light and breathy, and his chest warmed at the sound. He would’ve told a hundred more stories, exaggerated every detail, made an absolute fool of himself, just to hear it again.
The conversation flowed in gentle waves, sometimes you asked questions, sometimes you only hummed in response, and sometimes you just lay quietly, letting his voice wash over you. He didn’t mind at all. In fact, Chan liked that you didn’t feel the need to fill every silence. He liked that he could talk and you’d simply listen, eyes drooping, your body softening against him like you trusted him to hold you together when you couldn’t.
At one point, you shifted just slightly, peeking up at him through heavy lashes. His eyes met yours instantly, warm and intent, like he’d been waiting for you to look at him.
“What?” you whispered, your voice small but curious.
Chan smiled, the corners of his lips curving in that way that always made your chest flutter. “Nothing. Just… you look cute.”
You rolled your eyes, heat creeping into your cheeks. “I probably look like a mess.”
“Not to me,” he said softly, brushing his thumb over your cheekbone. “Never to me.”
The words sank into you, making your heart squeeze. You tucked yourself closer into his chest, hiding your face as if that could conceal how much his love affected you.
He only laughed quietly, kissing the top of your head. “You’re special to me, you know that?”
Your throat felt tight, but you nodded against him. “I know. You make sure I know.”
“Good,” Chan murmured, satisfied. His hand returned to stroking gently up and down your arm, soothing in its repetition.
Minutes stretched into something softer than time, a space where you weren’t quite awake but not quite asleep either. You drifted in and out, lulled by the steady rhythm of his voice as he told you more little stories: the way Seungmin complained about the studio chairs, how Felix tried to bribe everyone with cookies, how Changbin nearly walked into a glass door because he was too busy texting.
Sometimes you laughed, sometimes you only sighed, but always you stayed tucked safely under his arm, wrapped in his warmth. And every time you stirred, every time your face tightened in discomfort from another cramp, Chan was right there, rubbing your arm, murmuring soft reassurances, pressing the lightest kisses into your hair until you relaxed again.
It wasn’t grand or dramatic. It wasn’t even about fixing the pain.
It was about him being there.
And that, more than anything, made you feel cherished.
//
masterlist.
a/n. Don’t mind me just saw a cute edit of chan & couldn’t help myself
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I want a bang chan fic where he always comes and visits reader as soon as he is back in korea. and when he is in korea, they see each other often, like she takes him lunch, he buys her stuff, and they hang out a lot, but when he's on tour or out of the country he doesn't really call and will send like one text.
then, one time when he's at her apartment (literally right after landing in korea), he asks what she did that day and she's like oh I went on a blind date and he's like ????? why would you do that when you're my gf?? and then reader is ???? back and is like wdym I'm your gf? angst and laughter and comfort all the things
summary: it’s felix’s birthday but he's on tour, and all he asks for is you. what he doesn’t know is that you’re already on your way to surprise him
a/n: i wanted to write the fluffiest birthday surprise ever, so here’s felix with cake, candles, and way too many feelings
the days before felix’s birthday are the hardest.
he calls you every night, usually after shows, when his voice is tired but warm. you’re curled up in bed, phone pressed to your ear, heart aching at the sound of him trying not to sound disappointed.
“they’re planning something for me", he says one night, laughter soft in his throat, "but it’s just… the boys, staff, you know. nothing big"
“that sounds nice", you say, careful to keep your tone steady.
“yeah", he murmurs. a pause follows, long enough for you to hear the faint shift of sheets on his hotel bed, "it’d be nicer if you were there"
your heart twists. you grip the blanket tighter, biting back the words that almost slip - i will be. instead, you say lightly, “we’ll celebrate when you’re back in seoul"
he hums, trying to sound convinced, "yeah. when i’m back"
you close your eyes, guilt heavy in your chest. it’s worth it, you remind yourself. it’ll all be worth it when he sees you.
everyone knows except him. chan winks at you through a video call when felix is distracted. hyunjin sends you a voice note teasing, “you better bring snacks when you come, he’s gonna cry if you don’t", staff exchange secret smiles when you confirm the details.
you almost slip a dozen times. when he complains about missing home-cooked food. when he says he hasn’t hugged you in weeks. when he admits he’s nervous about his birthday because it feels strange without you close by. every time, you have to swallow the truth back down, change the subject, smile into the phone so he won’t hear how much you want to tell him.
the night before your flight, you pack carefully. gifts, letters, a sweater that smells like home. you triple-check your passport, your ticket, your phone charger. you barely sleep, excitement and nerves tangling in your stomach.
the flight is long. hours of shifting in your seat, staring out the window, imagining the look on his face when he sees you. you rehearse the plan in your head - how you’ll step out from behind the curtain, how he’ll turn, how his arms will wrap around you. each time, your chest fills with so much warmth you almost tear up right there on the plane.
when you finally land, your phone buzzes. a message from staff: we’re waiting outside arrivals. don’t text felix. he thinks we’re just picking up some equipment.
you grin, slipping your phone back into your pocket. your steps quicken through the terminal, heart pounding with every sign, every echo of footsteps.
outside, one of the managers greets you with a smile, waving you over. beside him stands a bodyguard you’ve seen before, one of the ones always shadowing the boys.
“long flight?", the manager asks kindly.
“so long", you laugh, adjusting your bag, "but i’m okay. i just… i can’t believe this is happening"
“he has no idea", the manager assures you, eyes crinkling, "he’s going to lose it"
the bodyguard leads the way, weaving through traffic until you’re tucked into a car. the city outside is unfamiliar, but you barely notice - your focus is on the thought of him, somewhere out there, rehearsing, laughing, probably thinking you’re still asleep in seoul.
your phone buzzes again. a message from felix: “you awake?”
you bite your lip, thumbs hovering. you type back quickly: “just woke up. how’s your birthday going?”
his reply comes fast: “tiring but good. tonight’s gonna be crazy. wish you could be here”
you swallow hard, fingers tightening around the phone.
“me too”, you type.
and then you set it aside before the ache makes you give yourself away.
the drive ends at the stadium. massive, overwhelming, buzzing with life. trucks are parked in neat lines, crew members rushing in and out, voices carrying instructions. the energy hums in the air, electric, alive.
the bodyguard leads you through back entrances, hallways that twist and turn until you reach a quieter corridor.
“stay here for now", the manager says softly, "they’re finishing up soundcheck. we’ll start once everyone’s gathered"
you nod, fingers fidgeting with the strap of your bag. your heart feels like it’s in your throat, beating so hard you’re sure they can hear it.
from down the hall, faint music echoes - the boys’ voices blending with bass and rhythm. you can picture him there, moving through choreography with that mix of focus and joy that always makes you proud.
soon, you tell yourself. soon you’ll see him.
you lean against the wall, trying to steady your breath, your hands trembling with anticipation.
you wait behind the curtain, hidden in the corner of the dressing room. your heart hammers so loud you’re sure someone will hear it. the bodyguard gave you a reassuring smile before slipping out to fetch the boys.
the cake is already set on the table, glowing candles flickering softly. staff shuffle around, whispering, smiling, their eyes flicking to you every few seconds like they’re all in on the biggest secret of the year.
footsteps echo down the hallway. laughter spills in, voices overlapping. you freeze, every muscle tense.
the door swings open.
felix walks in, surrounded by the others. his hair is damp from soundcheck, his shirt clinging to his skin, but he’s glowing, the kind of glow that comes from adrenaline and stage lights. he blinks when he sees the cake, surprise flashing across his face.
“happy birthday!”, everyone cheers at once.
his smile spreads instantly, wide and bright, eyes crinkling at the corners, "oh my god", he laughs, stepping closer, hands flying up to cover his face for a second before he drops them, bashful and beaming.
chan nudges him forward, "come on, lix. make a wish"
felix leans over the cake. the room quiets, voices fading into expectant silence. he stares at the candles, their flames reflecting in his eyes.
“wish for something good", seungmin teases.
felix laughs again, softer this time, almost shy. he hesitates, lips parting, then says quietly, “i wish she were here"
your breath catches.
“who?", hyunjin asks, feigning innocence, though his grin gives him away.
felix shakes his head, embarrassed, blowing out the candles in one quick puff. cheers erupt, the boys clapping, staff cheering, but he just smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.
“turn around", changbin says suddenly, a mischievous lilt in his voice.
felix frowns, confused, "what?"
“just turn around", chan insists, grinning.
felix glances over his shoulder-
and there you are.
you step out from behind the curtain, hands trembling, smile breaking across your face, "surprise", you say, voice shaking with nerves and joy.
for a heartbeat, everything stops. felix’s eyes widen, mouth falling open, disbelief etched across every line of his face.
“no way", he whispers.
then he moves.
he closes the distance in seconds, arms wrapping around you so tightly you almost stumble. your bag slides off your shoulder, forgotten, as you bury yourself in him, laughter spilling from your lips.
“you’re here", he breathes against your hair, voice trembling, "you’re actually here"
“i told you we’d celebrate", you murmur, squeezing him tighter.
he pulls back just enough to look at you, his hands framing your face, eyes glassy, smile impossibly wide, "this is the best birthday ever. i can’t believe it. i can’t-”, he breaks off, hugging you again, clinging like he’ll never let go.
around you, the room erupts. the boys cheer, whistling and clapping, staff laughing and snapping photos.
“dream come true", hyunjin teases.
“don’t cry, lixie", jeongin calls.
felix hides his face in your shoulder, laughing and shaking his head, but you feel the dampness of his eyes against your skin.
“you’re really here", he says again, softer now, just for you, "i missed you so much"
your own eyes sting, but you laugh, brushing his hair back from his forehead, "i missed you too”
the celebration whirls around you - cake slices handed out, pictures taken, voices loud and happy. but felix never strays far. his hand finds yours whenever it slips away, his arm circles your waist when someone pulls you into a photo, his eyes flick back to you even when he’s laughing with the others.
he leans close when no one’s paying attention, his words barely above a whisper, "i can’t believe you did this. you flew all the way here?”
you nod, grinning, "of course. it’s your birthday"
he shakes his head, eyes wide with wonder, "you’re crazy", then, softer, “but i love you for it"
the words slip out so naturally you almost miss them. your heart stutters, cheeks heating, but before you can respond, chan calls him over for another picture.
he groans but goes, dragging you with him by the hand.
time ticks by too fast. soon, staff are rushing around again, reminding the boys they need to be on stage in minutes. the atmosphere shifts, excitement sparking through the room.
felix lingers at your side, reluctant.
“i have to go", he says, voice tinged with regret, "but you’ll be here, right? you’ll watch?”
“of course", you say quickly, "i wouldn’t miss it"
he exhales, relief flooding his features. then he pulls you into another hug, tighter, his lips brushing your temple.
“thank you", he whispers, "this is the best gift i could ever get. just… you"
your throat tightens, emotions threatening to spill. you hold him close, nodding against his shoulder, "go", you murmur, "they’re waiting"
he pulls back, but not fully - his hands linger, his gaze soft and overflowing, "after the show", he promises, "i’m yours after the show"
and then he’s gone, swept away with the others, the roar of the crowd already rumbling through the walls.
you stand there, heart full, watching him disappear through the doors, knowing he’ll carry your surprise with him onto that stage.
the lights dim, and the roar of the crowd crashes through the stadium like a wave. you slip into a seat near the side of the stage with staff, your pulse racing, hands pressed together tight in your lap.
the opening notes thunder out, spotlights flash, and then there he is.
felix bursts onto stage with the rest of the boys, energy spilling from every step, every move. his hair catches the light, his smile electric. and even though there are thousands of people screaming his name, you swear his eyes find you instantly.
your breath hitches.
he doesn’t break character - he dances, sings, all flawless, all powerful. but there are moments, little ones only you would notice: the flick of his gaze to the side, the curve of his lips a little softer than the choreography demands, the way his chest expands when he spots you clapping, cheering, living this moment for him.
you think about the boy you hugged only minutes ago, teary-eyed over a cake and a wish. now he’s here, all confidence and charisma, larger than life. and yet, underneath it all, he’s still felix. still yours.
your heart aches with love.
the show rolls on, set after set, song after song. you shout with the crowd, your throat raw but your grin unstoppable. every time the lights sweep across your side of the stage, felix’s eyes dart there. once, he even flashes a tiny heart with his fingers so quickly you almost think you imagined it - until he winks, and you know you didn’t.
when the final song fades and the boys line up for their bows, felix is glowing. sweat glistens on his skin, his smile wide and uncontainable. he bows with the others, waves, throws kisses into the crowd. and then, as the cheers swell around him, he mouths something only to you.
thank you.
backstage is chaos after the encore. staff rush around, crew dismantling equipment, members being ushered towards quick changes. the air is hot, buzzing, alive with adrenaline.
you wait by the side, half hidden, trying not to get in the way. your hands fidget, your chest still thrumming from the show.
then he appears.
felix pushes through the crowd, ignoring the towel someone tries to drape around his shoulders, eyes locked on you. he doesn’t slow down until he’s right there, his arms wrapping around you, damp with sweat but warm, solid, real.
“you saw me", he says breathlessly, half-laughing, half-gasping.
“of course i did", you reply, muffled against his chest.
he leans back just enough to see you, eyes shining, hair sticking to his forehead, "i couldn’t stop looking for you. every song, i thought, “is she watching? is she smiling?””
you laugh, brushing his damp bangs out of his face, "i was. every second"
“gross", seungmin teases as he walks past, rolling his eyes, "some of us are trying not to throw up here"
the others laugh, jeongin clapping felix on the back as he passes, "happy birthday, felix. best present ever, huh?”
felix doesn’t even look away from you, "the best", he says, firm and certain, voice thick with emotion.
you feel your face heat, your stomach flipping, but you don’t care. not when his hand tightens around yours, not when his smile looks like it might split his face in two.
a manager appears, calling for the boys to change. felix groans softly, reluctant to let go, forehead dropping against yours for a brief, stolen moment.
“don’t move", he whispers, "wait for me, please"
“i’ll be right here", you promise.
he squeezes your hand once more before he finally pulls away, dragged back into the current of staff and members. but he keeps looking back, eyes on you until he disappears around the corner.
you stand there, heart bursting, cheeks aching from smiling, knowing that in just a little while he’ll come back to you - and this time, the night will be yours.
the hotel is quiet when you arrive, a sharp contrast to the stadium’s chaos. felix’s hand never leaves yours from the moment he spots you backstage until the door to his room clicks shut behind you.
the second it does, he exhales like he’s been holding his breath all night.
“finally", he murmurs, dropping his bag carelessly to the floor. he turns to you, eyes soft but burning with something you recognise instantly - longing, relief, love, all tangled together.
before you can say anything, he steps forward and hugs you. not the rushed, chaotic kind from earlier, but slow and grounding. his arms curve around your waist, pulling you close until your cheek rests against his chest, his heart thumping beneath your ear.
“i missed you so much", he says, voice muffled in your hair.
“i missed you too", you whisper back, eyes fluttering shut.
he leans back just enough to see your face. his own is flushed, tired but glowing, "you know what i wished for when they gave me the cake?”
you smile faintly, "i heard"
his lips twitch into a sheepish grin, "and then you were there. like… like magic", he shakes his head, disbelief still painted across his features, "you’re my wish come true"
your chest tightens at the words, emotions rising like a tide, "felix…”
he doesn’t let you answer - instead, his lips find yours.
the kiss starts gentle, tentative, as if he’s afraid you might vanish if he pushes too much. but when you sigh into it, his arms tighten around you, the kiss deepening. his mouth moves with yours in soft, tender pulls, each one saying everything he’s been holding back.
your hands find his hair, still slightly damp from the stage, and he groans softly against your lips when your fingers thread through it.
he pulls back for just a breath, his forehead pressing to yours, "i don’t ever want to let go", he whispers, voice shaking.
“then don’t", you murmur, tugging him back down.
this time, the kiss grows hungrier. not rushed, not desperate - just full, overflowing, like he’s pouring all the weeks of missing you into every brush of his lips. his hands wander, not rough but reverent - sliding along your waist, up your back, over your shoulders, memorising the shape of you like he’s afraid he’ll forget.
you gasp softly when his thumb strokes just beneath the hem of your shirt, and he stills immediately, pulling back to search your face.
“too much?”, he asks quickly, concern flashing in his eyes.
you shake your head, breathless, "no. i want this"
relief floods his expression, and his smile returns, small but certain, "okay"
he kisses you again, slower now, savoring. his hands resume their soft exploration - the curve of your spine, the slope of your shoulder, the warmth of your hip beneath fabric. every touch is careful, deliberate, as if to remind you how much he’s missed this closeness.
your own hands roam too - tracing the line of his jaw, brushing over the strong column of his neck, sliding down his chest where his heart races under your palm. he shivers, the sound he makes caught somewhere between a sigh and a laugh.
you both end up tumbling onto the bed, half by accident, half by instinct. felix hovers over you, bracing himself on his elbows so he doesn’t crush you, his hair falling into his eyes.
you laugh softly, reaching up to brush it back, "you’re so beautiful", you whisper without thinking.
his breath catches, his cheeks reddening even as he tries to hide his face in your neck, "don’t say that", he mumbles, embarrassed.
“but it’s true", you insist, pulling him back up to look at you, "you are"
he groans dramatically, but his lips are already curving into a smile, "you’re gonna kill me with how much i love you"
your heart flips, warmth spilling through every inch of you, "good. then we’re even"
his lips crash into yours again, laughter blending with the kiss. his tongue brushes yours, tentative at first, then bolder when you respond, the soft slide of it making your toes curl. you both sigh into it, breaths mingling, the world narrowing down to just this bed, this moment, this boy you love.
the kisses slow eventually, turning softer, lazier, until he finally collapses beside you, pulling you into his arms. your head rests on his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear.
he presses a kiss to your hair, "best birthday ever", he says softly, "because of you"
you smile against him, your hand finding his, "i’m glad i came"
“me too", he whispers, voice steady with affection. his hand finds yours again, fingers lacing easily like they’ve done a thousand times before, “today was the best”
you glance up at him, teasing, “only because of me?”
he chuckles, leaning down to kiss your forehead, "mostly because of you. the rest doesn’t even come close"
your chest warms at his words, at the simple certainty in them. you smile, kissing him softly, slow and lingering.
“i love you", you whisper against his lips.
his breath hitches, but his reply comes quick, honest, "i love you more. always"
he exhales like the weight of missing you has finally lifted, pulling you closer until you’re tucked completely into his chest.
you fall asleep like that, tangled together, hearts full, the night wrapping around you both like the softest promise.
𓇻 ॱ˖ SEOUL VLOG 🎐: day with bsf,exploring new cafés, shopping, night market | 530k views riki nishimura x reader
❀ : youtube!au + smau, youtuber!reader, nonidol!riki, fluff, he’s a rich guy, he’s so quiet bf here, they’re “best friends”
“oh my gosh, I’m in such a rush,” you huffed at the camera, glancing at your reflection in the pink my melody handheld mirror. “he’s literally going to kill me.”
“frick, I hate this mascara… whatever.” you muttered, rushing to the standing mirror as you flipped your camera so it could catch your full outfit.
“ootd, top is from brandy, the jeans are thrifted, and my flats are honestly the best part of this outfit.” you zoomed in on the white vintage chanel flats. “riki found these while he was thrifting and immediately called me to see if I wanted them.”
your phone buzzed in your hand, and you angled it toward the camera. “yeah, he’s already mad. okay, I gotta go.” grabbing your bag, covered in dangling keychains, you slung it over your shoulder and hurried for the door.
“guyyyys,” you grinned at the camera mounted on the dashboard, “I’m in riki’s car right now, but look at what he got me.” you held up the miffy plush, still in its packaging, to show it off. “when I got in, it was literally the first thing I saw, and I was like, ‘wait, who’s this?’ and he just goes, ‘yours, obviously.’”
“isn’t he so sweet?” you picked up the camera and turned it toward riki as he drove. he only gave the lens a quick side eye before focusing back on the road, making you burst out laughing. “you’re so rude to my viewers.”
“okay, so we’re on our way to this café that’s super aquarium themed. It’s so cutesy, and I’ve been wanting to check it out for a while. I actually sent it to riki a while back, and then yesterday out of nowhere he was like, ‘let’s go to that aquarium café.’ so… here we are.”
the car slowly stopped at a red light, and riki’s hand reached over to fix the strap of your shirt that had slipped down. the small gesture pulled a smile from you before you turned your gaze out the window. “okay, we’ll see you guys when we get there.”
you wandered through the café, eyes skimming over the pastry display as the camera angle gave away who was holding it. turning back to glance at him, you whispered, “lower it a little.” he was so tall it looked like he was filming you in 0.5.
the camera lowered, though it didn’t help much. “okay, guys, we’re finally here at the café, it’s so cute. we’re picking out pastries right now, then we’ll order our drinks and head to the cashier.”
the video cut to a close up of riki’s forehead, your laughter echoing in the background, before you zoomed out and turned the camera back to yourself.
“okay, so I got their jellyfish matcha,” you said, showing off the drink topped with blue cold foam. “and riki just went with an iced coffee.”
“and the all their pastries are aquarium themed so we got the three most popular ones, they’re so cute.” you took a bite of one of the pastries, “good?” it was the first time riki has spoken so far, you hummed in response. riki’s hand made its way in front of the camera as he brought his fork to your mouth, “here, try this one.”
a bit of whipped cream ended up at the corner of your mouth, and riki casually wiped it away with his thumb. you immediately shot a quick side eye at the camera.
you set the camera back on the dashboard, adjusting the angle before leaning back in your seat. “hey guys, we’re back in the car,” you said with a grin. “now we’re heading to this outdoor mall because, honestly, I’m in desperate need of a shopping spree. and riki likes to act like he isn’t a total shopping diva, but I know he needs this as much as I do.”
from the driver’s seat, a faint “shut up” slipped out in the background, making you burst out laughing.
first stop: chrome hearts
“before you guys start talking in the comments,” you said, pointing straight at the camera, “I’m not the one with the money to just casually go to chrome hearts on a regular day. It’s this guy.” you turned the camera toward riki, who was leaning over the glass case, studying the rings inside.
the video cut to you standing in front of a mirror while riki stood behind you, holding a pink chrome Hearts sweater against your body like he was trying to picture it on you. after a moment, he gave a small nod of approval.
“you don’t have to buy that,” you told him, flipping the camera from the mirror to your face as you looked up at him. He just flicked your forehead like you’d said the most disrespectful thing in the world.
“ouch,” you winced, rubbing the spot before turning the camera back to riki. he only shrugged. “I’m getting it for you. I don’t care.”
the clip then cut to riki’s hands holding the chrome hearts bag.
second stop: brandy melville
“he’s been dreading this,” you said from behind the camera, filming the front of the store before turning it toward Riki. he opened the door for you but shook his head like he was already over it.
the clip then cut to riki holding the camera as you wandered through the store, arms full of clothes. “do you think I should try these on?” you asked, holding up a few pieces.
“yeah,” his voice came from behind the camera, his quick reply making you laugh softly.
the video cut to you in the changing room, showing off a polka dot babydoll top in the mirror before laughing and turning the camera toward the side. a hand was holding the curtain flat against the wall so it wouldn’t gap. “he hates that there isn’t a clasp to keep the curtain shut,” you said, laughing again.
the video cut to riki at the cashier, pulling out his card while the worker handed you the shopping bag.
third stop: dior
“notice how all of his picks are expensive as hell,” you said from behind the camera, panning over to riki, who couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips.
you zoomed in on the wallet in his hands. “I think the black one suits you more than the blue,” you said, and Riki nodded in agreement. “yeah, the blue looks kind of tacky.”
the video then cut to you holding up a necklace with “dior” in the center and angel wings on each side. “guys , this is so pretty, I’m in love with this.”
riki appeared behind you to get a closer look. “do you want it?”
“yeah , but not right now. riki, do not get it,” you said firmly, pointing a finger at him.
the next clip showed riki at the cashier. “guys … he bought it along with his new wallet,” you sighed, turning the camera on yourself.
fourth stop: random shoe store
“guys, I’m on the hunt for those puma ballet flats,” you said as the camera panned across the puma section. “where the hell are they?”
the video cut to riki holding a shoebox in his hands. “guys, while I was searching, riki literally just went up to the front and asked if they had any in the back and they did!”
“yeah , ’cause I’m the best,” riki said with a cocky tone, making you laugh. “let’s not get a big head,” you shot back.
you mounted the camera back on the dashboard. “okay guys, it’s finally getting dark, and the night market we’ve been wanting to check out just opened so that’s where we’re headed next.”
the video cut to you linking arms with riki as the colorful lights of the night market surrounded you both. You gasped at something in front of you, quickly turning the camera toward it. “guys, look at these matching cat keychains! we need to get them!”
the next clip showed the keychains now hooked onto your jeans. “It’s so cute!” you exclaimed.
the video then cut to a table filled with different kinds of hair clips. “I like this hello kitty one,” you said, before cutting to riki clipping it into your hair for you.
next, you and riki were browsing a display of tanghulu. “let’s get the strawberry one,” he said, and you nodded in agreement. the video cut to riki taking the first bite, then turning the tanghulu toward you so you could have one too.
you nodded at riki in appreciation after he wiped the excess sugar from your lip.
thanks for watching!
user#1 best friend??? no girl that’s your boyfriend
user#2 him buying her everything 😭😭 god really does have favourites
user#3 they’re so cute omg
user#4 THE CHANGING ROOM PART?? that’s not a bsf that’s a bf
user#5 who does she think she’s fooling?? that’s your man
lana's note! ᰍᩚ literally nobody requested this but im ovulating and if i have to suffer, you all do too
♡ masterlist
channie ♡
the definition of a pussy worshipper. he sees it as his job.. no, his purpose to make you come at least twice before he even thinks of unzipping his pants.
loves going slow at first, teasing you with featherlight kisses around your thighs, nuzzling against you while you beg. he lives for the way your body squirms and the way your breath hitches.
uses his tongue like he’s writing a love letter. he makes out with your pussy with deep, steady licks, swirling around your clit, then flattening his tongue and dragging it up your whole slit just to hear you gasp.
eye contact. constant. this man wants to see you fall apart. he’ll lock eyes with you as his tongue slides in and out of your pussy and ask, “you like that, baby?” with his voice low and wrecked.
gets off on how messy it is. will spit on your pussy, lick it back up, and moan into you just because he knows the vibrations will make you twitch.
doesn’t stop until your legs are shaking and your voice is hoarse from moaning his name.
lino ♡
cocky little shit when he’s between your thighs. knows exactly what he’s doing and loves to show off.
eats you out like it’s a challenge, just to see how quickly he can make you come, and how many times he can push you over the edge before you cry.
sharp tongue, quick flicks, and very focused on your clit. he’ll suck on it lightly while rubbing two fingers inside you at just the right angle.
teases you with words between licks: “gonna come on my tongue again? hm?”
has a thing for holding your thighs open and keeping you in place. you’re not allowed to squirm away. if you try, he’ll growl and dig his fingers into your hips, holding you down while he buries his tongue deeper.
will keep going even if you’re overstimulated. he thinks your whines and shudders are adorable.
changbin ♡
a total sweetheart and a certified menace at the same time. starts off so soft and sweet but turns into a pussy-devouring animal the moment he gets a taste.
moans so much while he eats you out. you’d think he’s the one getting pleasure from it. (he is.)
absolutely obsessed with the way you taste. will lick every drop of your arousal off his lips and fingers, sometimes even kiss you after just so you can taste yourself too.
strong hands gripping your thighs, keeping you wide open as he eats you with hunger and passion. might even throw your legs over his shoulders and bury his face in like he’s starved.
alternates between broad tongue strokes and nasty little suckles on your clit that make your toes curl.
when you come, he pulls back just a little to watch your face, smirking while his fingers stay deep inside you, curling to keep the orgasm going.
hyunjin ♡
oh, this man is artistic about it. he makes giving oral look beautiful.
will trail kisses up your thighs like you’re a canvas he’s painting, soft and reverent, but once he starts licking? it’s fucking poetry.
soft lips, wet tongue, and an unholy amount of passion. he licks and sucks your clit like it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted.
loves sucking on your clit for long stretches while curling his fingers inside you, whispering how beautiful you look when you moan.
doesn’t rush. he takes his time, eyes hooded, lips shiny, tongue moving in slow, sinful circles. you’re squirming and begging and he’s still licking like he’s savoring dessert.
cums in his pants sometimes from how turned on he gets just from hearing you moan and feeling your thighs tremble around his head.
hannie ♡
absolutely feral. he eats you out like it’s his last meal and he’s been starving.
makes it sloppy as hell. spit, moans, tongue everywhere. he doesn’t care how messy it gets—in fact, he loves it that way.
grinds against the mattress while going down on you. he gets so desperate from eating you out that he has to do something with his own cock.
alternates between fast flicks of his tongue and sucking your clit hard enough to make your hips jerk.
“fuck—fuck, baby, you taste so good—god, i could eat you for hours.” and he will.
whines into your pussy when you tug his hair or cry out his name. the more noise you make, the harder he goes.
felix ♡
soft dom. so gentle with you, but make no mistake. he’s going to wreck you slowly.
his deep voice moaning into your pussy?? earth-shattering. he’ll hum softly while sucking on your clit, making your whole body vibrate.
loves eating you out while holding your hand. thumb rubbing gentle circles on your palm while he makes you fall apart.
so good with his tongue it’s unfair.. broad licks, teasing swirls, tongue-fucking you until you’re gasping.
kisses your thighs between orgasms, whispers things like, “you’re doing so well for me, baby. one more? just one more, yeah?”
keeps going long after you think you can’t come again. he’ll coax it out of you with whispered praise and a soft, relentless tongue.
seungmin ♡
secret freak. acts like a gentleman until he’s between your thighs, and then suddenly he’s got zero mercy.
gives you that deadpan stare while flicking your clit with his tongue like a metronome, watching your whole body react.
knows how to edge you like a pro. he’ll get you right to the brink of orgasm, then back off with a smug smirk, saying, “patience. you’ll come when i say so.”
spits on your pussy, rubs it in with his fingers, then starts eating again like nothing happened.
doesn’t care if your thighs are trembling or your voice is breaking. he’ll hold you down and keep going until you’re ruined.
loves when you cry a little from overstimulation. caresses your hip softly while still licking your clit. “almost there, pretty girl.”
jeongin ♡
eager to please. he’s still discovering how filthy he can be, and turns into a damn menace once he’s confident.
loves watching your reactions. eyes on you the whole time, eyebrows raised every time your hips twitch or you moan louder.
a fast learner. you tell him once how you like it and he masters it like a pro. flicks his tongue at just the right pace, pressures your clit just the way you like.
fingers you while eating you out like it’s second nature, curling them until he hits your g-spot and has you gasping his name.
sometimes gets shy after because he knows he just made you cum hard, but during? he’s growling low and muttering, “feels good, doesn’t it?”
always asks after: “too much? want more? you taste so good, baby…”
Synopsis: The summer vacation reaveals what your one sided crush on your best friends younger brother will truly lead to.
Word Count: 19.5k
Warnings: kinda a sext (like it's not really but like yeah), jealousy, denial is a river in Egypt, so much tension
A/N: I've been contemplating posting this for a few months. Then I remembered, this is my blog. Okay enjoy 😉 Feedback is very much welcome 🫶🏽
Smut tags under the cut
SMUT Tags: soft dom!yechan; switch!reader, heated make outS, nipple play, touching over the clothes, fingering, protected sexual intercourse, multiple orgasms, alluded oral, almost kitchen stuff. Petnames; 'baby'
The sun blazed down as you finally stepped into the beach house, a slight excitement bubbling in your chest as you set your suitcase down. It was summer, and with that came the chance to spend more time with Keeho, but he—Yechan—was the real problem. Your crush on him was practically an open secret, especially to Keeho, who always made sure to tease you about it.
You knew it was a little ridiculous to have such a huge crush on your best friend’s younger brother, but you couldn’t help it. Yechan’s sharp jawline, tousled hair, and that slightly indifferent attitude drove you wild. You might act coy and shy in front of Keeho, but when it was just you and Yechan, you were more... forward.
Keeho was lounging on the couch, scrolling through his phone as you entered, already waiting for the usual teasing. “Glad you could finally join us. It’s gonna be a long week with Yechan here,” he said with a smirk, not even looking up from his phone. “She’s totally obsessed with you, by the way.”
You turned to face him, throwing an exaggerated glare. “Shut up. I’m not obsessed.”
Keeho let out a low chuckle. “Sure, sure. But seriously, Yechan’s gonna be stuck with you all week. Good luck with that, man.”
You couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes as you glanced toward Yechan, who had entered the room quietly, his gaze briefly meeting yours. His expression was unreadable, but there was that flicker again, that subtle awareness of the way you looked at him.
“Hey, finally made it,” Yechan said casually, and you couldn’t help the way your heart skipped at the sound of his voice. He was effortlessly cool, as always, giving nothing away.
You stepped closer, doing your best to seem casual, even though your mind was racing. “Yeah, Keeho wasn’t kidding about the traffic,” you said, your tone a little more teasing than usual. You glanced up at him, not bothering to hide the way you let your gaze linger on his lips before meeting his eyes. “Hope you’re ready to spend the week with me.”
Yechan blinked, a small, almost imperceptible smile curving his lips. He gave you a slight nod, clearly playing it cool but not completely indifferent. “I think I’ll manage,” he replied with a tone that felt more like a challenge than reassurance.
You leaned against the doorway, your eyes trailing over him as you decided to take a risk. “You sure? I’m very good at making things... interesting.”
Yechan’s eyes shifted for just a second, and his lips twitched again—was that a smile? He cleared his throat, a little awkward now, but still trying to keep his cool. “I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”
Keeho, who had been watching the exchange, raised an eyebrow. “You two are gonna be a problem,” he muttered under his breath, but it didn’t seem like he was really worried.
As you turned away, Yechan’s gaze stayed on you for just a fraction longer than normal. You were almost certain you saw something in his eyes—something more than just the usual disinterest.
You weren’t delusional. You knew he noticed you, and whether he admitted it or not, the tension between you both was real. The real question was: how long could you keep it from becoming something more?
The first few days at the beach house passed in a blur of lazy afternoons and playful teasing. Keeho made sure to poke fun at you every chance he got, especially when it came to your unabashed crush on his younger brother. But when it was just you and Yechan, things took on a different energy. The playful exchanges got a little bolder, a little more intimate, and that made the whole summer feel like it was about to tip into something more.
On the fourth day, Keeho had disappeared with a group of friends, leaving you and Yechan alone at the house. As the sun began to dip below the horizon, you both found yourselves out on the deck, the ocean stretching out endlessly before you. The evening air was cool, and the sound of the waves crashing was the perfect background to the charged silence between you and Yechan.
You glanced over at him as he leaned against the railing, arms crossed casually. He had a way of making everything look effortless, like even standing still was somehow cool. You were both quiet for a moment, but you couldn’t help the words that slipped out of your mouth.
“So, how does it feel to know your brother has a crazy, obsessed best friend who can’t stop thinking about you?” you teased, leaning back in your chair and keeping your tone light, even though your heart was racing.
Yechan didn’t flinch or seem surprised. Instead, he turned to you with that same cool expression, but his gaze was soft, more attentive than before. “You really can’t stop talking about it, can you?”
You shrugged nonchalantly, even though you knew the answer was obvious. “What can I say? You’re hard to ignore.” You bit your lip playfully, your eyes meeting his.
He stayed silent for a beat, and you thought you saw a flicker of something in his expression—maybe it was amusement, maybe it was something else—but it quickly vanished as he turned his attention back to the ocean. “Keeho won’t let you live it down,” he said, his voice low, though there was a trace of something that almost sounded like... teasing? Or maybe he was just trying to act like he didn’t care.
“Oh, he’s definitely going to remind me every single day,” you said, laughing softly. “But I’ve already come to terms with the fact that I’ll never hear the end of it.”
Yechan smirked, though his eyes stayed focused on the waves, as if trying to avoid your gaze. “I guess I’ll just keep pretending I don’t know, then.”
You weren’t about to let him off that easily. You pushed yourself up from the chair and walked over to where he stood by the railing, stopping just a few inches away. “You don’t have to pretend,” you said, your voice much quieter now, the air between you two charged with a new kind of intensity. “I can tell you’re aware of it... you’re not as indifferent as you think.”
Yechan’s gaze shifted to you, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of something—maybe surprise, maybe something deeper—before he blinked and turned his head away. “I’m just... trying not to make things weird, okay?”
Your heart skipped in your chest. This was the closest he’d come to acknowledging it out loud. “Things are already weird, Yechan,” you said, stepping a little closer until the space between you was almost non-existent. “But I don’t mind.”
Yechan’s eyes flicked to yours again, and there it was—the hesitation, the brief battle between wanting to acknowledge this thing between you and keeping things simple, not wanting to complicate anything. He cleared his throat and took a half-step back, distancing himself as usual. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he muttered.
You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips. “You’re the one making things weird by pretending you don’t notice.”
Yechan looked at you then, and for a second, the world felt like it slowed down. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes were full of understanding. There was something in the air, something that made your stomach twist.
Just as the moment hung between you, Keeho’s voice echoed from inside the house, interrupting whatever tension had been building. “You two are acting like you’ve never seen the ocean before.”
You pulled back immediately, both of you falling into the comfort of casual banter once more, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed. For better or worse, the tension was there now, and it wasn’t going away.
It was another golden summer day, and Keeho had decided it was perfect for a trip to the beach. You had no complaints; it was impossible to say no to the idea of cool water and warm sand. Plus, it was a chance to flaunt the new bikini you’d bought—a pastel, flattering piece that made you feel like a total knockout.
As you slipped on a light cover-up over your swimsuit, Keeho knocked on your door, already carrying a beach bag. “You ready yet?” he called out. When you opened the door, he looked you over and raised an eyebrow. “Cute, but you’re dressing up like this just in case Yechan magically appears at the beach, aren’t you?”
You rolled your eyes at him, pulling your hair up into a loose ponytail. “Don’t flatter your brother. The world doesn’t revolve around him.”
Keeho snorted as he leaned against the doorframe. “Sure, sure. You don’t think about him all the time. Totally believable.” He smirked, but before you could retort, he added, “By the way, he’s not even here. He’s at Seokjun’s, playing video games like the introvert he is.”
A wicked idea sparked in your mind, and you casually shrugged. “Good. Less competition for my time.” Keeho just laughed and walked off, leaving you alone in the hallway. You glanced toward Yechan’s door, the wheels in your head spinning.
You pushed open Yechan’s door with a quiet creak, glancing around his room. It was neat, a little too neat for someone like him—like it was straight out of a home décor magazine. The navy bedding looked soft and inviting, and you couldn’t resist the urge to lean down and sprawl out on it.
Fishing your phone out of your bag, you adjusted your bikini straps, propped yourself up on one elbow, and snapped a picture. The soft sunlight pouring through his window made the photo pop, accentuating your curves and the cheeky smile on your lips. Perfect.
You captioned it:
Could be yours, but you playing.
With a quick smirk, you hit send and lay back on his bed, already imagining the look on his face.
At Seokjun’s house, Yechan was in the middle of an intense round of Mario Kart. He had just overtaken Sungil and was gunning for the finish line when his phone buzzed on the cushion beside him. He almost ignored it, but a glimpse of your name on the notification made his stomach flip.
He swiped it open, and the image nearly made him drop his phone. His pulse spiked, and he stared at the screen for a few seconds, trying to process what he was looking at.
“Yo, you good?” Sungbin asked, noticing his sudden silence.
Yechan quickly locked the phone and stuffed it into his pocket. “Yeah,” he muttered, his voice strained. “Just... someone being annoying.”
But as his friends focused back on the game, Yechan couldn’t help but replay the image in his mind, your confident grin burned into his memory. He leaned back, his mind now completely elsewhere.
By the time you and Keeho reached the beach, the sun was high in the sky. The two of you set up a spot near the shoreline, stretching out on towels and soaking in the heat. Keeho pulled out a Bluetooth speaker, queuing up some music as you adjusted your sunglasses.
“This is the life,” Keeho sighed, lying back with his hands behind his head.
“It’s missing something,” you teased. “Like maybe an iced coffee? You could go get us one.”
“Pfft, I’m not your butler,” he scoffed, but the glint in his eyes showed he was joking.
A little later, you both spotted Intak and Lara walking toward you, their playful energy impossible to miss. Lara waved enthusiastically, her flowy cover-up billowing in the wind. “Finally! We’ve been looking for you two!”
“Looking for Keeho,” Intak corrected with a grin, tossing a volleyball between his hands.
You rolled your eyes. “And I’m just here for decoration?”
Lara linked her arm through yours. “You’re the star of the show, don’t even play.”
As the four of you spent the afternoon lounging and laughing, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of triumph. Somewhere, Yechan was probably still thinking about the picture you sent, and if you were lucky, it would leave him more flustered than he cared to admit.
The next morning, you woke up to the sound of Keeho’s obnoxious singing echoing through the house. He had clearly decided it was his personal mission to act like a human alarm clock. You groaned and buried your face in your pillow, the events of the previous day flashing through your mind.
You smirked to yourself. That picture you sent Yechan? Genius. You could only imagine the way he must’ve reacted, his cool, indifferent façade cracking just a little. But you hadn’t heard a single word from him since.
Dragging yourself out of bed, you threw on a comfy outfit and headed downstairs. Keeho was in the kitchen, flipping pancakes with an air of unnecessary confidence. “Morning, star shine,” he greeted with a grin. “Sleep well after flirting with the entire beach yesterday?”
You rolled your eyes, grabbing a glass of orange juice. “Jealous because I was the centre of attention and not you?”
“Please,” Keeho snorted, piling pancakes onto a plate. “I’m the life of the party no matter where I go. But hey, maybe next time Yechan will actually show up. If you’re lucky.”
You froze for a split second, but Keeho didn’t notice, too busy adding an obscene amount of syrup to his stack. You played it cool, shrugging as you leaned against the counter. “Why would I care if he shows up or not?”
Keeho didn’t even look up. “Uh-huh. Sure. You’re totally indifferent.”
Meanwhile, Yechan was sitting on the edge of Seokjun’s bed, his phone clutched in his hand. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that picture since you sent it. The confident smirk, the way you looked so effortless—it was driving him crazy.
His friends had called him out for zoning out during the game yesterday, but he couldn’t exactly tell them why. And now, he was stuck debating what to do next. He’d always thought you were gorgeous—anyone with eyes could see that—but your boldness had completely thrown him off balance.
Finally, he unlocked his phone and opened your message. His thumbs hovered over the screen before he finally typed back:
You really know how to get my attention, don’t you?
He stared at the text for a moment, debating whether to send it. Screw it. He hit send and tossed the phone onto the bed like it was a hot coal.
You were lounging on the deck with Keeho a little later, scrolling through your phone when the notification popped up. Seeing Yechan’s name made your heart skip a beat, and you bit your lip as you read his message.
You really know how to get my attention, don’t you?
Your lips curved into a sly smile, and you typed back without hesitation:
Took you long enough to notice.
Yechan’s reply came almost immediately this time.
What makes you think I didn’t notice before?
You raised an eyebrow at the screen, your mind racing. Was he actually flirting back? Keeho glanced over at you, curious. “Who’s got you smiling like that?”
“No one,” you lied, locking your phone and slipping it into your bag. Keeho gave you a suspicious look but didn’t push it.
Later that afternoon, Yechan finally returned to the house, his usual calm demeanour firmly in place. Keeho greeted him with his typical brotherly teasing, but Yechan barely acknowledged him, his eyes flickering to you instead.
You caught his gaze, and for a split second, the rest of the room seemed to fade away. His expression was unreadable, but there was a new energy in the air—charged, expectant.
Keeho, oblivious as always, clapped Yechan on the back. “Good, you’re back. I’m gonna need you to join me in kicking her butt at volleyball tomorrow.”
Yechan smirked slightly, his gaze never leaving yours. “We’ll see.”
You tilted your head, a playful challenge glinting in your eyes. “Don’t count on it. I’m full of surprises.”
Yechan’s smirk deepened, and for once, he didn’t try to hide it.
The next day, the beach buzzed with life. The sun blazed high in the sky, and the sound of waves crashing set the perfect backdrop for a lazy, summer afternoon. Keeho had roped you and Yechan into playing volleyball with Intak and Lara, claiming it was a “brotherly bonding experience” (even though you weren’t a brother)
You adjusted your sunglasses as Keeho set up the net. “Prepare to lose,” he said, smirking at Yechan.
Yechan barely responded, his focus drifting to you. You were adjusting your ponytail, the sun making your skin glow, and it took him a second to realize you were watching him, too. You raised an eyebrow as if to say, caught you staring.
“Are you even good at this?” you teased, stepping closer to him.
Yechan shrugged, rolling his shoulders like it was no big deal. “Guess we’ll find out.”
The game started light-hearted enough, with Intak and Keeho on one team and you and Yechan on the other. You weren’t exactly athletic, but Yechan carried the team effortlessly, his height and reflexes making up for any weaknesses.
“Looks like you’ve been practicing,” you said after he spiked the ball, earning you both a point.
Yechan smirked down at you. “Guess I don’t like losing.”
Keeho groaned from the other side of the net. “Can you two stop flirting for like, five seconds? Some of us are actually trying to win.”
You smirked back at Keeho. “If you tried harder, maybe you’d keep up.”
Keeho dramatically clutched his chest like you’d physically hurt him. “Wow. Betrayal. From my best friend.”
“You’ll get over it,” you said, tossing the ball to Intak for the next serve.
As the game went on, you found yourself hyper-aware of Yechan. The way his shirt clung to him as he moved, the sharp focus in his eyes whenever he went for the ball—it was like you were seeing him in a whole new light.
At one point, you missed a pass and sighed in frustration. Yechan stepped closer, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “Relax. I’ve got you.”
The way he said it sent a shiver down your spine, and you nodded, trying not to let your face give away how flustered you felt.
After the game, you all sprawled out on the sand, catching your breath. Intak and Keeho were arguing over who the real MVP was, while Lara scrolled through her phone, shaking her head at their antics.
You took a sip of water, glancing over at Yechan. He was lying back with his arms behind his head, the relaxed posture only adding to his quiet confidence.
“You’re quiet today,” you said, nudging his foot lightly with yours.
He glanced at you, his expression unreadable. “Just thinking.”
“About?”
Yechan hesitated, his eyes searching yours for a moment. “Nothing important.”
You raised an eyebrow, but before you could press further, Keeho interrupted. “Alright, who’s up for ice cream? My treat, because I clearly carried that game.”
The group groaned collectively, but everyone got up to follow him toward the boardwalk. You hung back for a moment, waiting for Yechan.
As you walked side by side, you leaned in just enough for your shoulder to brush his. “If you ever decide what you’re thinking about, let me know,” you said, your voice soft but teasing.
Yechan glanced down at you, and for once, there was no indifference in his gaze—just a flicker of something raw and honest. “Maybe I will.”
That evening, back at the house, the energy was lighter. Keeho had fallen asleep in the living room, his snores echoing down the hallway, while you were out on the deck, watching the stars.
You felt your phone buzz and looked down to see a message from Yechan.
Thanks for today. You’re not as bad at volleyball as I thought.
You smiled, your fingers hovering over the keyboard before typing back:
You’re welcome. And next time, try to keep up with me.
His reply came quickly.
You make it hard to focus.
Your heart skipped a beat, and you stared at the message, wondering if you were imagining the shift between you two.
Good
You replied, the boldness in your words masking the fluttering in your chest.
From across the hall, you could hear the faint sound of footsteps. A part of you wondered if Yechan was pacing, thinking about what to say next.
Or maybe, just maybe, he was thinking about you.
The evening air was warm but carried a slight chill that made the deck your favourite spot to wind down. The stars were impossibly bright, scattered across the sky like tiny diamonds. You sighed, leaning against the railing, letting the calmness of the moment wrap around you.
The faint creak of the deck boards broke your solitude, and you turned to see Yechan stepping out. He had changed into a plain hoodie and shorts, his hair slightly damp from a shower. He hesitated when he noticed you but then walked over, his hands tucked into his pockets.
“Couldn’t sleep?” you asked, your voice soft.
He shrugged. “Something like that. What about you?”
You gestured toward the sky. “I like the quiet. Helps me think.”
Yechan leaned against the railing beside you, his shoulder just inches from yours. “You? Thinking? That’s new,” he teased lightly, his tone carrying more warmth than usual.
You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “You’re hilarious.”
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. If anything, it was comforting, a rare moment where neither of you felt the need to fill the space with words.
Yechan finally broke the quiet. “About that text I sent earlier...”
Your heart skipped a beat. You played it cool, keeping your gaze on the ocean. “Which part? The compliment or the part where you admitted I distract you?”
A soft laugh escaped him, and he shook his head. “You don’t make this easy, do you?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” you shot back, turning to look at him. His profile was illuminated by the moonlight, and for a moment, you wondered if he had always looked this good, or if summer had somehow made him glow.
Yechan exhaled deeply, his hands gripping the railing. “You’re... different,” he said, his voice low.
“Different how?” you asked, tilting your head.
He glanced at you, his dark eyes searching yours. “I don’t know. It’s like you don’t care what anyone thinks. You just... do what you want. Say what you feel.”
You blinked, caught off guard by his honesty. “Is that a bad thing?”
“No,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “It’s not bad at all.”
The vulnerability in his tone made your chest tighten. You smiled softly, nudging his arm. “You know, Yechan, for someone who acts like they’ve got it all figured out, you’re pretty confusing.”
He chuckled, the sound soft and genuine. “Yeah? Well, you’re not exactly easy to read either.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Me? I’ve been throwing hints your way all summer.”
Yechan straightened, turning to face you fully. “I noticed,” he admitted, his voice dropping slightly. “I just... didn’t know what to do about it.”
Your heart was pounding now, but you refused to let him see how much his words affected you. “And now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
For a moment, he didn’t answer. Instead, he reached up, brushing a stray curl away from your face, his touch feather light. “Now, I’m figuring it out,” he said, his gaze locked onto yours.
The spell between you was broken by the sound of Keeho’s loud snore echoing from inside the house. You both laughed softly, the tension easing but not completely disappearing.
“You should get some sleep,” Yechan said, his voice gentler now.
“Maybe,” you replied, stepping back toward the door. Before you went inside, you turned back to him, your grin playful. “Don’t overthink it, Yechan. I’m not as complicated as you think.”
He watched you go, his lips curving into the faintest smile. Maybe you weren’t complicated. Maybe the only thing making this difficult was his own hesitation.
But one thing was certain: you were nothing like he expected, and he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to know more.
The beach was packed with energy. The usual crew—Keeho, Intak, Lara, and now Yechan—was joined by a few of his friends. One in particular, Gabby, caught your eye. She was petite and pretty, with big doe eyes and a shy demeanour that instantly made her likable to everyone.
Except, maybe, you.
It wasn’t Gabby’s fault. Really, it wasn’t. But watching Yechan fuss over her, making sure she was hydrated, holding her arm as they walked on the uneven sand, and even helping her adjust her beach chair? It was a lot.
You exhaled slowly, determined not to let it get to you. It wasn’t like you and Yechan were a thing. He was free to dote on whoever he wanted.
That didn’t stop the irritation from bubbling in your chest every time he smiled down at Gabby like she was made of glass.
Keeho noticed almost immediately. He nudged you as you stood by the cooler, grabbing a drink. “You okay? You’re being awfully quiet for someone who usually has a lot to say about Yechan.”
“I’m fine,” you replied curtly, popping the tab on your soda.
Keeho gave you a knowing look. “Sure, you are. Totally not seething with jealousy right now.”
You shot him a glare. “I’m not jealous. It’s just... weird, okay?”
“What’s weird?” Lara asked, joining you with her sunglasses perched on her head.
“Gabby,” Keeho answered before you could stop him. “Our girl here is having a hard time watching Yechan play knight in shining armour.”
“I’m not,” you insisted, though your clenched jaw betrayed you.
Lara raised an eyebrow. “I mean, I get it. She’s sweet, but she’s kind of like... the designated little sister of Yechan’s friend group. They all do it. I wouldn’t read too much into it.”
You shrugged, trying to brush it off. “I don’t care what he does.”
Keeho smirked. “Sure, you don’t.”
Determined to prove that you didn’t care, you decided to focus on having fun. You waded into the water, laughing with Intak as he tried to splash you but missed every time. Later, when you felt the sun starting to sting, you grabbed the sunscreen and handed it to Intak without a second thought.
“Help me out?” you asked, turning your back to him.
“Sure thing,” Intak said, rubbing the lotion into your shoulders with the kind of casual ease that only came from years of friendship.
You didn’t miss the way Yechan’s gaze flicked over to you, his jaw tightening slightly before he turned back to Gabby, who was trying to adjust her umbrella.
Keeho, ever the instigator, snickered to himself. “Oh, this is going to be fun,” he muttered to Lara, who rolled her eyes but smiled.
As the afternoon wore on, you decided to make things even more interesting. You and Lara started chatting up the lifeguard stationed nearby, a tall, muscular guy with a charming smile who was more than happy to flirt back.
Yechan, from his spot under the umbrella, watched the interaction with thinly veiled irritation. He didn’t say anything, but his usual calm demeanour seemed a little off.
By the time you returned to the group, laughing at something the lifeguard had said, Keeho was practically vibrating with glee.
“Having fun?” he asked, his tone dripping with mischief.
“Loads,” you replied, throwing him a wink.
Yechan glanced up at you, his expression unreadable. “Done making friends?”
You shrugged, grabbing your towel. “For now.”
He didn’t respond, but the tension between you was palpable, leaving Keeho and Lara exchanging knowing looks behind your back.
Later, as the sun began to set and everyone started packing up, you found yourself alone near the shoreline, the waves lapping at your feet. Yechan approached quietly, his hands stuffed in his pockets.
“Busy day,” he said, his voice neutral.
You glanced at him, a smirk tugging at your lips. “You sound annoyed. Something on your mind?”
He looked at you for a long moment, his jaw tight. “Nothing important.”
You raised an eyebrow, refusing to let him off the hook. “If you’ve got something to say, Yechan, just say it.”
He hesitated, the words on the tip of his tongue, but then he shook his head. “Never mind.”
Frustration bubbled up, but you bit it back. Instead, you turned to the ocean, letting the cool breeze calm your nerves. “Suit yourself.”
Yechan stood there for a moment longer before walking away, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the sound of the waves.
The days after the beach outing carried a tension that no one dared to fully acknowledge. Yechan was distant, though not in a way anyone else seemed to notice. To his friends, he was the same calm and thoughtful guy. To you, though, there was a noticeable shift.
He didn’t tease you as much, didn’t make those passing comments that always left you blushing or flustered. If anything, he seemed to be avoiding you—just enough to make you notice but not enough to draw attention from anyone else.
Which was fine. Totally fine, you told yourself.
Keeho, of course, wasn’t buying it.
“You’re really going to let him ignore you?” he asked one afternoon as you sat on the deck, pretending not to watch Yechan and Gabby playing volleyball with the rest of the group.
“I don’t care,” you said, sipping your drink and refusing to look away from your phone.
Keeho snorted. “Sure, you don’t. That’s why you’ve been glaring at Gabby like she stole your favourite hoodie.”
You rolled your eyes. “I’m not glaring.”
“Uh-huh,” Keeho said, leaning back in his chair. “You know, you could always—”
“I’m not doing anything,” you interrupted, your tone sharp. “If Yechan wants to act like I don’t exist, that’s his problem, not mine.”
Keeho held up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Just saying.”
Despite your best efforts to brush it off, Yechan’s indifference gnawed at you. It wasn’t that you expected anything from him, but after the tension you’d shared at the beach—and the way he had looked at you that night on the deck—it was hard not to feel... disappointed.
So, you threw yourself into enjoying the rest of the summer.
You joined Intak and Lara for early-morning swims, helped Keeho grill during cookouts, and even started practicing volleyball with the lifeguard, who had taken an interest in teaching you the basics.
And if Yechan happened to glance your way when you laughed a little too loudly or stood a little too close to someone else? That was his problem.
The sun was setting, casting an orange glow over the living room as Yechan and his friends lounged around after a day at the beach. Pizza boxes were scattered on the coffee table, and Sungbin had just paused their video game to grab another slice.
Gabby, sitting cross-legged on the armchair, tilted her head curiously toward Yechan. “So, what’s the deal with her? Keeho’s best friend?”
Yechan glanced up from his phone, trying to feign nonchalance. “What about her?”
“Oh, come on,” Seokjun chimed in, grinning. “Don’t play dumb. Gabby’s been dying to ask if there’s something going on between you two.”
Dogyun, the youngest, gasped dramatically. “Wait, are you hiding secret feelings, hyung?!”
Yechan leaned back, rubbing the back of his neck as if the question were too much effort. “She’s Keeho’s crazy best friend. That’s it.”
Sungil raised an eyebrow, setting his drink down. “Yeah, but she’s always around, and I saw the way she looked at you at the beach the other day.”
“She’s gorgeous,” Sungmo added with a shrug. “I’d be interested if I were you.”
Gabby rolled her eyes. “Y’all are hopeless. It’s obvious she’s into him. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”
Yechan hesitated, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Noticed what?”
Gabby leaned forward, her voice teasing. “Don’t act like you don’t know you’re hot. She’s been crushing on you for ages.”
Sungbin laughed, tossing a pillow at Yechan. “Yeah, she probably writes your name in her notebook like a high schooler.”
“She’s not like that,” Yechan replied, his tone more serious now. “She’s… bold but sweet. And I guess I don’t mind it.”
The group erupted into teasing noises, and Gabby threw her hands up in victory. “Ha! Knew it. You do like her!”
Yechan shrugged, picking at a slice of pizza. “I didn’t say that. I just said I don’t mind her.”
Sungil chuckled, pointing at him. “You’re so whipped, bro. Just admit it before she moves on to someone else.”
That got Yechan’s attention. He sat up straighter, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. “Ethan? He’s not her type.”
Gabby and the others exchanged knowing looks but decided not to press further. As the conversation shifted to another topic, Yechan’s thoughts lingered on you—on the way you laughed, the way you spoke, and the way you weren’t afraid to challenge him.
One evening, after another long day at the beach, you found yourself alone in the kitchen, drying dishes. The house was quiet, everyone else scattered between the living room and the deck.
Yechan walked in, his hoodie slung over one shoulder. He paused when he saw you but continued to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water.
“Hey,” he said, his tone neutral.
“Hey,” you replied without looking at him.
He lingered by the counter, taking a long sip of water. The silence stretched between you, heavy and unspoken.
Finally, he broke it. “You’ve been busy.”
You raised an eyebrow, glancing at him. “Is that your way of saying you’ve been watching me?”
Yechan’s lips twitched, the hint of a smile playing at the corners. “Maybe.”
You set down the dish towel, crossing your arms. “And?”
He shrugged, his gaze steady. “And nothing. Just... noticed.”
The way he said it, so casual yet loaded with meaning, made your pulse quicken. But you refused to let him have the upper hand.
“Well, I’m glad I’ve been keeping you entertained,” you said, turning back to the sink.
Yechan didn’t respond right away, but you could feel his eyes on you. Finally, he said, “You’re good at that.”
Before you could figure out how to respond, he was gone, leaving you with the echo of his words and a heart that wouldn’t stop racing.
The lifeguard’s invitation caught you off guard, though you couldn’t deny the rush of satisfaction that followed. His name was Ethan, and he had the confidence of someone who knew exactly how good he looked. He’d been hovering around your group for weeks, always friendly, but today he decided to push the boundaries.
“So,” Ethan said with a grin as you stood by the beach bar, sipping on a cold lemonade, “how about I take you out sometime? Dinner, maybe?”
You blinked, momentarily stunned. You weren’t used to being asked out so directly. But then you remembered Yechan’s lingering glances and the way he’d been brushing you off lately. A small smile crept onto your face.
“Sure,” you said, your voice light. “Why not?”
When you got back to the house, the mood was lively. Everyone was sprawled out in the living room, flipping through a movie selection for the night. Keeho and Lara exchanged a quick glance when they saw you, no doubt curious about the extra spring in your step.
“Where’ve you been?” Keeho asked casually as you dropped onto the couch.
“Just talking to Ethan,” you said, your tone nonchalant.
Keeho’s eyebrow shot up. “Oh, Ethan now, huh?”
“Ethan the lifeguard?” Intak chimed in, leaning forward with a grin. “What’s going on there?”
You smirked, glancing at Yechan, who was lounging against the armrest, his eyes fixed on the TV screen as though he wasn’t listening. “He asked me out,” you said, your voice a little louder than necessary.
The room collectively erupted with a mix of reactions—Lara’s teasing “Ooooh,” Keeho’s mock gasp, and Intak’s exaggerated cheer. But Yechan? He didn’t say a word.
Later that night, as you headed to the kitchen for a glass of water, you found Yechan leaning against the counter, scrolling on his phone. He looked up when you entered, his expression unreadable.
“You and Ethan, huh?” he said, his tone light but laced with something else.
You shrugged, opening the fridge. “What about it?”
He hesitated, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Nothing. Just didn’t think he was your type.”
“And what’s my type, Yechan?” you asked, turning to face him.
He leaned back, crossing his arms. “Not him.”
You raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Should I cancel, then?”
His jaw tightened, but he forced a smirk. “Why would you do that? You seemed pretty excited to say yes.”
You shrugged, your smile playful. “I don’t know. Maybe I just like keeping you guessing.”
The challenge in your voice hung in the air, but Yechan didn’t take the bait. Instead, he pushed off the counter, brushing past you with a casual, “Have fun.”
The door swung shut behind him, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.
The date with Ethan had started promisingly enough. He’d picked a quaint seafood place not far from the beach, the ambiance warm and romantic. But it became painfully clear halfway through the appetizer that he was more interested in talking about himself than getting to know you.
By the time dessert arrived, you’d smiled and nodded so much your cheeks hurt. Ethan was nice enough, but nice wasn’t enough to distract you from the nagging ache that had been building since Yechan’s comment in the kitchen.
Still, you weren’t about to let anyone, especially Yechan, know how disastrous the night had been.
When you got back to the house, the lights were dim, and the only sound was the faint crash of waves through the open windows. You kicked off your sandals and padded into the kitchen, where Yechan sat at the island, scrolling through his phone. He glanced up, his expression neutral but curious.
“You’re back early,” he said, setting his phone down.
“It’s late enough,” you replied, opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water.
Yechan watched you as you leaned against the counter, taking a long sip. “So,” he started, his tone casual, “how was it?”
You shrugged, letting a mischievous smile creep onto your face. “It was great. Ethan’s really sweet. And funny. And, wow, so attentive.”
Yechan’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, but he kept his expression calm. “That right?”
“Mm-hmm,” you said, walking over to stand opposite him. “He even held my hand when we walked on the pier. Like a proper gentleman.”
He snorted, leaning back in his chair. “Sounds like a dream.”
“Oh, he was,” you said, your voice dripping with mock sweetness. “I think we might even go out again. You know, see where things go.”
For a moment, he didn’t respond. The air between you grew heavy, the tension you’d been dancing around all summer threatening to snap. Finally, Yechan stood, closing the space between you in a few deliberate steps.
“You’re really going to sit there and act like he’s what you want?” he said, his voice low, challenging.
Your breath hitched, but you refused to back down. “And what if he is?”
He smirked, the corner of his mouth lifting in a way that sent shivers down your spine. “Then you’ve got terrible taste.”
“Excuse me?” you shot back, narrowing your eyes.
“You heard me,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with frustration. “You think Ethan would’ve known how to make tonight worth your time? How to make you feel special?”
“And you would’ve?” you challenged, your voice rising slightly.
He stepped closer, the intensity in his gaze making your pulse race. “Yeah. I would’ve.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Your heart pounded as you stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. Finally, you found your voice, though it came out softer than you intended.
“Then why didn’t you?”
Yechan’s eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite place—regret, maybe, or resolve. He opened his mouth to respond, but whatever he was about to say was interrupted by the sound of Keeho’s voice calling from upstairs.
You both froze, the spell between you momentarily broken.
Yechan stepped back, running a hand through his hair. “Goodnight,” he said shortly, turning and walking out of the kitchen.
You stood there, your emotions swirling, wondering if you’d ever get the answer to your question.
Your Pov
The kitchen felt emptier after Yechan left, but the charged air he left behind clung to you. You stood frozen, replaying his words in your mind.
“Yeah. I would’ve.”
The way he’d said it, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, had sent a thrill through you that you weren’t ready to admit. But it was the look in his eyes, the mix of challenge and vulnerability, that lingered the most.
You exhaled, gripping the counter for support. Why now? Why had he decided to say something now, when you’d spent weeks playing this game of cat and mouse? Did he mean it, or was he just trying to win whatever unspoken competition he thought you were having?
The question ate at you as you made your way upstairs, your heart pounding with each step.
Yechan’s Pov
Yechan shut the door to his room, leaning against it as he let out a frustrated sigh. He rubbed a hand over his face, replaying the kitchen conversation in his head.
He hadn’t meant to snap. Watching you waltz in and talk about Ethan like he was some Prince Charming had been harder than he expected. Yechan knew he shouldn’t care—it wasn’t like you were his. But hearing you gush, even if it was clearly exaggerated, had struck a nerve.
Because deep down, he knew you were doing it on purpose. And the worst part? It worked.
Yechan paced the room, his emotions warring. He didn’t want to admit it, but the idea of you with someone else—especially someone like Ethan—was unbearable.
He paused by the window, looking out at the dark ocean. Why hadn’t he just said something sooner? Why did he always act so indifferent when it came to you?
The answer was simple: you terrified him. Not in a bad way, but in a way that made him question everything he thought he knew about himself. You weren’t just Keeho’s crazy best friend. You were vibrant, bold, and breath-taking in ways he wasn’t sure he could handle.
But after tonight, Yechan knew one thing for certain—he was done pretending he didn’t care.
The tension after that night in the kitchen didn’t disappear—it lingered like a storm cloud, heavy and oppressive, following you and Yechan everywhere.
He’d been quieter than usual during group hangouts, his snarky comments replaced with clipped responses. But his eyes told a different story. Every time you laughed a little too loudly with Ethan, leaned too close to Keeho, or smiled at Intak, Yechan was watching. He didn’t try to hide it.
You weren’t faring much better. Every sideways glance he threw your way made your stomach flip, and you hated that you were starting to anticipate his reactions.
One evening, Keeho decided to organize a bonfire on the beach. Everyone was there—Lara, Intak, Seokjun, Sungbin, Gabby, and even Ethan, who’d brought his guitar. The crackling fire, combined with the sound of the waves, should’ve been relaxing, but it wasn’t.
You could feel Yechan’s presence even when you weren’t looking at him. He sat a few feet away, his long legs stretched out in the sand, his gaze fixed on the fire but flickering toward you every few minutes.
You tried to ignore him, focusing instead on Ethan, who was strumming some upbeat tune and encouraging everyone to sing along. But when Ethan shifted closer to you, his arm brushing against yours, you couldn’t help but glance at Yechan.
The look he gave you was unreadable, his jaw tight as he turned his attention to the flames.
The tension finally broke when the group started packing up for the night. Ethan offered to walk you back to the house, and you agreed, partly to avoid the awkward silence that had been brewing between you and Yechan.
But as you reached the edge of the porch, Yechan was there, leaning against the railing with his hands in his pockets.
“Didn’t realize you needed a chaperone,” he said, his tone casual but his eyes sharp as they flicked to Ethan.
Ethan laughed awkwardly. “Just being polite, man.”
Yechan didn’t respond, his gaze shifting to you.
“Thanks for the walk, Ethan,” you said quickly, stepping onto the porch.
Ethan hesitated but eventually nodded. “See you tomorrow?”
“Maybe,” you replied, your tone deliberately vague.
When Ethan disappeared down the path, you turned to find Yechan still watching you.
“Was that necessary?” you asked, crossing your arms.
Yechan shrugged, his expression unreadable. “Just looking out for you.”
“I don’t need you to ‘look out for me,’ Yechan,” you snapped, the frustration that had been building for days finally bubbling over.
His eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. Then, without warning, he stepped closer, his voice dropping.
“Do you really not get it?” he asked, his tone laced with frustration.
“Get what?” you shot back, though your heart was pounding.
Yechan exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Forget it,” he muttered, turning toward the door.
But you weren’t about to let him walk away again.
“Yechan,” you said, your voice steady despite the storm raging inside you. “If you have something to say, just say it.”
He froze, his hand on the doorknob, before turning back to face you. His eyes met yours, and for the first time all summer, you saw everything he’d been holding back.
“Maybe I just don’t like seeing you with someone who doesn’t deserve you,” he said finally, his voice soft but firm.
Yechan’s words hung in the air, heavy and unyielding. Your heart pounded in your chest, his confession sending a surge of emotions through you—relief, frustration, and a flicker of hope.
“Doesn’t deserve me?” you repeated, your voice low, trembling with restrained emotion. “And who does, Yechan? You?”
His eyes flashed, his jaw tightening as he stepped closer. “Maybe I do,” he said, his voice laced with heat and vulnerability. “Maybe I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you all summer while you’ve been busy parading Ethan around like some prize.”
You blinked, stunned by his boldness. “You’ve been brushing me off for the longest,” you shot back, your voice rising. “Acting like I’m just Keeho’s crazy best friend, like I don’t mean anything to you!”
“Because I didn’t want to screw this up!” he exploded, his frustration spilling over. “Do you know how hard it’s been? Watching you, wanting you, and not knowing if you actually see me or if I’m just some crush you’re going to get over when you find someone better?”
You stared at him, your anger simmering as his words sank in. “You don’t get to play the victim, Yechan,” you said, stepping closer. “I’ve been here, waiting for you to give me a single sign that you care, and all you’ve done is push me away.”
“I was scared,” he admitted, his voice dropping. “Scared that I wasn’t enough for you. That I’d mess things up and lose you completely.”
“Then stop running,” you said, your voice soft but steady.
His gaze locked on yours, and in that moment, the last of his restraint crumbled.
He closed the distance between you in two quick steps, his hands cupping your face as he kissed you with all the urgency and emotion he’d been holding back. It wasn’t gentle or careful—it was raw, heated, and filled with everything neither of you had been able to say.
You melted into him, your hands gripping his shirt as you kissed him back, matching his intensity. The world around you seemed to fade, the only thing that mattered was him—his touch, his warmth, his unmistakable presence.
When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathing hard, your foreheads pressed together.
“You drive me insane, you know that?” he murmured, his voice rough but filled with a hint of a smile.
You let out a breathless laugh. “Good. Now you know how I feel.”
He chuckled softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “This doesn’t mean I’m going to make it easy for you.”
“I’d be disappointed if you did,” you teased, your lips curling into a grin.
For the first time all summer, the tension between you wasn’t a barrier—it was a promise.
The kiss was a spark that lit the fuse. Neither of you hesitated as Yechan took your hand, his fingers threading through yours as he pulled you toward the stairs. Your heart raced, not just from the kiss but from the intensity in his eyes—like he’d been holding himself back for so long and finally decided not to anymore.
The sky seemed to tilt as he lifted you, carrying you with ease to his bedroom. You didn’t protest, your arms looping around his neck as you pressed kisses to his jawline, the faint stubble tickling your lips.
In his room, the walls bore witness to the unravelling of restraint. He set you down, his fingers skimming the straps of your sundress as if asking for permission.
“You’re thinking,” he said, his voice low and rough.
You tilted your head, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “And you’re not?”
“Not anymore,” he murmured, stepping closer.
He kissed you again, softer this time, his hands finding your waist and pulling you against him. It was different—slower but no less charged, like he was trying to make up for all the moments he’d held himself back.
Your hands found their way to his chest, his shoulders, anywhere you could touch, as you deepened the kiss. The tension that had been building all summer spilled over, each touch, each kiss, carrying the weight of everything you’d both left unsaid.
As he guided you to his bed and laid you down, his lips never leaving yours, the memory of the picture you’d sent flashed in your mind. You pulled back slightly, your breathing uneven as you met his gaze.
“That picture,” you said softly, your voice teasing.
His lips curved into a smirk, his hands sliding up your sides. “Yeah?”
“Did you like it?”
Yechan chuckled, his voice low and dangerous. “Liked it enough to almost lose a game over it.”
You laughed, your fingers tangling in his hair. “Good. That’s what I was going for.”
He leaned down, his forehead resting against yours. “You’re trouble, you know that?”
“Only for you,” you whispered, pulling him back down to you.
The moon had kissed the horizon, leaving a faint silver glow over the room. As you pulled Yechan closer to you, the energy between you was palpable—a mix of unspoken words and longing too intense to ignore.
“Do you even know what you do to me?” Yechan murmured, his voice low, gravelly, as his hand slipped from your waist to intertwine with your fingers.
His words hung in the air like the tide at its peak, lingering, refusing to recede. You shifted closer, your heart pounding, and placed your free hand on his chest. Beneath your touch, his heart beat just as fiercely, a rhythm that echoed your own.
“I could say the same about you,” you replied, your voice a whisper, as if anything louder would break the spell.
Yechan’s gaze softened, his possessiveness melting into something more tender, more reverent. He reached up, tracing the curve of your jaw with his thumb, his touch so delicate it made your breath catch.
“From the moment you sent that picture,” he said, his lips curving into a faint smirk, “I haven’t been able to think straight. You’ve been in my head—every moment, every thought.”
Heat warmed your cheeks, but you met his eyes, unyielding. “So, what are you going to do about it?
His answer was a kiss, slow and purposeful, like the first drop of rain after a long drought. It deepened with every passing second, his hands sliding to your waist, pulling you flush against him. His lips spoke the words his heart hadn’t yet dared to say: You’re mine. I’ll prove it.
“You’re beautiful,” he breathed, his voice breaking slightly, heavy with emotion.
You reached for him, your hands tracing his collarbone, his shoulders, as if committing every inch of him to memory. “So are you,” you replied, meaning it.
What followed was a symphony of stolen breath and whispered confessions. He worshiped every part of you with a reverence that made your chest ache, made you feel seen in a way no one ever had before.
“I would’ve been better,” he whispered at one point, his voice raw, his lips pressed to your shoulder. “No one could ever be better for you than me.”
“Then prove it,” you challenged, your voice teasing but your eyes daring him.
Tugging him back to you by the back of his neck, you reciprocate the need in this kiss, screaming all the things you’ve been holding back over the past weeks. Yechan straightens, heat coursing through him as hands reaching for the hem of your sundress to get access to you. You shiver lightly at the chill of his fingertips against your warm skin.
His lips caught yours once more, swallowing your sigh of content when his hands found your sensitive mounds. They moulded to the shape of his cool palms with every grope and squeeze. His thumbs ran over your pebbling nipples, then his kisses left your lips in favour of trailing them down your jaw, neck and chest. Making sure to kiss lovingly over each beauty mark on his way down to your needy nipples.
“Fuck, Yechan.” You sighed out, arching into his touch, feeling his tongue flick over your left nipple then the right. Softly caressing them and sending subtle waves of pleasure down to your core. Your bikini bottoms were soaking for sure, but not from the earlier swim. Peeking down at Yechan, you swore he looked so pretty toying and licking at your breasts.
At the realisation that he’s still fully clothed, he sheds his own t-shirt, grabbing the back of his collar and pulling it up over his head. Your eyes trail over his honeyed torso that melts into fine lines between defined abs. Yeah, you were crazy about him.
Reaching out to trace your fingers along his warm skin, taut muscles contracting at the coldness of your fingertips. Your fingers move at their own accord, tugging his drawstrings loose and hooking them beneath his waistband. Looking up at him through your lashes, he bites his lip as he pulls down his sweats, throwing them to the side.
Both left in only your underwear, he captures your lips once more and you hold each other close. So close you can feel each other’s warmth between your bodies. He’s hard against your clothed core and you know you’re about to completely ruin your bottoms when you reach a hand down to palm him over his briefs.
“Shit, baby. That feels good.” Yechan grunts, kissing you messily and gripping your waist firmly. He pants against your lips as he ruts into your touch, your mind goes wild at the size of him hidden away.
Yechan groans and pulls the flimsy material of your bottoms down and tosses them off to the side. Tugging him back in for a searing kiss, Yechan swallows your whimpers of pleasure that his skilled fingers earn him. Collecting the arousal on two of his digits before easing them past your tight entrance. Your gummy walls encasing them in warmth that causes his length to twitch within the confinement of his briefs.
With precision, he takes in all your reactions with concentration, curling and twisting his fingers to bring you absolute pleasure. Breaking from your kiss to mouth at your neck, your mewling sending blood straight to his aching cock. “You sound so pretty.” He noses up the side of your neck to whisper deeply, “Does that feel good, baby?” Kissing right on your pulse.
Your walls clench tightly around his digits, earning yourself a pleased chuckle. His thumb meets your clit and electricity shoots through you. The band of pleasure tightening with each drag and brush against that spot that makes you see stars. This shouldn’t feel so right, so good and so perfect. But it does and you’re coming undone.
Not letting you ride it out completely before he kisses you over and over, as he reaches over to his bedside drawer for a condom. Ridding himself of the last item of clothing, he sits on his knees to put it on, he gives himself a few pumps before leaning back over you. He lines his tip up with your entrance, making sure to hold your eye contact in case you changed your mind. But you didn’t, you simply spread your legs wider, with an assuring nod and he slid in slowly.
A whimper reached his ears and he kissed the side of your face repeatedly, “It’s okay, I know, baby. I know.” His soft kisses distracted you from the slight sting and before you knew it, your bodies were pressed flush against each other.
Your needy voice was the only thing he needed as he began to pull back till just the tip and slid back into you so smoothly thanks to your previous orgasm. He held himself up to thrust into you slowly, deeply. All while watching your reactions, you were very responsive. Especially when you could quite literally feel all of him dragging deliciously against your slippery walls. The eye contact made it that much sexier cause damn, he looked gorgeous.
You wrapped your legs around his waist and the new angle allowing his tip to dig into that same spongy spot that had you seeing stars.
“Oh fuck, Yechan. Right there.” You didn’t need to tell him twice. Yechan was now ramming into that spot repeatedly. Pushing you closer and closer towards the edge of your second climax, but you fight it off and he notices.
“It’s okay, baby. You can cum.” You shake your head in resistance and he chuckles amused. “Be a good girl and cum.”
Whatever was in his tone made your body listen, submitting to the pleasure and succumbing to the climax. Though Yechan, didn’t think it through because his own climax ran through him at the tightening of your walls. Cursing through gritted teeth, his grip on your waist is bruising as he slams into you one last time, shallowly stroking to make it last for both of you. Hips stilling, chests heaving, you run your hands up and down his slippery back. Needing to be touching every inch of him.
The stillness after was soft, like the lull of waves against the shore. Yechan lay beside you, his hand brushing over your curls as he whispered praises into the quiet.
“You’re unreal,” he murmured, his lips pressing against your temple. “Everything about you. You’re mine, yeah?”
“Yours,” you replied, your voice heavy with sleep and satisfaction.
The room was quiet except for the sound of your soft breathing and the distant crash of the waves outside. Yechan lay beside you, his arm draped over your waist, his fingers idly tracing patterns on your skin. The fire that had consumed both of you earlier had burned down to a warm, steady glow, leaving you cocooned in the aftereffects of your shared vulnerability.
“You okay?” he murmured, his voice hushed and tender.
You turned your head to meet his eyes, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah. Are you?”
His expression softened, and he nodded, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Better than okay.”
The honesty in his words made your chest tighten. You reached up to touch his cheek, your thumb grazing over his skin. “You’re kind of perfect when you’re like this,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Don’t get used to it. I’ve got a reputation to protect.”
You laughed, the sound light and free, as you curled closer to him. He held you there, his hand smoothing over your back, grounding you in the warmth of his presence.
Eventually, he helped you sit up, brushing a kiss to your shoulder before grabbing one of his oversized hoodies for you to wear.
“Here,” he said, slipping it over your head with a teasing smile. “Not that I’m complaining, but I don’t want you catching a cold.”
“Look at you being all responsible,” you teased, though the gesture made your heart swell.
Yechan raised an eyebrow, smirking as he leaned down. “Don’t push it.”
In the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the blinds, the two of you cleaned up together. There was a surprising sweetness to it, like this was something you’d done a hundred times before. When everything was settled, you ended up back in his bed, tangled together under the covers.
“You drive me insane,” he said again, his voice muffled as he pressed his face into your neck.
“Good,” you whispered, brushing your fingers through his hair. “I plan to keep doing it.”
His quiet laugh rumbled against your skin, and for the first time in weeks, the tension between you dissolved into something warm and certain.
You woke to sunlight streaming through the window and the smell of coffee drifting up from downstairs. Yechan was still asleep, his arm slung across your waist, his face peaceful in the morning light.
The moment of quiet bliss didn’t last long.
A loud knock on the door made you both jolt awake.
“Yechan, get your lazy ass up,” Keeho’s voice called from the hallway. “Breakfast is ready, and Mom’s on the phone asking where you are.”
Your eyes widened as panic set in. “Oh my gosh,” you whispered, scrambling to sit up.
Yechan groaned, running a hand over his face. “Relax. He’s not coming in.”
As if on cue, the door handle jiggled.
“Bro, is your door locked? What are you hiding?” Keeho’s teasing tone was unmistakable.
You glared at Yechan, who looked entirely too amused by the situation. “This is your fault,” you hissed.
He smirked, pulling you back down beside him. “Let him figure it out.”
You froze, your heart racing as Keeho continued to rattle the door handle.
“Seriously, Yechan?” Keeho’s voice was louder now, laced with playful suspicion. “Are you hiding something in there? Is it Gabby? Oh my gosh… is it Jun?”
Yechan snorted, his arm tightening around your waist as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. “He’s such a drama queen.”
“This isn’t funny,” you hissed, elbowing him.
“Yechan!” Keeho banged on the door again. “Come on, I’m not leaving until you open up.”
Yechan sighed, clearly enjoying your panicked expression a little too much. He kissed your temple before finally sitting up. “Relax. I’ve got this.”
You watched, equal parts horrified and curious, as Yechan padded to the door, unlocking it just enough to peek his head out.
“Dude, chill,” he said, his tone as nonchalant as ever. “What do you want?”
Keeho squinted at him suspiciously. “Why’s your door locked? And why do you look so...” He gestured vaguely. “...dishevelled?”
Yechan shrugged, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Maybe because you woke me up at the ass-crack of dawn?”
Keeho crossed his arms, clearly not buying it. “It’s almost noon, Yechan.” His eyes narrowed. “You’re hiding something. Is Gabby in there?”
“Why are you so obsessed with Gabby?” Yechan shot back, rolling his eyes. “She’s not here, Keeho. Now can I get dressed, or are you planning to stand here all day?”
Keeho looked like he wanted to argue, but eventually, he relented. “Fine. But hurry up, dude.”
Yechan shut the door with a quiet click and turned to you, a victorious smirk on his face.
“See? Told you I had it under control.”
You glared at him, throwing a pillow in his direction. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.” He crossed the room, leaning over you with a smug grin. “You’re just mad because I look this good after waking up.”
You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in his gaze made it impossible to stay annoyed.
“Come on,” he said softly, tilting your chin up. “Let’s get downstairs before Keeho comes back.”
As much as you wanted to stay in the comfort of his room, the thought of Keeho barging in again was enough to spur you into action.
The tension from earlier still clung to you like the salty air as you followed Yechan downstairs, but you both kept it light, the playful energy returning. The scent of pancakes and eggs wafted through the house as you made your way to the kitchen. Keeho was already sitting at the counter, scrolling through his phone, his posture relaxed, but his eyes immediately snapped up when you entered.
“About time,” Keeho said, a teasing smile curling on his lips as his gaze flickered between you and Yechan. “I thought I was gonna have to come up there and drag you both down.”
Yechan shrugged, clearly unfazed. “I’m just giving her time to wake up. She’s not as strong as me in the mornings.”
You rolled your eyes, grabbing a plate. “Oh please. If anyone’s a morning person, it’s me.”
“You sure about that?” Yechan raised an eyebrow, his smirk never leaving his face. He was clearly enjoying the playful back-and-forth.
“I’m sure. You’ve never seen me before my coffee.” You turned to Keeho. “I’m also sure I could probably take you in a race to the kitchen.”
Keeho laughed, clearly entertained. “Sure, you could, but I think I’m still the fastest here.”
“You wanna test it?” Yechan cut in, his voice light but with a glint of challenge in his eyes.
Keeho didn’t miss the opportunity, standing up. “You’re on. But no cheating, little brother.”
You watched with amusement as they squared off, already planning out some impromptu race down the beach later. The absurdity of it all made your chest tighten in a way that was almost... nice.
“Fine, but if I win, you’re making breakfast tomorrow,” Keeho said, throwing down the challenge.
Yechan pretended to consider it before nodding. “Deal. But if I win, you’re doing my laundry for a week.”
The two of them laughed at the thought, and you couldn’t help but shake your head. The light-hearted moment was a stark contrast to the complicated emotions still buzzing inside you, but for now, it felt like a little pocket of relief.
You all sat down together, continuing the banter as you ate, the conversation flowing easily between you, Yechan, and Keeho. Despite everything that had happened, there was a comfortable sense of normalcy—at least for now.
“So,” Keeho said between bites, glancing at you with a mischievous grin. “How was the date last night? I heard it went so well.”
You swallowed, the memory of Ethan and the awkwardness of the date still fresh in your mind. “Yeah, it was... fine,” you said, forcing a smile. “Nothing compared to hanging out here, though.”
Yechan’s gaze flickered over to you, a subtle change in his expression, but he said nothing, opting instead to reach over and steal a pancake off your plate.
Keeho raised an eyebrow at the interaction but didn’t push further. “Good, good. Just don’t forget you’ve got the rest of the summer to enjoy, okay? No more distractions.”
You shot Yechan a look, half teasing and half challenging. “No more distractions, huh? Guess we’ll see about that.”
Yechan, ever the smooth talker, winked at you. “No promises, but I’ll try to keep it interesting.”
As the conversation continued, you couldn’t shake the sense that something had shifted, not just between you and Yechan, but in the space between all of you. And for now, you were okay with that.
The rest of the morning passed in a haze of laughter and light teasing, with Keeho leaving the kitchen to go hang out with Intak. You and Yechan had a brief, stolen moment alone while the others were getting ready for the day.
You were at the kitchen counter, mindlessly scrolling through your phone when Yechan suddenly appeared behind you, leaning over your shoulder. His presence was warm, familiar-and now, it felt different, charged with the unspoken promise that had settled between you the night before.
“You’ve got a smudge right here,” he said, his fingers gently brushing the side of your lip.
You froze, suddenly acutely aware of his closeness. His touch lingered longer than necessary, and when you looked up at him, your breath caught. His lips were close-too close. The air between you crackled.
“Yechan.” You whispered, your voice trailing off as your eyes met his.
He didn’t respond right away, his gaze lowering to your lips before meeting your eyes again. There was something almost playful in the way he looked at you, but the tension was undeniable.
“You’re too easy to tease” he murmured with a smirk before brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. “But I like it.”
A teasing smile tugged at your lips. “ls that so?”
Before you could say anything else, he closed the gap, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was soft at first, tentative as if he was testing the waters. But when you kissed him back, something shifted—his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, until the world around you seemed to disappear.
The sound of footsteps approaching made you both pull away, reluctantly. “You’re incorrigible,” you muttered, trying to hide the heat creeping up your neck.
Yechan smirked, his voice low and teasing. “Just getting started.”
Later that day, as the group hung out by the beach, you couldn’t help but find moments to steal away with Yechan.
There was something intoxicating about the way he would catch your eye, that knowing look that spoke volumes without needing to say a word.
As you sat on the sand, watching Keeho and Lara argue about something ridiculous (probably related to some new viral video trend), Yechan leaned over and whispered in your ear. “I'll race you to the water,” he challenged, his voice low, but the challenge was clear.
“Only if you promise to hold my hand the entire way,” you shot back, grinning at the playful spark in his eyes.
Yechan’s lips curved into a smile, and he grabbed your hand. “I promise.”
And just like that, you were both running toward the waves, laughing, carefree, the promise of more stolen moments between you hanging in the air.
That night, as the stars shimmered overhead and the warmth of the day slowly faded into the cool night, you sat next to Yechan on the porch, the two of you in comfortable silence.
“You know,” he started, his voice quieter than usual, “I’m glad you’re here this summer.”
You turned to face him, the playful smile from earlier replaced with something more sincere. “Me too.”
“Promise me we’ll make the most of it,” he said softly, his hand brushing against yours.
“l promise,” you whispered, your heart racing at the sincerity in his eyes.
And just like that, in the soft glow of the fading day, everything felt right. You were no longer just his brother’s best friend. You were someone special to him. And this summer-this stolen time -was just the beginning.
The days bled into nights, and with each passing hour, the line between stolen glances and stolen moments blurred until it felt like second nature. No one seemed to notice—at least, no one said anything. Keeho was oblivious, his usual antics enough to keep suspicion at bay, but you and Yechan had mastered the art of subtlety.
After a long movie night in the living room, Keeho and the others had retreated to their rooms, leaving the house quiet. The credits had barely rolled before Yechan gave you that look—the one that made your stomach flip and your pulse race.
“You staying here?” he asked, voice low as he leaned closer.
“Not a chance,” you whispered back, your lips curling into a sly smile.
It was a practiced routine by now. You’d wait a few minutes after everyone went to bed, then quietly slip out of your room and into his. The risk of getting caught only made it more exciting.
When you made it to his room that night, Yechan was waiting, the faint glow of his phone the only light in the room. He looked up as you closed the door behind you, his face breaking into a soft smile.
“Took you long enough,” he teased, his voice hushed.
You rolled your eyes, climbing onto the bed beside him. “I didn’t want Keeho to hear me.”
He chuckled, setting his phone down and pulling you into his arms. “You’re too careful. He’s clueless, trust me.”
“Still.” You rested your head on his chest, his steady heartbeat soothing the lingering tension from the day.
Yechan’s fingers traced lazy patterns on your back as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “I missed you,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.
You smiled, tilting your head to look at him. “You saw me all day.”
“Not like this,” he countered, brushing a curl away from your face. “Not when it’s just us.”
The pet names started naturally, slipping into your conversations like they’d always been there.
“Baby,” he said one night, the word rolling off his tongue so effortlessly it made you pause.
You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Baby?”
He shrugged, grinning. “What? It suits you.” He then adds in a sultry tone, “You didn’t mind it that night.”
“You’re ridiculous,” you said, though the warmth in your chest betrayed your words.
“Admit it,” he teased, his fingers tilting your chin up. “You like it.”
You didn’t answer, but the smile you gave him was all the confirmation he needed.
The nights were filled with whispered conversations, soft kisses, and quiet promises. Yechan would hold you close, his hand always finding yours, his words laced with a vulnerability that made your heart ache in the best way.
“You know,” he said one night, his voice a soft rumble against your ear, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before.”
You looked up at him, your fingers brushing over his cheek. “Like what?”
“Like I’d do anything to keep this—to keep you,” he admitted, his gaze unwavering.
Your breath hitched, the weight of his words settling over you. “You already have me,” you whispered, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips.
The nights spent sneaking into Yechan’s room were both thrilling and dangerous. Every soft laugh, every whispered name, every shared kiss felt like balancing on a knife’s edge, the thrill of almost getting caught only adding to the intoxicating pull between you. But the universe—or maybe just Keeho—was bound to catch on eventually.
It started innocently enough. The group had gathered around the living room, sprawled across couches and bean bags for another movie night. Keeho, ever the host, had gone all out with popcorn, snacks, and a carefully curated list of summer blockbusters.
You sat on the floor near Keeho, trying not to look too obvious when your gaze flickered to Yechan on the other side of the room. His smirk was subtle, but the way he stretched, his shirt lifting just slightly to reveal a sliver of skin, was not subtle.
“Eyes up here,” Keeho teased, snapping his fingers in front of your face. “You’re zoning out again. Thinking about the lifeguard?”
You rolled your eyes, snatching the bowl of popcorn from him. “Please. That ship sailed weeks ago.”
Keeho raised an eyebrow, his expression curious. “Interesting. So, who’s got your attention now?”
Before you could answer, Lara nudged Keeho. “Maybe it’s not a who. Maybe she’s just vibing, Keeho. Let her live.”
You flashed her a grateful smile, but Keeho’s gaze lingered on you a second too long, his eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to piece something together.
Later that night, as the house fell into its familiar quiet rhythm, you slipped out of your room, your steps careful on the hardwood floors. Yechan’s door was already cracked open, his shadow moving just behind it.
“You’re late,” he teased as you slid inside, closing the door behind you.
“Blame Keeho,” you muttered, flopping onto his bed. “He’s getting nosy.”
Yechan joined you, leaning back on the pillows with a soft chuckle. “He’s always nosy. Don’t let it get to you, baby.”
“He’s not stupid, Yechan,” you said, your voice quieter now. “What if he figures it out?”
Yechan reached for your hand, threading his fingers through yours. “Then he’ll figure it out. What can he do about it?” You bit your lip, unsure how to respond. But Yechan leaned closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Stop worrying. We’re careful.”
“Are we?” you asked, arching an eyebrow.
Yechan laughed softly, the sound warm and reassuring. “Okay, mostly careful. But, baby, I like having you here.” His voice sincere even as his kisses trail down your body.
His words melted your tension, and you found yourself smiling as your breath hitches. “I like being here.”
“So then stop worrying,” he starts, hands tugging your bottoms down, “and let me kiss you.”
The next morning, Keeho’s suspicion reached a tipping point. You and Yechan were in the kitchen, laughing over something stupid, when Keeho walked in. He stopped mid-step, his eyes darting between the two of you.
“What’s so funny?” he asked, his tone casual, but his gaze sharp.
Yechan, ever the smooth talker, shrugged. “Inside joke.”
Keeho crossed his arms, leaning against the counter. “Inside joke, huh? You two seem awfully close these days.”
You froze, but Yechan didn’t miss a beat. “We’ve lived in the same house all summer, Keeho. It’s called bonding.”
Keeho raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Uh-huh. Bonding.”
As the tension hung in the air, you scrambled for a distraction. “Keeho, didn’t Lara ask you to help with the shower head?”
Keeho stared at you for a moment longer before sighing. “Fine. But don’t think I’m not watching you two.”
As he walked away, Yechan let out a low whistle. “That was close.”
“Too close,” you muttered, your heart still racing.
Yechan grinned, leaning closer to press a quick kiss to your cheek. “Maybe. But worth it.”
The days following Keeho’s suspicious glance were carefully balanced. You and Yechan tried to keep your distance in public, but behind closed doors, your connection only deepened.
That night, after another group dinner, you found yourself in Yechan’s room once more. The moonlight filtering through the curtains cast soft shadows across the room as you lay tangled together on his bed.
“You know,” Yechan began, his voice barely above a whisper, “I don’t think I can keep pretending you’re just Keeho’s best friend anymore.”
You looked up at him, your fingers tracing idle patterns along his jawline. “You’re the one who wanted to keep this a secret.”
He sighed, his hand brushing over your curls. “I know. But it’s getting harder to act like I don’t care when you’re around. Especially when Keeho keeps making those dumb jokes about you and some random guy.”
A small smile tugged at your lips. “Jealous, are we?”
Yechan rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it. Instead, he pulled you closer, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was both soft and demanding. When he pulled away, his voice was serious.
“I just don’t want to hide this anymore,” he admitted. “Not from Keeho, not from anyone.”
The next morning, Keeho’s suspicions finally got the better of him. You’d gone to grab a drink from the kitchen, still half-asleep, when you ran into him.
“You’ve been sneaking around,” he said, his tone light but his expression calculated.
“What are you talking about?” you asked, playing dumb as you reached for the orange juice.
Keeho crossed his arms, leaning against the counter. “You and Yechan. Don’t play dumb with me.”
Your heart skipped a beat, but you kept your face neutral. “We’ve just been hanging out more. What’s the big deal?”
Keeho snorted. “Hanging out? You really expect me to believe that?”
Before you could respond, Yechan appeared in the doorway, his expression calm but his eyes sharp.
“What’s going on?” Yechan asked, his voice steady as he stepped into the kitchen.
Keeho turned to him, his gaze narrowing. “You tell me. You and my best friend seem awfully close these days.”
Yechan didn’t hesitate. “We are. And before you say anything, this isn’t some fling. I like her, Keeho. A lot.”
Keeho blinked, clearly taken aback by Yechan’s bluntness. “You’re serious?”
“Dead serious,” Yechan replied, his tone unwavering.
Keeho looked between the two of you, his expression unreadable. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh. “I can’t believe this. You couldn’t have told me sooner?”
“We wanted to,” you said quickly, stepping forward. “But we didn’t know how you’d react.”
Keeho shook his head, a small smile breaking through his stern expression. “I guess if it had to be anyone, I’m glad it’s Yechan. But you two better not make this weird for me.”
Relief flooded through you as Yechan reached for your hand, squeezing it gently.
“We’ll try our best,” Yechan said, his smirk returning.
Keeho was trying—really, he was. After the big reveal, he promised to be cool about it, but that didn’t stop him from teasing you both at every opportunity.
At breakfast one morning, he glanced up from his plate, smirking. “So, how’s my baby brother treating you? Still sneaking around, or should I expect to see PDA in my kitchen now?”
You rolled your eyes, biting into your toast. “We’re not sneaking, and no, you won’t see anything in the kitchen. Relax.”
Yechan, sitting beside you, grinned as he reached for your hand under the table. “I mean, if she wants to kiss me right now—”
“Don’t even think about it,” Keeho interrupted, his tone mock-serious.
The teasing didn’t stop there. Whenever Yechan left the room, Keeho leaned in conspiratorially. “You better not hurt him, you know.”
“I think it’s him you should be warning,” you shot back, smirking.
Keeho shook his head, laughing. “Gosh, you’re both impossible.”
With Keeho begrudgingly on board, you and Yechan had more freedom to be yourselves. The first time you held hands in front of everyone, Lara and Intak exchanged knowing smiles, but no one said anything.
On quieter nights, Yechan took you on walks along the beach. The moonlight reflected off the waves as you strolled, your fingers intertwined.
“You’re gorgeous,” he said softly one night, stopping to look at you.
“You’ve said that before,” you replied, though the warmth in your chest betrayed your nonchalance.
“Yeah, but I’ll keep saying it until you believe it.” His voice was earnest, his gaze unwavering.
Moments like these reminded you just how serious Yechan was about you. He wasn’t just playful or flirty—he was thoughtful, always paying attention to the little things that mattered most to you.
It didn’t take long for Keeho to move from begrudging acceptance to begrudging support. One afternoon, he caught Yechan helping you carry a stack of beach chairs.
“You two are disgustingly cute,” Keeho said, shaking his head.
“You’re welcome to help,” you shot back, smirking.
Keeho pretended to think about it before shrugging. “Nah, I think I’ll let Yechan handle it. Good practice for taking care of you.”
Yechan laughed, unfazed. “Better me than you.”
Keeho’s expression softened, and though he didn’t say it outright, you knew he was happy for both of you.
The smell of fresh coffee drifted through the air, mixing with the saltiness of the ocean breeze that slipped through the open windows. You were sprawled out on the living room couch, legs tucked beneath you, scrolling idly on your phone while the morning sun warmed the hardwood floors.
Yechan emerged from the hallway, hair mussed from sleep and hoodie hanging off one shoulder. He yawned dramatically, ruffling his hair as he spotted you.
“You’re up early,” he said, padding toward the kitchen.
“It’s almost noon,” you replied without looking up, a smile tugging at your lips.
“Details,” he mumbled, pouring himself a cup of coffee. He leaned against the counter, mug in hand, watching you. “What’s the plan for today?”
You shrugged. “Keeho’s still asleep, and Intak went for a run. No one’s made any grand declarations about fun yet.”
He chuckled, setting his mug down and wandering over to you. Without a word, he flopped onto the couch beside you, making the cushions sink dramatically.
“Do you mind?” you teased, nudging him with your elbow.
“Not at all,” he replied, draping an arm over the back of the couch, dangerously close to your shoulders. “This is my house, after all.”
You rolled your eyes but didn’t move away. There was something calming about mornings like this—no rush, no plans, just the easy rhythm of summer days.
Yechan picked up the remote and started flipping through channels, settling on a random cooking show. You raised an eyebrow.
“Seriously? A cooking show?”
“It’s relaxing,” he said simply, settling deeper into the cushions.
A comfortable silence stretched between you, broken only by the soft hum of the TV and the occasional clink of his mug as he sipped his coffee.
It wasn’t an extraordinary moment by any means, but something about it felt significant—like these quiet, unremarkable mornings were what you’d miss the most when summer came to an end.
“You’re staring,” Yechan said suddenly, turning his head to smirk at you.
“Am not,” you lied, your cheeks heating.
“Sure, baby,” he teased, leaning closer. “Whatever you say.”
And just like that, the lazy morning dissolved into playful banter, laughter echoing through the house as the waves crashed softly in the distance.
Yechan was in the middle of flipping through the channels again when Lara appeared at the foot of the stairs, a towel wrapped around her head and an unmistakable gleam of mischief in her eyes.
“Good morning, lovebirds,” she said, smirking as she plopped down on the arm of the couch.
“Morning,” you replied, ignoring the nickname.
Yechan just raised an eyebrow. “What’s with the look?”
“I have a brilliant idea,” she declared, clapping her hands together. “Girls’ spa day. No boys allowed.”
You perked up immediately. “Ooh, I’m in!”
“Wait, what?” Yechan interjected, sitting up straighter. “What do you mean, no boys allowed?”
“Exactly what I said,” Lara replied smoothly. “You and Keeho can go entertain yourselves. Maybe bond over some manly beach volleyball or something.”
“Manly volleyball?” he repeated with mock offense.
Lara ignored him, turning back to you. “We’ll do face masks, manicures, pedicures—the whole thing. I brought my favourite scrubs and serums. It’s going to be amazing.”
“I love this idea already,” you said, grinning.
Yechan groaned dramatically, flopping back against the couch. “This is discrimination.”
“You’ll live,” Lara shot back, pulling you up from the couch. “Come on, let’s set up. We can use the upstairs bathroom—it has the best lighting.”
You shot Yechan a smug look as you followed Lara toward the stairs.
“You’re abandoning me for some cucumbers and lotion?” he called after you, feigning betrayal.
“Cucumbers and lotion are way more relaxing than you,” you retorted, sticking your tongue out at him.
He opened his mouth to respond, but Lara cut him off with a firm, “Bye, Yechan!”
As the two of you disappeared upstairs, you heard him mutter under his breath, “Keeho better be awake, or I’m stealing Intak’s snacks.”
The upstairs bathroom had been transformed into a makeshift spa—candles lined the sink, their soft glow adding a calming ambiance to the room. The faint smell of lavender filled the air, mixing with the sound of bubbly laughter and running water as Lara set up a foot soak near the tub.
“You know,” Lara said, carefully pouring essential oils into the basin, “we should really thank Keeho for being so oblivious. If he’d paid closer attention to you and Yechan before this summer, he might’ve ruined everything.”
You laughed, sitting cross-legged on a towel by the sink while applying a face mask. “Honestly? He was way too focused on clowning me for my crush to notice the real shift.”
Lara smirked, placing a cucumber slice over each eye and leaning back against the tub. “It’s wild how things can change so fast, though. One minute you’re pining over Yechan like a lovesick puppy, and now you’re actually with him.”
You paused for a moment, her words sinking in. It had happened quickly—those stolen moments, playful confessions, and now this full-fledged relationship. It felt surreal. “Yeah, but I’m still kind of getting used to it,” you admitted, fiddling with the edge of your towel. “I mean, it’s Yechan. I never thought he’d see me like… this.”
Lara opened one eye and peeked at you. “Are you kidding? You’re gorgeous. The rest of us have known this for years. He’d have to be blind not to notice.”
You smiled at her encouragement, but your thoughts wandered. “It’s just weird, you know? Like, I’ve spent so much time liking him, and now I have to shift into being with him. What if I mess it up?”
Lara sat up, pulling off the cucumber slices and placing a hand on your shoulder. “Girl, stop. You’re not going to mess it up. Yechan adores you—anyone can see that. And if you start overthinking, that’s what I’m here for.”
You chuckled softly. “Thanks, Lara. You’re the best.”
“Of course, I am,” she said dramatically, leaning back again. “Now, let’s talk about the important stuff. Like… how the hell did Keeho take it when you guys told him?”
You burst out laughing, the memory of Keeho’s reaction replaying in your mind. “Oh, he acted like the world was ending. Said he didn’t need the mental image of his best friend and his brother being all ‘disgustingly cute.’”
“Classic Keeho,” Lara said, rolling her eyes.
As the spa day continued, the conversation flowed between light-hearted teasing and deeper check-ins about your feelings, your relationship, and the bittersweet end of summer looming over you. By the time you finished, your face was glowing, your nails freshly painted, and your heart a little lighter.
And as you sat there, basking in the warmth of your friendship, you realized that moments like these—filled with love and laughter—were the glue holding your world together.
Lara leaned back against the tub, her face mask now slightly cracked as it dried. She peeked at you with a smirk. “What do you think the boys are doing right now?”
You shrugged, swirling your fingers in the warm water of your foot soak. “Probably talking about sports or something equally boring.”
Lara snorted. “Knowing Keeho, he’s probably ranting about something dumb Yechan did. Those two are chaos when they’re together.”
You laughed, imagining the scene downstairs. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Keeho’s trying to lecture Yechan about me. He’s been feigning disgust since the moment he found out.”
Lara raised an eyebrow, grinning. “Oh, 100%. If we’re quiet, we might even hear it.”
Downstairs, Keeho was leaning back on the couch, arms crossed over his chest as he gave Yechan a pointed look. Intak sat beside him, amused but staying out of the conversation—for now.
“You’re disgusting,” Keeho declared dramatically, his face scrunched up like he’d just smelled something foul.
Yechan, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a bowl of chips in his lap, didn’t even flinch. He simply popped another chip into his mouth and grinned. “Why? Because your best friend prefers me to you?”
“That’s not even—” Keeho threw his hands up in frustration. “Gosh, Yechan, I don’t need to know what you two are up to in your room or anywhere else in this house!”
Intak burst out laughing, leaning forward. “Wait, what?”
Yechan leaned back casually, shooting a cocky look at Keeho. “Just letting her know how much I’m into her. Nothing major.”
Keeho groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Why do you say things like that? You’re ruining my life.”
“She started it,” Yechan said defensively, his grin never wavering. “Besides, aren’t you supposed to be happy for us? She’s your best friend, after all.”
Keeho peeked through his fingers, glaring at his younger brother. “I was happy. But now I’m haunted. Haunted, Yechan.”
Intak shook his head, laughing. “Keeho, you’re so dramatic. You’re lucky they’re even tolerating you in their lives.”
Keeho gestured wildly toward Yechan. “Tolerating him is the issue!”
Yechan shrugged, popping another chip into his mouth. “Sounds like a you problem.”
Keeho opened his mouth to retort, but Intak cut him off, grinning. “Alright, alright, let’s take bets. How long do we think it’ll take before Keeho accidentally walks in on you guys?”
Keeho froze, his face going pale. “Nope. Nope. That’s not happening. Not in my house.”
Yechan smirked, standing up and brushing chip crumbs off his hands. “We’ll see.”
With your faces glowing from masks and your nails painted a soft pastel, you and Lara leaned back against the bathroom wall, the spa supplies scattered around you. The lavender-scented candles flickered low as the afternoon sun streamed through the window.
“That was exactly what I needed,” Lara said, stretching her legs out. “Ten out of ten, would recommend.”
You nodded, admiring your freshly painted toes. “We should make this a weekly thing. Self-care is a necessity.”
Lara smirked and nudged you with her foot. “Speaking of self-care, how’s the girlfriend role? New territory, huh?”
You smiled shyly, fiddling with a loose thread on the towel draped over your lap. “It’s good. Really good, actually. I feel... safe with him, you know? Like, all the pining wasn’t for nothing.”
Lara hummed thoughtfully. “That’s sweet. But seriously, he better treat you like the queen you are. Otherwise, he’ll have me and Keeho to answer to.”
You laughed at the thought of Keeho trying to play the overprotective brother role. “Keeho’s more likely to send me back into Yechan’s arms just to avoid hearing me talk about it.”
Lara grinned, standing up and stretching. “True. Let’s go see what the guys are up to. If Keeho’s not ranting about something, I’ll be shocked.”
Keeho was pacing the living room, gesticulating wildly as Intak reclined on the couch, completely unbothered. Yechan sat cross-legged on the floor, snacking on a bag of pretzels with a smug look on his face.
“I just—ugh! Why can’t you guys be normal?” Keeho exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.
“Define normal,” Yechan said, tilting his head innocently.
“Not whatever this is!” Keeho shot back, glaring at his younger brother. “She’s my best friend and you’re my brother. There are rules against this kind of thing!”
Intak chuckled, tossing a pillow at Keeho to calm him down. “Relax, dude. They’re adults. Besides, it’s kind of cute, don’t you think?”
Keeho froze, staring at Intak like he’d just sprouted a second head. “Cute? CUTE? That’s my house you’re talking about!”
Yechan smirked, standing up and brushing crumbs off his shirt. “Don’t worry, hyung. We’ll make sure to keep it PG for your delicate sensibilities.”
Before Keeho could launch into another tirade, the sound of footsteps descending the stairs caught everyone’s attention.
You and Lara walked into the living room, immediately noticing the energy shift. Yechan’s gaze found yours instantly, his smirk softening into a fond smile. Without a word, he crossed the room and pulled you into a loose hug, tucking you against his side.
“Hey, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and warm.
“Hey,” you replied, tilting your head up to meet his eyes.
Lara and Intak exchanged a knowing look, both of them grinning like proud parents.
“Would you look at them?” Lara said, nudging Intak. “It’s like a rom-com in real life.”
“So cute,” Intak agreed, clasping his hands together in mock adoration.
Keeho groaned loudly, flopping onto the couch in defeat. “You’re all insufferable. Every single one of you.”
Yechan glanced over his shoulder, shooting Keeho a cheeky grin. “Love you too, bro.”
You laughed, pressing a quick kiss to Yechan’s cheek. “Thanks for tolerating us, Kee.”
Keeho covered his face with a pillow. “I regret introducing you two. I really do.”
The room filled with laughter, the kind of easy, warm sound that only came from people who genuinely cared for each other. Despite Keeho’s protests, it was clear he was happy for you both—even if he’d never admit it.
The late afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the beach as you sat near the water, chatting with Ethan. He was laid-back, as usual, leaning on his elbows in the sand and cracking jokes that had you laughing.
“You know,” Ethan said, grinning, “Yechan’s a lucky guy. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he should keep an eye on me.”
You chuckled, shaking your head. “He doesn’t have to worry. You’re not exactly my type, Ethan.”
“Ouch,” Ethan replied, clutching his chest in mock offense. “But fair. Still, can’t blame a guy for trying to make you laugh.”
Unbeknownst to you, Yechan had just arrived with his friends, his gaze locking onto you and Ethan immediately. The casual smile on his face faltered as he watched Ethan lean in closer, gesturing animatedly.
“Who’s that?” Sungil asked, nudging him.
“Ethan,” Yechan said curtly, already making his way across the sand.
You noticed Yechan before Ethan did, the stormy look in his eyes making your heart skip. He didn’t look angry—more annoyed, territorial even.
“Hey,” Yechan greeted, his voice calm but firm as he stopped next to you.
Ethan looked up, completely unfazed by Yechan’s presence. “Yo, Yechan. We were just talking about you. She’s been singing your praises, man.”
You gave Ethan a look that screamed not helping, but he just smirked, unbothered.
Yechan crossed his arms, his tone casual but laced with an edge. “Good to know. But I think we’re good here, Ethan”
Ethan raised his hands in surrender, getting to his feet. “Alright, alright. I’ll let you two have your moment. See you around.”
As Ethan walked off, you stood, brushing the sand off your legs. “What was that about?”
Yechan tilted his head, his gaze lingering on you. “I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”
“He wasn’t doing anything,” you said, biting back a smile. “Besides, I told him I’m with you.”
“That doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Yechan replied, stepping closer. His voice softened, but there was still a possessive edge. “You’re mine.”
His words sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could think twice, you grabbed his hand. “Come with me.”
The house was empty when you pulled Yechan inside, the distant sounds of the ocean fading as the door closed behind you. You led him to the living room, turning to face him with a raised eyebrow.
“Possessive much?” you teased, though your tone was playful.
Yechan didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he cupped your face, his touch gentle but insistent. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”
“Good,” you whispered, your heart racing.
The tension between you snapped like a taut string, and he kissed you, his lips capturing yours in a way that was both tender and desperate. You melted into him, his arms wrapping around you as if to prove his earlier point: you were his, and he wasn’t letting anyone forget it.
Yechan’s eyes darkened, his lips quirking into a smug smirk. “I think you need a reminder of who you belong to.”
Your breath caught, and though your heart raced, you raised an eyebrow, feigning nonchalance. “Maybe just a little one.”
That was all the encouragement he needed. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him as his lips claimed yours again. There was no hesitation, no shyness—only raw, simmering energy that built with every touch.
The kitchen was quiet save for the sound of your rapid breathing and the soft rustle of clothing. The counters became a makeshift barricade, your hands clutching the edge as Yechan’s kisses trailed along your jawline, your neck, and back to your lips.
“Yechan,” you murmured, your voice breathless.
“Shh,” he whispered against your skin. “Let me take care of you.”
Keeho and Intak walked in first, carrying bags of takeout, with Lara trailing behind. Keeho’s eyes narrowed immediately as he glanced between you and Yechan.
Yechan had you caged against the counter, his lips and hands leaving a trail of heat that made your knees weak. The moment was stolen, dangerous, and utterly addicting—until the sound of the front door swinging open shattered it.
“Hey, we’re—” Keeho’s voice cut off mid-sentence.
You and Yechan froze like guilty teenagers, hastily pulling apart as Keeho stepped into the kitchen with a bag of takeout in hand. His expression quickly shifted to one of pure disgust as his eyes darted between the two of you.
“Gross!” he exclaimed, setting the bag down with exaggerated care. “We eat in here, you animals!”
Yechan, completely unbothered, turned to Keeho with the faintest smirk. “Hm, what a coincidence…That’s exactly what I was trying to do.”
Your jaw dropped, and a gasp of mortified laughter escaped you as you swatted at his arm. “Yechan!”
Keeho groaned dramatically, covering his face. “I can’t believe I have to deal with this in my own house. You two are the worst.”
“We’re in love, Keeho,” Yechan teased, slinging an arm around your shoulders as you tried to shrink into the floor.
“Well, take your love somewhere that isn’t near the utensils!” Keeho snapped, grabbing the bag of takeout and stomping toward the dining room.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Yechan leaned down, whispering in your ear. “Totally worth it.”
You glared at him, but the traitorous smile tugging at your lips ruined the effect. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you love it,” he shot back, stealing a quick kiss before pulling you toward the dining room.
The dining room was alight with laughter and chatter, though Keeho couldn’t let go of what he’d walked in on earlier.
“You know,” he began, pointing a fork at Yechan, “there are so many rooms in this house. Why, oh why, did you think the kitchen was the place to—ugh, I can’t even finish the sentence.”
Yechan leaned back in his chair, utterly unbothered, as he popped a fry into his mouth. “It’s convenient. Close to snacks.”
Keeho nearly choked. “I hate you.”
You buried your face in your hands, trying not to laugh. “Can we please change the subject?”
“Oh, no,” Keeho said, shaking his head. “You don’t get to escape this. You’re just as guilty.”
“Guilty of being irresistible,” Yechan added cheekily, leaning over to nudge you.
You groaned, kicking him lightly under the table. “You’re not helping.”
“Not trying to,” Yechan replied with a wink.
Lara, seated across from you, was barely holding it together, her shoulders shaking with laughter. “This is the best dinner conversation I’ve had all week,” she managed to say.
“Glad you’re entertained,” you muttered, though you couldn’t hide the smile tugging at your lips.
Keeho dropped his fork dramatically, leaning back in his chair with a sigh. “I can’t believe my best friend and my brother are like this. It’s like watching a rom-com I never signed up for.”
Intak, who had been quietly enjoying his food, finally chimed in. “You’re just mad you’re not the star of the show, Keeho.”
“Exactly,” Yechan agreed, smirking. “Let us have our moment.”
Keeho glared at him, but there was no real heat behind it. “Fine. But I’m putting a lock on the kitchen door.”
Yechan was sprawled out on his bed, the glow of the evening sun painting the room in soft orange hues. The beach house was unusually quiet; Keeho and the others were outside finishing up a game of volleyball, and you had slipped away to shower after a long swim.
He glanced at his phone, debating whether to text you. It wasn’t like you weren’t already his, but there was something about the casual freedom of summer that made him crave you more—your laugh, your playful teasing, the way you’d sneak into his space like you belonged there.
The door creaked open slightly, and before he even looked, he knew it was you. You were freshly showered, towel on your head, wearing one of his hoodies that practically swallowed you whole.
“Baby,” he murmured, his voice low and slightly raspy. He reached for you, fingers curling in the air like a silent plea.
You raised an eyebrow at the tone but stepped closer anyway, a teasing smile playing on your lips. “Aww. Feeling needy, Yechan?”
“Always,” he admitted shamelessly, grabbing your hand and tugging you down onto the bed with him. “Come here.”
You landed with a soft thud, half-laughing, half-protesting. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you love it,” he said, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your neck
You sighed, the tension melting out of your body as you sank into his embrace. “I do,” you admitted, running your fingers through his hair. “But you’re lucky Keeho’s not around. He’d never let us live this down.”
Yechan smirked against your skin. “Let him try. You’re mine, baby.”
For a moment, the world outside ceased to exist, leaving just the two of you tangled up in the warmth of each other, a secret summer love that felt infinite.
The late afternoon sun filtered through the linen curtains, casting golden streaks across Yechan’s room. You were tucked under his arm, his hoodie draped loosely over you, and the sound of distant waves carried in through the open window.
Yechan hadn’t said much since you came in. His usual playful quips and teasing remarks were absent, replaced by quiet sighs and the steady rise and fall of his chest. You tilted your head to look up at him, noticing the way his gaze lingered on the ceiling, distant and contemplative.
“What’s on your mind?” you asked softly, breaking the silence.
He glanced down at you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You.”
“Smooth.” You nudged him lightly, but your teasing didn’t carry the usual bite.
“I mean it,” he murmured, his voice a little heavier than usual. “It’s just… This summer feels like it’s slipping through my fingers. And the thought of going back to my regular life without you there—it’s messing with me.”
You swallowed hard, his words hitting closer to home than you expected. You’d been trying not to think about the end of summer, about the inevitable distance that would separate you.
“I’m not going anywhere,” you said, lacing your fingers with his.
“I know,” he said quietly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “But it won’t be the same. I like this. Us, here. No Keeho hovering, no schedules, just… you and me.”
For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of his words settling in. The beach house had become a bubble, shielding your relationship from the real world, and you both knew it couldn’t last forever.
“Yechan,” you whispered, drawing his attention back to you. “This? It doesn’t end when summer does. We’ll figure it out.”
He exhaled deeply, as though your words offered him the reassurance he needed. “Promise?”
“Promise,” you said, sealing it with a soft kiss.
And as he pulled you closer, the two of you tangled together in the golden light, you knew that while the summer might be finite, what you shared was anything but.
The house felt quieter as the summer drew to a close, the days growing shorter and the looming reality of returning to college creeping in. Yechan was in his room packing when Gabby dropped by with a farewell gift for everyone—a framed group photo they’d taken on the beach.
“Knock, knock,” she called, stepping inside. Yechan glanced up and smiled faintly.
“Hey, Gabby.”
She handed him the frame, her expression soft. “For you. Something to remember us by until next time.”
“Thanks.” He set the frame carefully on his desk, letting his gaze linger on it. His friends were mid-laugh in the photo, and there you were—standing close to him, your smile as bright as the sun behind you.
Gabby plopped onto the edge of his bed, watching him carefully. “You’ve been quiet lately. Everything okay?”
Yechan sighed, sitting down next to her. “Yeah. Just… a lot on my mind.”
Gabby smirked knowingly. “Let me guess. It’s her, isn’t it?”
He didn’t respond right away, staring at the photo instead. “She’s going back with Keeho to their college. And I’ll be hours away.”
Gabby’s voice softened. “You’ll figure it out. If anyone can make it work, it’s you two. The way you look at her, Yechan… it’s like the rest of the world disappears.”
Yechan laughed lightly, shaking his head. “I didn’t think it’d hit me this hard. I guess I’m just not ready to say goodbye.”
“Then don’t,” Gabby said simply, nudging him. “It’s not goodbye—it’s just ‘see you later.’”
He gave her a small smile, his heart feeling slightly lighter. As Gabby left, he turned back to the frame and made a silent promise to himself. No matter how far apart you’d be, he wouldn’t let the distance come between you.
The evening was painted in hues of soft orange and lavender as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the water. You and Yechan had escaped the rest of the group after dinner, retreating to your favourite spot on the porch swing overlooking the beach. The air was warm, the sound of waves lapping at the shore providing the perfect soundtrack to your shared silence.
Yechan sat close, his arm draped casually over your shoulders, but there was a tension beneath his calm demeanour. He’d been quiet all day, his usual cheeky remarks replaced with thoughtful glances and soft smiles.
“I can’t believe summer’s over,” you said, breaking the silence.
“Yeah,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.
You turned to look at him, your heart clenching at the way his gaze lingered on you—like he was memorizing every detail. “Yechan,” you said softly, “what’s wrong?”
He hesitated, then reached for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. “I just… I don’t want this to end. Us.”
Your chest tightened at his confession, the vulnerability in his voice cutting through you. “It doesn’t have to,” you said, squeezing his hand. “We’ll figure it out.”
He leaned closer, resting his forehead against yours. “You make it sound so easy.”
“Because it is,” you whispered, your fingers brushing against his cheek. “I’m not letting you go, Yechan.”
His lips found yours in a kiss that was both tender and desperate, as if he was pouring every unsaid word and unspoken fear into it. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you beneath the starlit sky.
When you finally pulled away, his hands cradling your face, he smiled—a real, unguarded smile that lit up his entire face. “I love you,” he murmured, the words tumbling out like a promise.
“I love you too,” you replied, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you.
As the night stretched on, you stayed wrapped in each other’s arms, sharing whispered promises of late-night calls, spontaneous visits, and a love strong enough to withstand the distance. It wasn’t goodbye—it was just the start of a new chapter.
The final morning at the beach house came far too quickly. The air was filled with a bittersweet mix of nostalgia and anticipation for what lay ahead. Bags were packed, the house cleaned, and the group moved sluggishly, reluctant to say goodbye to the summer haven that had brought so many memories.
Keeho, Intak, and Lara were busy loading the car, chatting and laughing about the upcoming semester, while you lingered on the porch with Yechan.
“You’re really leaving, huh?” Yechan said softly, his gaze fixed on the horizon.
You, leaning against the railing beside him, turned your head to look at him. “You say that like I’m never coming back,” you teased, but there was a flicker of sadness in your eyes.
“It feels like it,” he murmured, finally meeting your gaze. “Opposite schools, opposite schedules… It’s not going to be easy.”
“Nothing worth it ever is,” you replied, taking his hand in yours. His thumb traced gentle circles on your skin, grounding you in the moment.
He let out a shaky laugh. “Why do you always have to say the perfect thing?”
“Because I mean it, Yechan” you said, stepping closer. “I know this summer wasn’t perfect, but I wouldn’t trade a second of it. And I’m not going to let a few miles stop me from being with you. I love you.”
The weight of your words stole his breath, and tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. “I love you too, baby.” He pulled you into a tight embrace, burying his face in your curls.
“We’ll make it work. I’ll call, text, visit every chance I get. You’re stuck with me, okay?” You promised.
“Okay,” he whispered, clinging to you.
A sharp whistle interrupted the moment, and you turned to see Keeho leaning out of the car window. “Hurry up, lovebirds! Some of us actually want to get back to school on time!”
Yechan rolled his eyes but didn’t let go of you. “He’s so dramatic,” he muttered.
“I think it runs in the family,” you teased, earning a chuckle.
With a final kiss, Yechan reluctantly pulled away. “Go. I’ll see you soon, right?”
“Right,” you said, your voice steadier now.
As you climbed into the car with the others, you glanced back to see Yechan standing on the porch, his hands shoved into his pockets, watching you leave. The car pulled away, and though the distance between you grew, the bond you’d built over the summer felt unbreakable.
A week later, as you settled back into college life, your phone buzzed with a message.
Yechan: Miss you so much already. Let’s plan a weekend soon. I’ve got some ideas.
You smiled, your heart fluttering as you typed back.
You: Miss you too. Just tell me when.
Long distance might not be easy, but for the first time in a long time, you felt certain it would be worth it.
The summer had been transformative, filled with memories that would carry you through the challenges of the months ahead. As the days turned into weeks, you and Yechan settled into a rhythm that kept the spark of your relationship alive.
Texts became your lifeline, filled with inside jokes, sweet nothings, and playful reminders of your time at the beach house. Video calls were reserved for late nights when the world felt quieter, and his voice became a soothing balm for the distance.
Your first weekend visit was everything you hoped for: stolen kisses, shared meals, and whispered plans for the future. It wasn’t the same as being together every day, but it was enough.
The beach house, once the setting of your secret summer romance, became a symbol of something bigger—a relationship built on trust, laughter, and a connection that refused to fade.
Keeho, though still occasionally annoyed by your PDA, eventually gave in to the inevitable. “As long as you two keep it out of the kitchen,” he’d grumble, but the fondness in his eyes betrayed him.
And as you walked across campus one crisp autumn day, your phone buzzed with a picture: Yechan standing on the beach, holding up a handwritten sign.
“Counting the days until we’re back here together.”
Smiling, you typed back a quick reply.
“Me too, Yechan. Me too.”
Because no matter where life took you, you knew that summer was only the beginning of your story.
: ̗̀➛ synopsis: you’ve trained with felix forever. but when the national showcase spot comes down to a match between you two, he refuses to spar. you can’t help but think he’s underestimating you.
pairing: ~11k words, taekwondo au, non-idol!felix x fem!reader, best friends 2 lovers
warnings: this fic deals with sensitive topics! fluff, angst, attack scene, violence + physical assault, mentions of blood + injury, profanity, mentions of sexism, first kiss and confession
smut warnings: descriptive sex scene, dirty talk, oral (fem! receiving), praise kink, soft dom!felix, inexperienced!reader, corruption kink, unprotected sex, creampie, no minors. pls consume responsibly 💌
you’ve known felix since before he could tie his own belt.
before he even had a belt, actually. back when his dobok was two sizes too big and he tripped over the pant legs during warm-ups. back when he had a baby lisp and freckles.
by the time you’d figured out how to break a board clean down the middle, he still hesitated before every stomp, wincing like the wood might fight back.
when you earned your yellow belts, you both bragged to anyone who would listen. even your moms, even though they were the ones sewing your name tags onto the belts the night before.
when you got your blue belt, he high-fived you so hard your palm stung. he was starting to get faster by then. taller, too. his kicks had rhythm, and his eyes stayed locked on his targets like he actually meant business.
by red belt, you were the unofficial captains of your respective brackets. everyone at the academy knew who you were—the dynamic duo, the two best students who never got to fight each other.
because boys and girls didn’t spar together. at least, not officially.
so instead, you cheered for each other from the sidelines. when he won, he looked for you first. when you won, he was already on his feet, hands cupped around his mouth, screaming your name like it was the final bell at the olympics.
and you love him.
you’re not sure when it happened, only that it did. somewhere between his first growth spurt and the day he started tying his belt without asking for help. somewhere in the million hours you’ve spent beside him, laughing at his jokes, rolling your eyes when he winked at you after a clean landing, pretending your heart wasn’t pounding.
but you’ve never dared to say anything.
because as close as you are, as easy as it is to be next to him, you don’t know if he’s ever looked at you and seen more than just you. his best friend. the girl that was like family to him.
and that was your normal.
after training hours, the gym was mostly empty, lights buzzing overhead. most students had gone home, lockers clanged shut. the floor was quiet, eerily so. you were toweling off, expecting to head out like always.
felix was beside you, lacing up his shoes. his locks were damp from sweat, sticking to his forehead, and his white t-shirt was clinging to his back where his chest protector had been. he looked just as exhausted as you felt, but in that floaty way he always did after training. meanwhile, your limbs felt like noodles, and your ankle still throbbed from that one unlucky pivot during drills.
“let’s get out of here,” you muttered, slinging your duffel over your shoulder. “my legs are literally going to give out in the middle of the crosswalk.”
felix glanced over with a tired smile. “want me to carry you?”
you rolled your eyes, bumping his arm lightly. “not unless you wanna get kicked in the shin.”
“guess you’ve still got some energy, then.”
you let out a breathy laugh. this was the part of the day you always looked forward to, just you and felix, winding down, teasing each other, walking home under streetlights like nothing outside the dojang existed. you’d already turned halfway toward the doors when you heard it:
“y/n. felix.”
your heads turned at the same time.
your coach stood at the edge of the mat, arms crossed, that sharp look on his face. the kind you and felix both knew too well. he always had it on when something serious was about to drop.
you straightened instinctively. felix rose from the bench, blinking in surprise.
“over here.”
you exchanged a quick look before stepping forward together. your body ached, and your brain was already half in the shower, but something about his tone snapped you back to focus.
felix followed without hesitation, shoes squeaking faintly on the polished floor. he stood just to your right, where he always stood.
the coach began. “the national showcase is restructuring this year. there’s a new format which means one representative per academy. one. that’s it.”
you blinked.
“it’s mixed gender. they’re making it a headline match. top student from each school, regardless of gender.”
you swallowed, hard.
“i’ve narrowed it down to you two,” he continued. “it’s obvious. you’re the strongest candidates.”
you didn’t mean to feel surprised—but you did. you’d always known you were good. competitive. consistent. but felix was… felix. stronger. faster. a cleaner record. everyone said it. you’d said it, even.
your coach glanced at you, his expression suddenly a little sharper, like he could read your thoughts.
“and before you start thinking it should automatically be him,” he added, “don’t.”
you blinked again.
“you’re both black belts,” he said simply. “both leaders in this academy. you’ve trained just as long. and frankly?” his eyes met yours. “it would be damn good for people to see a girl out there. especially at a showcase like this. i’ve seen how the crowd reacts. half of them still think this sport belongs to the boys. i’d like to shut them up.”
a flush crawled up your neck.
you felt your chest lift slightly, adrenaline rushing through your veins again despite the fatigue.
“so i need to see you spar,” he said.
your stomach dropped.
felix’s head turned toward him slowly. “sir…?”
the coach clarified. “doesn’t need to be long. maybe a few rounds. show me who’s sharper right now. whoever proves it gets the spot.”
you nodded, already adjusting your grip on your bag. “yes, sir.”
you were tired, sure, but this was the moment. you weren’t going to say no to this.
coach waved a hand. “get changed.”
you turned, already opening your bag when felix’s voice cut through the air:
“we’ve just had a long day.”
you stopped moving.
coach blinked. “what?”
felix didn’t raise his voice. he never did. but there was slight bite to his words. “we’ve been at it all evening. we’re not going to give our best right now. i think we should wait.”
you straightened slowly, hand frozen at the zipper.
“tomorrow, then?” coach asked, tone stiff.
there was a pause. too long of one.
felix’s throat worked. “i… don’t think that’s a good idea either.”
silence.
you turned your head toward him like you hadn’t heard him right. “you don’t want to spar for the spot? at all?”
the coach’s expression darkened. “this isn’t optional.”
“i know,” felix said quickly. “i’m not refusing training. i just… i’d rather not do this particular match.”
the coach stepped forward slightly, voice calm but commanding now. “is this personal, lee felix?”
felix bowed his head. “no, sir. it’s not.”
“then what is it?”
he hesitated. “i’m sorry.”
that was it.
no explanation. no excuse. no real answer.
the coach stared him down for a moment, visibly irritated now. “we don’t withhold effort when we’re tired. we don’t back out of challenges we’re prepared for. you know that.”
felix kept his head down. you gave felix a look—sharp. say something, your eyes seemed to ask.
but he didn’t. he stared at the floor like it might open up and swallow him.
coach let out a tight breath through his nose. “lee felix, i’ve never had to ask you twice. you’ve trained through sprains, migraines, stomach bugs—and now you’re telling me you can’t manage five minutes with the student who’s been your equal since day one?”
felix didn’t move.
your coach’s voice cooled. “maybe i should stop wasting time. if she’s ready, and you’re not, then maybe the decision’s already made.”
you straightened, taken aback.
he was serious.
your heart jumped—because the spot was right there, within reach.
but it felt… wrong. like someone handing you a gold medal after you’d tripped halfway through the race.
you took a step forward. “sir, i’d prefer if this was fair,” you said quietly, tightly. “i don’t want the slot just because he won’t step in. i’m willing to do the match right now.”
the coach looked between the two of you. “it’s no good if only one of you is. i’ll find another way to make the call.”
he turned and walked off, footsteps sharp on the mats.
you were left standing beside felix, still gripping your duffel, heart pounding—not from nerves, but from frustration. from how fast he’d shut it down. from the fact that he hadn’t even looked at you.
you turned to him. “what was that?”
he didn’t answer.
“felix.”
still nothing.
so you pushed him.
not hard—but enough to make his shoulder swing back. enough to demand a reaction.
“what the hell is going on with you?” you asked, voice low and furious. “you could’ve at least tried. you didn’t even try.”
his mouth opened, then closed. he looked away. and that’s when the edge of your anger faltered—just a little. because he looked off. not tired. not pissed. just… like something inside him had short-circuited.
“are you sick?” you asked, eyes narrowing. “did you pull something? what’s going on?”
he shook his head slowly. “no.”
“then what is it?” your voice dropped, a thread of confusion laced through your frustration now. “you never talk back to the coach. so why now?”
“i couldn’t make him do something i didn’t want to do,” felix said, voice low but steady.
you blinked, hard. “i thought you’d take it,” you went on, the words coming faster now, all the confusion folding in on itself. “haven’t we always talked about this? since we were kids? that one day we’d face off for real? no bracket rules, no holding back?”
silence.
“and now we get that chance, and suddenly you’re… what, backing out because you don’t feel like it?”
his head finally lifted.
and this time, when he met your gaze, there was something fractured in his eyes. something like guilt.
“that’s the problem,” he said.
you blinked. “what?”
he exhaled, like the words were fighting their way out.
“that’s the problem, y/n. i can’t go against you.”
your breath caught.
he didn’t say it like a choice. he said it like a confession. like it physically hurt to even consider it.
you blinked. “what—what do you mean you can’t?”
“i mean i can’t step onto that mat and treat you like—like just another opponent.”
you stared at him, stunned. “so… what, you think i’m too soft? too weak? you think you’ll hurt me?”
he went silent. just stood there, jaw tight, eyes unreadable.
that was louder than any answer he could’ve given you.
you stepped back, chest tightening.
you’d always known people would see you that way. you’d heard it from opponents. from judges. from random boys at tournaments who asked if you needed help tightening your gear.
but you never thought felix would be one of them.
never thought he would look at you and see someone he couldn’t even be bothered to fight.
your mouth was dry. you could feel the heat crawling up your neck, the burn behind your eyes rising faster than you could blink it away.
“i can’t believe you,” you said, quietly at first.
felix’s brows drew together. “y/n—”
“no.” you shook your head, backing up another step.
“i wasn’t trying to make you feel—”
“like what?” you snapped. “ like i’m only strong when i’m not standing across from you?”
he winced.
and for a second, you hated that it still hurt to see that look on his face.
you reached down, fingers trembling slightly as you picked up your duffel, slinging it over your shoulder with more force than necessary.
“well,” you said, voice tight. “i hope you have a great time at the showcase.”
felix blinked, eyes narrowing.
“coach is going to end up picking you anyway. let’s not pretend this is still a decision.” he opened his mouth, but you cut him off before he could say a word. “so thanks for at least giving me a chance,”
you turned on your heel, your shoes squeaking faintly on the mat.
“y/n—” he called, stepping after you. “wait—let me walk you home.”
you froze with your hand on the door. “right. because i can’t even handle the sidewalk alone now, right? because that’d be too dangerous for someone like me?”
“that’s not what i meant,” he said, quickly. “i just—”
“i’m fine, felix,” you bit out. “i’ve always been fine.”
you yanked the door open. it slammed against the wall with a heavy, echoing thud.
and then, without waiting for him to try again,
you walked out.
the door shut behind you with a hollow click.
the night air hit harder than you expected.
cooler than it was earlier. sharper, too.
you tightened your grip on your duffel strap and kept your head down, letting the fluorescent gym lights fade behind you. the quiet was jarring after hours of shouting, movement, sweat hitting the mats. now it was just your footsteps on concrete. just the sound of your breath, still not quite steady.
you walked fast. because you were mad.
mad at felix. mad at yourself. mad at the fact that you’d even thought today could end differently.
your ankle ached with each step, a dull throb from sparring earlier, but you didn’t slow down. you didn’t want to give yourself time to think. not yet.
the sidewalk curved near the intersection—past the convenience store, a shuttered nail salon, and a tiny karaoke bar squished between two office buildings. the place you’d passed a hundred times with felix. usually loud, full of students after school, music bleeding out through the door.
but tonight, it was nearly empty.
just one guy outside, leaning against the side wall with his hoodie pulled up, a cigarette dangling from his fingers.
you wouldn’t have looked twice, except—
he turned slightly when you passed. like he heard your footsteps and recognized them.
and then he said your name.
“y/n?”
you slowed instinctively, brows furrowing as you turned.
he looked familiar. familiar in the way a name itched at the back of your mind.
you squinted in the glow of the pink neon light overhead. “sorry, do i know—”
“minjae,” he said, giving you a small, unreadable smile. “you probably don’t remember me.”
but you did. sort of.
you’d seen him at the academy when you were younger. he was a bit bigger. older. one of those students who always kicked a little too hard. you didn’t know much about him—just that one day, he was gone.
no warning. no goodbye.
and no one talked about it.
you’d asked once, and someone said, “he had issues.” that was it. like the words were enough to shut the whole thing down. now he was standing three feet in front of you, hands in his pockets, watching you with a look that made your spine go stiff.
“didn’t think you’d be walking alone,” he said. “not after hours.”
“i’m not far,” you replied, trying to keep your voice casual. “i live close.”
he nodded like he already knew that.
“i can walk you,” he offered. “if that’s okay.”
you hesitated.
everything in your gut told you to say no. but something about the way he said it—like he expected you to agree, like he was giving you permission to feel safe—froze your voice in your throat.
“…sure,” you said. “if you want.”
you hated the way it sounded when it left your mouth.
he smiled again. the two of you fell into step. the night felt quieter than usual—like the world had ducked out early, leaving you behind.
“so you’re still with the academy?” he asked, his voice easy. too easy.
you nodded. “yeah. still training.”
“and felix?” he asked, his gaze flicking sideways.
you paused for half a breath. “he’s good.”
minjae hummed. “still coach’s favorite?”
you didn’t answer.
“thought so,” he muttered. “guess nothing’s changed.”
you tried to shift the conversation. “what about you? where do you train now?”
he didn’t answer right away.
then: “i don’t.”
you looked at him. “oh?”
“yea, your dojang was the last one i went to. i got kicked out,” he said. like he was proud of it.
your stomach tightened. you slowed slightly, just a step, but he matched your pace without missing a beat.
you forced a laugh. “really?”
“mhm. put some kid in a coma.”
your blood ran cold.
“he didn't tap out,” he said. “at least not fast enough. or maybe i couldn’t stop. it’s kind of a blur.”
you stopped walking.
he didn’t.
he took another slow step toward you, and when he noticed you’d fallen behind, he turned—still smiling.
“you didn’t hear that part, huh?” he said.
your legs felt rooted to the pavement, your breath shallow in your chest.
minjae tilted his head, hands still shoved casually in his hoodie pocket like you were just two old friends on a walk.
“i’ve seen you walk home, you know,” he murmured. “after training. you always think no one’s watching.”
your blood ran cold.
“but you’ve always got felix on your tail,” he added with a crooked grin.
your jaw clenched. “you’ve been watching us?”
he smiled wider. “not always. just… when it felt right.”
your fingers itched to move, to reach for your bag, your phone, something—but your feet still hadn’t moved. you didn’t want to provoke him. didn’t want to show fear. but your heart was thudding against your ribs so hard it felt like it might crack through.
“i mean, i get it,” he continued, ignoring you completely. “obviously, felix has to make sure no one gets too close, right? can’t have anyone messing up his little golden girl. not when he’s the only one who gets to keep you all polished up.” he mimicked the voice mockingly, then took another step toward you.
“i think you should back up,” you said, voice low but steady. at least, you hoped it sounded steady.
he let out a quiet laugh, like your warning actually amused him. then he took another step. and another. and before you could even fully shift your stance, his hand shot out and he slammed you back against the wall. your shoulder cracked hard against the brick, and before you could react, his hand came up, flat against your mouth.
it was fast. brutal.
the street behind you was quiet, the sidewalk barely lit. no one around. the alley between the buildings was narrow—tight enough that it felt like a trap. and he knew it.
panic flared sharp in your chest—but not enough to drown you.
because your body moved on instinct.
you brought your knee up hard, hitting groin, enough to make him grunt and lose balance for a second.
you twisted your wrist, yanking it free just enough to slip your hand up and drive your fist straight into the side of his face—knuckles connecting just beneath his eye.
he stumbled and swore.
you ducked, slipped out of the corner, and dropped your duffel bag in the same motion.
he came at you again.
no control. just pure aggression.
you blocked the first wild punch. dodged the second. landed a kick to his ribs—but he recovered too fast.
he lunged, grabbed the front of your jacket, and shoved you again. your head hit the wall this time,.
“bitch,” he spat, eyes dark, wild. “you think you can fight me? you think that fancy footwork means anything out here?”
you tried to move—tried to dodge—but he was heavier, and faster than you expected in that moment. all that training, all that discipline, and it still didn’t matter when someone was wild enough to throw everything out the window.
his other hand reached up, fumbling along the ledge just above your head.
you didn’t realize what he was grabbing for—until your eyes followed the motion.
there. a broken brick, half-buried in dust, tucked between chipped plaster and rusted railing. left behind from old construction.
his fingers curled around it.
and your blood ran cold.
you thrashed, feet scraping against the wall, heart slamming in your chest—but his arm reared back.
he swung.
and missed your head.
the brick slammed into your shoulder with a sickening sound, and your body jolted with the force of it. pain shot down your arm—sharp, white-hot, paralyzing for a second. you gasped, as you crumpled slightly, the impact stealing your breath.
debris rained down—bits of plaster and grit stinging your face.
“shit,” minjae muttered, stumbling slightly.
you barely had time to blink before his arm went up again.
but he didn’t get the chance.
because something ripped him off you.
he was yanked backward so hard, he stumbled—crashed into the opposite wall. and then fists.
fists everywhere.
not wild like minjae’s. not undisciplined. but brutal.
felix.
minjae tried to stagger upright, off-balance, swaying like alcohol was finally catching up. he barely got his hands up before felix spun—one fluid motion, clean and fast—and landed a roundhouse kick to the side of his face so hard it echoed down the alley.
minjae’s body dropped like dead weight—slammed to the pavement, dazed, bleeding, barely able to move.
but felix didn’t stop.
he grabbed the front of minjae’s hoodie, dragged him halfway up, and punched—a sickening thud of knuckles on bone.
“you’re mental,” felix spat, voice shaking with fury. “you’re absolutely fucking mental—what the hell is wrong with you?”
another hit.
“you psycho piece of shit—”
another.
minjae gasped something. a plea, maybe. slurred and broken. but felix didn’t hear it.
or maybe he did, and he didn’t care.
you pressed yourself against the wall, breath shallow, shoulder throbbing, the cold concrete biting into your back as the shock finally started to settle into your bones.
you’d never seen him like this.
you didn’t know anyone could look like this.
minjae was barely conscious now—his body limp in felix’s grip, blood dripping from his nose, lip split, one eye already swelling shut.
“felix,” you croaked.
he didn’t move.
“felix,” you said again, louder this time—your voice breaking.
still nothing. his jaw was locked, his body coiled, eyes wild and fixed on minjae like he hadn’t quite realized the fight was over.
you pressed your palm against the cold ground, tried to push yourself up, wincing as your shoulder flared with pain.
“lixie,” you shouted, panic rising in your chest now. “stop! you have to stop—he’s done, you’ll get in trouble—”
still no reaction.
so you did the only thing you could think of.
you reached up with your hand and yanked the back of his hood. hard.
felix spun around, eyes wild, breath ragged.
“what the fuck are you doing?” he barked. “you shouldn’t even be—don’t touch me right now,”
his hands twitched at his sides, fists still clenched.
you felt him shudder.
his eyes darted down, finally seeing you—really seeing you— the dust on your face, the way your arm was wrapped around your shoulder like it was the only thing keeping you upright.
and that’s when minjae started to crawl.
slow.
stumbling. bloody. but not unconscious.
felix moved like he was going to lunge again—but you caught his wrist.
“don’t.” you said softly.
you then looked at minjae dead in the eye—every nerve in your body on fire.
“leave,” you said. “now.”
his jaw clenched like he wanted to say something—wanted to blame, defend, spit—but nothing came out. just a nod. slow. he stumbled to his feet, swayed, and started limping down the alley without a word.
and he didn’t look back.
not once.
as soon as minjae disappeared around the corner, your body finally gave out.
the adrenaline drained like water from a cracked glass—fast, all at once. your knees buckled, and the sharp pulse in your shoulder flared violently.
felix moved faster than gravity.
he caught you before you hit the ground, arms wrapping around you like instinct. one arm cradled your back, the other held your good side carefully—like he was afraid if he touched too hard, you’d shatter.
“i’ve got you. you’re okay,” he murmured, breath still coming fast.
your head dropped to his shoulder, dizzy, lightheaded, but finally still. you could feel his heartbeat through his hoodie—racing, unsteady.
he opened his mouth to speak—
“stop,” you whispered.
his throat bobbed as he swallowed. “y/n—”
“no,” you said, weak but clear. “you’re gonna say ‘i told you so.’ you’re gonna say, ‘i told you not to come out here alone.’”
you felt his jaw shift where your forehead rested against him.
but he didn’t say that.
“i was so scared,” he murmured, voice barely above a breath. “i thought—” he broke off, his breath catching. “when i turned the corner, and i saw him over you—”
you felt his grip tighten, just slightly. not enough to hurt. just enough to make sure you felt it.
“i thought i was too late.”
you pulled back just enough to look at him, your cheek brushing his as you moved.
your voice was quieter now. “now you really think i’m weak.”
his eyes snapped to yours—wide, startled, like you’d just said the most backwards thing he’d ever heard.
“no,” he said immediately. “god—no.”
you looked away. “you saw what happened. you saw what i let him—”
“i know you fought,” he said, cutting you off, voice firm now.
he cupped your jaw gently, guiding your gaze back to him.
“i’ve never thought you were weak.”
you blinked, throat burning.
“not once.”
“then why—” you started, voice raw.
but you didn’t get to finish.
because felix leaned in and kissed you.
right there.
on the dirty, cracked pavement of an alley that still smelled like dust and blood and fear.
his lips crashed into yours with something desperate, something breaking—like he’d been holding it back for too long and couldn’t keep it down another second. it wasn’t perfect. it was messy and trembling and full of all the things he couldn’t say.
and for a second, you froze.
caught between pain and shock and the wild, spinning realization that he was kissing you.
then—
then you melted.
your fingers twisted into the front of his hoodie, and you kissed him back with everything you had left. because felix was holding you like you were something fragile and powerful all at once.
and for the first time all night, you didn’t feel broken.
you felt wanted.
felix pulled away first, barely—his forehead still pressed to yours, breath shallow, like he was scared the moment would vanish if he let it go too fast.
your eyes stayed closed for a second longer, lips parted, heartbeat still stuttering in your chest.
then you whispered, “come over.”
he blinked, just enough space between you now to see the confusion flicker in his eyes.
you swallowed. “to my place. so we can get cleaned up.”
you let out a shaky breath, and slowly, with his help, pushed yourself off the cold pavement.
the walk home was quiet.
your shoulder throbbed with every step, and felix stayed close the whole way, not touching you unless he had to, but always near.
by the time you reached your front door, your hands were shaking too much to get the key in on the first try. felix took it gently from your fingers and opened the door himself.
your family was away—out of town for the weekend—so the house was still, lights dim, the kind of hush that made every sound feel louder. you motioned toward your room and he nodded, heading down the hall while you slipped into the bathroom.
the adrenaline had long since worn off.
you changed into a loose cami top, careful with your movements, but still winced when the fabric brushed your shoulder. then you caught sight of it in the mirror.
a bruise, already darkening, was blooming across your skin—spreading like a storm cloud across your collarbone and creeping toward the edge of your chest. a band aid stuck on where the brick had torn through skin.
then turned off the light and walked back down the hall.
your room was quiet when you stepped in. felix was sitting on the edge of your bed, hoodie discarded, head in his hands. he looked up when he heard you—eyes flicking quickly to your shoulder, then back to your face.
and he looked like he’d just been punched again.
you crossed the room slowly and sat down beside him.
“i cleaned it up a bit,” you said, voice low. “disinfected it, but… i’ll go to a clinic in the morning. just to be safe.”
felix didn’t respond right away.
he was staring down at your hands now—resting in your lap, still faintly trembling. his own were curled together, clenched so tightly his bandaged knuckles had gone pale.
“felix,” you said gently.
still nothing.
so you turned to look at him fully.
his jaw was tight. his throat moved like he was trying to swallow words that wouldn’t go down. and his eyes were glossy, wide, swimming with something awful and barely contained.
you reached out, hand brushing lightly over his clenched fist.
“it’s okay,” you said softly. “it could’ve been much worse.”
his shoulders slumped at your words, like the weight of what didn’t happen was finally crashing down on him. he let out a shaky breath, and your heart ached just watching him unravel—still so tightly wound even in your room, even after everything. you leaned forward and kissed him again.
not desperate like in the alley. not rushed, not trembling.
just full of love.
his lips met yours like a reflex. his hand lifted slowly to your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek as he leaned into you, like he didn’t know how to stop once he started.
“i’ve wanted you,” he whispered against your lips. “for so long.”
you smiled into the kiss, brushing your nose against his. “me too, felix.”
you kissed him again, a little deeper this time, and he breathed out like he’d been holding it in for years.
“you deserve everything,” he murmured between kisses, his forehead pressed to yours. “every chance, every opportunity. you were always so strong, always learned so quick.”
you stilled.
the words landed quietly in your chest, like a gentle weight settling where doubt used to live.
“you’re not weak.” he added. “i just… i couldn’t go against you because…”
he swallowed, voice barely a breath now.
“if i saw you as an opponent… then maybe i could’ve done it,” he said. “maybe i could’ve stepped on that mat and said yes.”
he looked at you then—really looked. eyes shining with something that had nothing to do with tears now. something heavier. deeper.
“even if i saw you as a friend i could have done it. but i don’t see you that way, y/n.”
your heart beat once—loud.
his voice dropped, low and unguarded. “i see you, and all i can think is how badly i want to kiss you. how badly i want you to want me like that, too.”
his hand found your knee, tentative but deliberate, fingers curling slightly like he wasn’t sure how far you’d let him go.
“i want to kiss you ‘til you forget what it felt like to be scared,” he said. “i want to feel you underneath me, all of you, every part—because i’ve never wanted anyone like this. not once.”
your breath caught.
“i couldn’t do it, not because i think you’re incapable,” felix continued, his voice rough with something barely held back. “but because i love you.”
he didn’t flinch when he said it—didn’t stammer, didn’t hide. just looked at you like he’d already known it for years, and tonight had finally broken the last wall between knowing and saying.
your lips parted, but no sound came out.
so he kept going.
“i think i’ve been in love with you since we were fifteen,” he whispered. “and i just… kept hoping you’d figure it out first. because i didn’t want to lose what we had. i didn’t want to screw it up.”
you blinked hard. once. twice. the tears were already gathering. your throat felt tight.
“i didn’t know,” you said, voice cracking, small and trembling. “i mean—i think i did. i just didn’t want to ruin it either. i didn’t want to be wrong.”
felix exhaled—relieved, pained, everything at once.
“i love you too,” you said, barely above a whisper. “god, i think i always have.”
and then it broke.
you folded into him, and he caught you like gravity, arms wrapping around your waist, your hands finding his shirt, clutching at him like you couldn’t get close enough. you buried your face in his neck and tears spilled.
and he held you.
held you like you were something sacred.
like everything he’d ever wanted had been right in front of him all along.
you pulled back just enough to look at him, your eyes wet, your mouth trembling.
and then you whispered, “you can have me.”
felix didn’t speak. he didn’t need to.
his lips pressed to yours again. his hands cupped your face first then slid down, fingers brushing the curve of your neck like he was memorizing the shape of you.
your hands moved too. hesitant at first, but then bolder, threading through his hair. it was still damp in places, soft between your fingers. you tugged lightly, and he let out a breath against your mouth that was half a moan, half a surrender.
his tongue swept into your mouth and you gasped softly against his lips, body tightening instinctively at the heat curling low in your belly. you hadn’t expected it to be like this—every kiss landing like a jolt straight down your spine, your hips shifting without thinking, seeking friction that wasn’t there yet.
and he noticed.
he pulled back a little, breathing hard, lips pink and swollen, eyes searching yours. his gaze dropped—slow, deliberate—and lingered.
he looked at you like he was seeing you for the first time. not the uniform. not the sweat. not the bruises or the pain. just your body—loose cami thin against your chest, nipples stiffening beneath the fabric, your thighs bare where you’d changed into sleep shorts, your skin still marked faintly from the alley and the fight. and somehow, he looked at you like you were untouched. like you were the best thing he’d ever laid eyes on.
“you’re so beautiful,” he murmured.
your breath caught.
he touched the hem of your top gently, then looked up at you again. “have you ever done this before?”
you opened your mouth to speak—but no words came out at first.
instead, you shook your head once, slow. “not very much.”
you remembered his story. he’d hooked up with someone in his last year in highschool. you didn’t ask for details back then because it hadn’t been your business.
felix’s eyes stayed on yours, never darting away, even as his hand traced the hem of your cami, his fingers brushing just above your navel like he was testing how much of you he could touch without making you flinch.
“i’m gonna take care of you,” he whispered. “don’t worry.”
you nodded, breath shallow, chest rising fast beneath the thin fabric. the heat between your legs had returned tenfold, thick and pulsing, almost unbearable now that his mouth wasn’t on you. your thighs pressed together instinctively, trying to chase that pressure again.
felix noticed. he always noticed.
he leaned down and kissed you once—slowly, a kiss that lingered at the edges of your mouth like he didn’t want to leave any part of you untouched. his tongue slipped past your lips again, coaxing yours out with him, kissing you deeper until you whimpered against him.
his voice was barely audible. “can i take these off?”
he gestured to your shorts.
you nodded, heart pounding.
his hands were steady as he slid them down—past your hips, your thighs—until you lifted one leg, then the other, and they were gone. his eyes flicked up your body again, drinking in every inch. you could feel your pulse in your throat, in your wrists, between your legs—hot and wet now, your core aching with anticipation.
his breath warmed the skin of your inner thigh as he sank down between your legs, his broad palms gliding slowly up the outside of your thighs to your hips, then back down again, deliberate and steady like he was grounding you, like he wanted every nerve in your body humming in anticipation. you were down to just your panties now—thin, soft cotton clinging wet between your legs, the fabric nearly translucent in the low light.
felix settled between your knees, kneeling at the edge of the bed, shoulders tense, jaw tight with restraint. his hands curled around your thighs and gently pushed them wider, the mattress shifting beneath your hips as you let him spread you open. you bit your lip, your heart hammering. his eyes never left your body.
then he leaned in.
at first, it was just his breath against your core—hot and steady, making your thighs tremble. and then his nose nudged gently against the damp spot between your legs, his mouth still just hovering, teasing. he inhaled, a sound low in his throat.
“mmm.” his eyes fluttered shut for a second. “you’re soaked,”
his fingers slid up the inside of your thighs again, brushing the elastic edges of your panties, then tracing along the drenched fabric—one stroke, featherlight, straight over your slit. your back arched instinctively, a gasp catching in your throat.
felix looked up at you again, eyes dark.
“yes,” you breathed. “please.”
his fingers curled around the sides of your panties and began to pull them down—inch by inch, excruciatingly slow. the wet fabric peeled away from your heat, sticking slightly before slipping down your thighs. you lifted your hips to help him, and he slid them down past your knees, your calves, and finally let them fall to the floor.
and then he just stared.
like he’d never seen anything so beautiful in his life.
“fuck,” he whispered, blinking slowly, almost dazed. “look at you…”
you flushed under the weight of his gaze, instinctively starting to move your legs to close—but his hands came up immediately, pressing gently on your thighs to keep them open.
“no. let me see you,” he said, his voice low and thick. “you’re perfect. so fucking perfect.”
his fingers ghosted back up your thighs, then parted you gently, and his breath hitched again.
“you’re dripping,” he said, almost to himself.
and then he leaned in.
he kissed your pussy—lips plush against your folds, his tongue just barely tasting at first. you gasped at the contact, your hips jerking, thighs tensing under his hands—but he moaned in response, hands tightening just enough to keep you steady.
“oh my god, felix—”
he didn’t answer. he didn’t need to. his tongue dragged up from your entrance, slow and sure, then circled your clit in gentle, teasing flicks. your back arched hard, and your hand flew down to his hair again, gripping the strands tight. he moaned when you did it—like the taste of you and the feeling of your fingers pulling at his scalp were driving him insane.
felix’s tongue was still moving, slow and insistent, when he suddenly paused—pulling back just enough to lift his face from between your thighs, his mouth slick with your arousal, lips parted, chest rising fast.
“you okay?” he said, voice low and rough, almost hoarse.
the absence of his tongue made your whole body twitch, your hips instinctively lifting like you could pull him back by gravity alone. your fingers stayed tangled in his hair, breath catching as you blinked down at him, cheeks flushed and heart pounding.
“yes,” you whispered. “i’m good—i’m… so good.” your voice wavered slightly, thick with need, but the truth burned behind every word. “i’ve wanted this for so long, felix.”
his eyes lit up—hungry, molten, tender.
“yeah?” he murmured. “been thinking about me down here?”
you whimpered, thighs trying to close from the ache. he grinned.
then he dove back in.
no hesitation this time. he tilted his head, shaking it just slightly side to side as he pushed deeper—his nose pressing tight against your mound, his tongue flat and wide as he licked straight up through your folds, deep and slow and relentless.
“ah, fuck—!” you cried out, hips lifting again.
and then—he pushed his tongue in.
he fucked you with it, wet and slow, making obscene, soaked sounds as your pussy clenched around nothing but his mouth. the tip of his tongue flexed as he pushed in again and again, steady, deliberate, your breath breaking on every push.
“felix—”
he groaned in response, and the sound vibrated through your whole core. his grip on your thighs tightened, holding you wide and open while his face stayed buried in your cunt, his jaw slick, tongue working like he was obsessed with the way you tasted, the way you moved, the way you shook every time he stroked just right.
he pulled out, licking a long, slow path all the way up your slit.
when he reached your clit, he swirled his tongue in perfect circles—each one just slightly firmer than the last. your fingers yanked his hair hard again, but he only hummed and pressed deeper.
he latched onto your clit again and sucked.
your entire body bowed off the bed with the force of it. his tongue flicked beneath the suction, hot and wet and insistent, your entire world collapsing to the point of contact between his mouth and your pulsing clit.
and he didn’t stop.
he moaned into your pussy, deep and guttural, the sound vibrating through every inch of you as he kept sucking, kept devouring, his tongue flicking in tight, practiced strokes. you could barely breathe, your hips rolling against his mouth, thighs trembling so hard you thought you might snap in half.
then he did it again—shook his head side to side, slow at first, then deeper, rougher, like he was trying to burrow into you, nuzzling against your pussy with pressure. your voice cracked open while your vision blurred.
that knot you knew too well from your own fingers under the covers, from those nights spent grinding into your palm with the lights off and felix’s name buried in your throat—was back. but this time, it wasn’t your imagination. it wasn’t your hand. it was him. his tongue. his mouth. his everything.
and it was so much better.
the feeling was sharp, coiled, rising fast. you gasped, moaned, writhed under him, the sweat slicking your chest, your hands sliding from the sheets back into his hair again, anchoring yourself to him like he was the only thing keeping you grounded.
“felix—” you panted, voice breaking, hips arching, “i'm gonna— i'm so close—”
so he didn’t speak. he didn’t risk it.
because if he said a word, if he so much as whispered your name, you’d lose it completely. and he wanted to guide you through it. wanted to feel you come undone beneath him.
so he just stayed right there, face buried in your cunt, lips suctioned around your clit with steady, maddening precision, tongue flicking faster now in that exact rhythm that had your whole body twitching. his hands gripped your thighs tight, grounding you, holding you open, thumbs brushing your skin in strokes—soothing in contrast to the ferocity of his mouth.
you sobbed—high, strangled.
your fingers clutched his hair like a lifeline, but you didn’t pull. you couldn’t. you were too far gone. your eyes rolled back as your vision blurred and your back arched, heels digging into the mattress, body drawing taut like a bow.
he felt it.
felt you tighten. felt your cunt pulse.
your orgasm ripped through you like fire.
you convulsed under him, crying out loud and broken, your body seizing in wave after wave of climax that felt like it would never end.
he guided you through it and stayed steady. his hands never let go. his tongue never missed a beat. and when your cries turned to gasping whimpers, when the shudders slowed, when your limbs finally collapsed back into the mattress, trembling and spent—
only then did he lift his head.
his lips were swollen, slick with you, chin wet, cheeks flushed. he looked at you like he’d just seen something holy. his eyes met yours.
your chest was still rising in quick, shallow breaths, your whole body humming with the echoes of release. muscles twitching, skin flushed, your legs limp where they’d once locked around his head. you felt wrecked—completely, thoroughly undone.
but when he leaned back in—his tongue sliding gently over your folds again, licking up the mess he’d made—you gasped, hips flinching. it was too much. the heat, the slick softness of his mouth against your overstimulated clit. your fingers twitched on the sheets, not from want but sheer sensitivity. and still, you didn’t tell him to stop. you whimpered instead, high and breathless, body twitching as he licked you clean.
you whimpered again when his tongue passed over your clit—just a brush this time, a flick more tease than touch.
you looked up at him through your lashes when he came back up to your level. he was gorgeous like this—his face flushed, his hair mussed where your hands had tangled in it, his mouth swollen.
“you were so good,” he said in awe. “so good for me.”
your cheeks burned at the praise. your body ached. but underneath the exhaustion, something else was burning now.
because you wanted more.
you wanted him.
you bit your lip, your voice barely a whisper. “felix…”
his brow furrowed gently, and he dipped lower, brushing his nose against yours. “yeah?”
you swallowed. your legs shifted beneath him, and the motion dragged your thigh against something hard.
oh.
he was hard—so hard, so ready, the press of him against your hip hot and solid and impossible to ignore.
and you wanted it. desperately.
“i want you,” you breathed.
his eyes darkened instantly. his jaw clenched. “yeah?”
you nodded, slow and steady, heart pounding all over again. “i want you inside of me.”
he exhaled like he’d been holding it in for hours. his hips rocked against you once—barely controlled—and you felt the full length of him, thick and pulsing, pressed against your thigh through his boxers.
“you sure?” he asked, voice husky.
“i’m sure,” you whispered. “i want it. i want you.”
he leaned in and kissed you again—slower this time, more grounded, but still with that same edge of hunger curling just beneath the surface. his lips moved against yours like he already knew what came next. like he was already imagining it.
felix pulled back just slightly, just enough to see you fully, his eyes scanning your face like he was checking every breath, every signal, every heartbeat.
“you can do it.” he murmured,
but then you followed his gaze—down to where his hips hovered just above yours, the hard line of him straining visibly against the fabric of his sweatpants, the tip already darkening the cotton with pre-come.
your mouth parted. and slowly—your hands moved.
he didn't flinch when your fingers found the waistband of his sweats, didn’t stop you when you pushed them down inch by inch, the elastic dragging low over his hips, revealing skin, then more, then—
you swallowed hard.
his cock sprang free the second you tugged his boxers past his thighs. thick. hard. long and flushed and glistening at the tip. he was perfect—desperately hard and twitching in your palm before you’d even touched him properly.
you looked up at him once, silently asking.
he nodded, jaw locked, chest rising.
so you wrapped your hand around him.
he shuddered the moment your fingers closed around his shaft—his whole body jolting like he’d been electrocuted, breath catching sharp in his chest.
then—like he was pulling himself out of a trance—he shifted, reaching one hand blindly toward the floor, fingers groping for the edge of his jacket. he pulled it closer, found something in the zipper pocket—a small foil packet.
you stopped him.
your hand curled around his wrist, gentle.
“it’s okay,” you said softly.
his eyes locked on yours. “y/n—”
“i’m on the pill,” you murmured. “i trust you.”
his lips parted. for a second, he didn’t speak—just stared at you like you’d said something sacred. something that made his whole body go still.
and then he dropped the packet to the floor.
he hovered over you, breath hot and trembling against your lips, one arm braced beside your head while the other reached down, steadying himself. but he paused, just barely, the tip of his cock resting against your soaked entrance, heat pulsing between your bodies like a current too charged to touch.
his eyes locked on yours again—wild, tender, reverent.
“are you sure?” he asked, voice low and hoarse, like asking cost him.
you nodded.
slow. certain.
your hand rose to cup his jaw, thumb brushing his flushed cheekbone. “i’ve never been more sure.”
he inhaled sharply—and let it out in a broken moan. not quiet. not restrained. just raw, honest sound spilling from somewhere deep inside him.
“okay,” he breathed. “okay. then you go for it, baby.”
his head dropped for a second, forehead pressing to yours, his whole body shaking with the force of trying to hold back. you felt him twitch against your entrance, the thick head of his cock nudging just slightly into your folds, dragging through your wetness.
you blinked up at him, dazed. “what?”
he pulled back just slightly, his hand guiding himself again, lining up with your pussy, the swollen head pressing flush against your entrance. and then he looked you dead in the eyes.
“you take me,” he said. “however slow you need. however deep you want. you do it.”
and he meant it. his voice didn’t shake this time. his gaze didn’t falter. he wanted you to be in control. even now—especially now.
so you reached down with one trembling hand and wrapped your fingers around his cock again, guiding him back down between your thighs. you could feel the heat of him, the size of him—heavy and thick and so fucking real.
your breath caught as you positioned him, the head of his cock pressing right against your entrance now.
he moaned again—guttural this time, a sound pulled from deep in his chest.
“god, you feel so warm already,”
you pushed your hips up, slow, and felt him begin to breach you.
just the tip.
the stretch burned.
sharp, but not unbearable. not when he was watching you like that—eyes wide, lips parted, chest heaving like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
you gasped, and he stilled.
“you good?” he whispered.
you nodded—bit your lip, adjusted, let yourself breathe.
then you did it again. this time he met you halfway
pushed up another inch. took more of him.
and he groaned—low and long, head dropping to your shoulder as his arms tensed beside you.
“oh my goodness, y/n—”
you were so wet, so tight, every inch of him dragging against nerves you hadn’t known could feel like this. the pressure was intense, dizzying, your body opening inch by inch to take him in.
and he let you do it.
let you set the pace.
let you guide him in, until you were gasping and whimpering and his cock was buried almost halfway, throbbing and hot, your walls pulsing around him like your body didn’t know how to handle it all.
“you’re doing so good,” he breathed, kissing your cheek, your jaw, your temple. “so fucking good—keep going, baby, if you can.”
you braced your hands against his shoulders, breath shallow, thighs trembling. the last stretch was the hardest—your body pulsing around the thick base of him, nerves lit up everywhere, tight and aching, every part of you drawn taut with the strain of holding him there.
but you wanted this. all of it.
you shifted your hips, exhaling slowly as you pushed upward—one more inch. then another. until he bottomed out.
he was buried to the hilt now, thick and hot and pulsing inside your cunt, your walls stretched around him so tight he could barely breathe. his hands trembled where they gripped your waist, holding himself still—barely—like one more twitch would break the world in half.
“y/n,” he choked out, voice guttural. “you’re so tight, baby, so tight—i can barely—” he bit down on the inside of his cheek, jaw clenched like a vice.
your fingers flexed against his back, and you nodded, panting through the ache, through the pressure. “it’s okay,” you whispered. “you can move. please—move.”
his eyes snapped open. he searched your face, breath still ragged, and nodded slowly.
then he pulled out—just an inch, then another—and pushed back in.
the drag of him inside you, even that small motion, lit your body up from the inside. the friction was perfect. unrelenting. he filled every inch, stretched you to your limit, and your pussy clung to him like your body didn’t want to let go.
felix whispered. “i can slow down.”
he pulled out again, just enough to make you feel empty, then slid back in deeper. you cried out, clinging to him now, hips tilting up to meet him, chasing it.
“faster, you can go faster,” you gasped.
he obeyed.
his pace quickened, still careful but less restrained now—his cock thrusting into you with a slick, wet rhythm, your soaked pussy gripping him like a vice with every motion. the room echoed with the sound of your bodies—flesh on flesh, breathless cries, the obscene, soaking drag of his cock through your tight cunt.
“fuck,” he growled. “this pussy is taking me so good, like it was made for me.”
your head tipped back, a fresh moan spilling from your lips. “it was—”
his hips stuttered.
something flickered across his face then—darker, hungrier.
“you don’t even know what you do to me,” he murmured. “you think i haven’t thought about this? all those nights jerking off with your name in my throat.”
you whimpered.
he leaned over you more fully, chest brushing your breasts, one hand sliding up to cradle your face while he kept thrusting into you—slow now, deeper, grinding into you with each roll of his hips.
“you’re letting me ruin you,” he whispered. “god, you’re so wet for it.”
you moaned—high, trembling, helpless. “i love you—”
his rhythm faltered, but only for a second.
“say it again,” he demanded, voice thick.
“i love you,” you sobbed, clinging to him as your body started to coil again, pressure building low and hot and desperate. “i love you, felix, please don’t stop—”
he didn’t.
he fucked you harder now—not rough—but deep, fast, each thrust grinding right into your tightest spot, your pussy clenching around him like you couldn’t bear to let go. he shifted his angle slightly, driving into you from just a little lower, and your whole body jerked.
your breath tore out of you. "felix—!"
this wasn’t the soft spread of orgasm he’d coaxed out with his mouth. this was different. sharper. hotter. it burned from the inside out, like he was hammering that sweet bundle of nerves over and over again, your orgasm uncoiling too fast.
and he saw it.
he felt it.
his hand dropped between you, fingers finding your clit with practiced ease, two slick digits rubbing tight little circles as he thrust deep, dragging your soaked pussy right against his knuckles every time.
“give it to me, y/n,” he growled, voice raw and low in your ear. “come on. i know that look—you’re right there. like when you break that last board—focus. let go. fucking give it to me.”
you couldn’t hold back.
it slammed into you—fast, sharp, blinding—your entire body locking, then releasing, the pleasure exploding out of you with a cry that tore your throat raw.
your orgasm ripped through your pelvis.
a hot gush of slick pulsed out of you, soaking his cock, his fingers, the sheets beneath you. you cried out, shaking violently, back arching off the bed, vision going white as your body convulsed through it.
felix choked on a groan, grinding his hips deep into your trembling pussy as he held you there, watching it happen, feeling you squirt on him.
“fuck, baby—oh my god—”
he didn’t stop moving, didn’t stop working your clit, didn’t stop fucking that spot, chasing every last drop of that orgasm.
your breath was ragged, your voice barely there, but the words came anyway—raw, open, needy.
“come inside me, felix,” you whispered, your nails dragging lightly down his back. “i want to feel it. i want all of you.”
he growled—actually growled—a sound ripped from deep in his chest, something dark and unfiltered and desperate.
“you want my cum, baby?” he panted, hand sliding down to grip your thigh, holding you wide open beneath him. “you want me to ruin you for everyone else?”
“yes,” you gasped. “yes, felix, please—do it, come inside me—”
that broke him.
he fucked into you hard—once, twice, three more brutal strokes—and then froze, every muscle in his body locking as he buried himself to the base.
he groaned loud into your neck and you felt it.
felt the heat flood inside you, pulse after pulse of release spilling into your still-clenching pussy. he rocked through it, hips twitching, groaning your name as he filled you completely, your slick and his cum mixing deep inside you, dripping between your thighs.
he stayed like that, chest heaving, cock twitching, holding you close as the last waves of it ran through him.
you lay there, breath shallow and scattered, limbs trembling beneath the weight of everything. you felt him still buried inside you, twitching gently, his length softening but still locked within your body like he couldn’t bear to leave just yet.
you were dazed.
and when you blinked up at him—his hair sweat-damp and wild, his chest rising fast, his eyes fixed on you like you were everything—he smiled, slow and aching.
“my girl,” he whispered, voice rough. he pressed a kiss to your cheek, then your temple. your heart thudded.
and when he leaned back just enough to see your face, brushing a thumb down your jaw. “i love you.”
the words cracked something wide open in you.
you reached up, threading your fingers into his hair, pulling him back down into a kiss—lips barely moving because you didn’t have the strength to make it anything more. but it said enough.
you pulled back, breath caught, eyes wide and glassy.
“i love you too, felix.” you touched his cheek. “stay over?”
his answer came without hesitation.
he nodded.
then pressed another kiss to your lips—brief, tender—before slowly, carefully pulling out. you winced slightly, and he soothed you immediately, whispering quiet things under his breath.
“sorry, baby, i got you, just relax.”
you felt him drip out of you and you shivered at the sensation, more from how intimate it felt than anything else.
felix padded to your bathroom and when he came back, he was gently kneeling beside the bed and wiping between your legs.
he kissed your knee, then slipped out quietly. you heard the bath running. when he returned, he lifted you gently from the bed, carrying you into the bathroom. later, he curled into bed beside you.
arms around your waist. breath on your neck.
the world faded.
only him. only you.
you were breathing hard—sweat dripping down your temple, your pulse pounding in your ears, muscles burning from effort. the match had dragged longer than expected. every counter was faster, every feint smarter. your opponent wasn’t backing down.
and neither were you.
a front kick met your side—hard but clean. you spun with it, dropping into a low stance to recover, your feet sliding against the mat. a beat passed. then another.
your opponent came at you again. you blocked, pivoted, struck out with a side kick, but he ducked low and swept your leg—not enough to knock you down, just enough to unbalance. you hissed through your teeth and shot forward, aiming a punch straight toward his ribs.
suddenly, he shifted left.
and his arm hit your good shoulder.
your breath caught as you staggered back half a step.
and that’s when he moved in.
one clean motion. a grappling combo you’d seen before—but rarely felt like this.
your opponent took you down.
and suddenly, the world tilted. you were flat on your back, shoulders pinned, your breath knocked clean out of your chest.
you stayed still for half a second, blinking up at them, the lights glaring in your peripheral.
then you tapped out. quick, three times.
the pressure eased immediately.
he rolled off with practiced ease and leaned over, hand rubbing your back softly.
“good match,” he murmured.
you pushed up slowly, breath still shallow, shoulder aching just a bit where the blow had landed. but you couldn’t help the half-smile that pulled at your lips.
coach stepped forward from the sideline. “nice takedown, felix.”
you huffed a short laugh. “finally,” you muttered, shooting felix a sideways look.
he grinned sheepishly, cheeks pink. his hair was soaked, plastered to his forehead, and his uniform clung to his back with sweat. but his eyes were sparkling.
coach added, “that’s the only one you’ve taken so far.”
felix scratched the back of his neck. “yeah, well. i’m pacing myself.”
you chuckled and reached out, smacking his arm lightly. “i let you have that one.”
he caught your hand before it dropped, squeezed it once.
then let it go.
the coach stepped forward, arms crossed over his chest, gaze unreadable as it flicked between the two of you.
you both turned toward him, sweat still clinging to your necks, uniforms rumpled and streaked with dust from the mats. you and felix both reached up and took off your helmets.
the coach paused for a beat. then:
“i’ve made my decision.”
your heart jumped into your throat. felix straightened beside you, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead.
the coach looked at you. “y/n.”
there was a pause.
“sir…?”
coach nodded. “you’ve been consistent. adaptable. fast. you held your ground every time. you’ve proved yourself.”
“i was holding back in the others,” felix said quickly. “can we have one more match?”
the coach didn’t soften. “you gave your best in that last one. and so did she. decision’s final.”
felix didn’t argue. just stood there, chest rising, then falling, as something in him settled.
he turned to you.
you were still staring at him with a worried expression. but he smiled.
small. honest.
“i’m not gonna lie and say i’m not crushed,” he said, laughing under his breath. “because i am.”
your lips curled into a smile.
“but,” he added, eyes locked on yours, “i’m also really fucking proud of you.”
your throat was tight, but the smile pulled at your face anyway, a little shaky. you turned to the coach and bowed.
“thank you, sir. really.”
coach gave a short nod, then glanced down at his clipboard. but not before you caught the faintest curve of a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
you turned back to felix and threw your arms around his neck without thinking. his hands came around your waist instantly before he lifted you.
your feet left the mat, your arms tightening in surprise as a small yelp escaped your lips. “felix!”
he laughed, that full-throated, breathless sound you hadn’t heard since you were kids.
as felix set you down, you caught it.
the coach.
still watching.
his eyes flicked from you to felix, then back again.
you furrowed your brows. “what?”
“nothing,” coach said, too quickly, a smile tugging at his lips. “just… you two make a good team.”
your eyes narrowed. “no, what was that look?”
“look?” he repeated, feigning innocence like a man who definitely was not innocent.
you glanced at felix. he was already biting the inside of his cheek, trying not to laugh, failing miserably. his ears were turning pink.
you turned back to the coach. “sir—”
“good work today,” he said, backing off. “see you both tomorrow.”
and he disappeared into his office, closing the door behind him.
you stared after him, then slowly turned to felix.
you groaned into your hands. “god.”
felix laughed, gently peeling your hands away from your face as his eyes flicked past you for half a second. a little group of junior belts was trailing through the far hallway, chattering and bouncing off the walls like they’d just mainlined sugar.
he looked back at you, mischief blooming across his face. his hand still held yours.
and then—without warning—he kissed you.
right there in the middle of the mats, with the scent of floor cleaner and sweat still in the air and your chest protector half-hanging off your side.
your eyes widened.
you made an undignified squeak into his mouth and instantly melted against him.
then you grabbed his hand.
felix barely had time to register it before you were tugging him down the hall, past the main mat, into one of the empty practice rooms. the second the door shut behind you—
click.
he had you against the wall.
your belt hit the floor.
and there was nothing gentle about the way you kissed each other this time.
Lee Know discovered that your growing relationship brings new ways to kill you.
You’d think that after nearly five years of dating, you’d be used to Minho’s teasing.
But no. Not this.
It started about three weeks ago. Maybe four. At first, you thought it was a coincidence – bad luck, really. A misstep in your own wild imagination.
The first time he knelt down in front of you, you stopped breathing for full three seconds.
You were leaving a café, chatting absentmindedly, when Minho stopped mid-step. You turned to ask what was wrong, but before you could say anything, he was already crouched down in front of you and began tying your shoelace with the casual charm of someone who knew exactly what he was doing.
“Tie your shoe, dummy,” he said nonchalantly, his fingers looping the laces into a cute little bow.
And maybe it was the soft golden hour glow catching his features just right, or maybe it was the fact that he was kneeling – one knee on the pavement, his gaze flicking up at you with a smirk – but your heart did a somersault.
You laughed it off. Pretended your heart wasn’t in your throat. “You scared me for a second,” you muttered.
Minho only raised a brow. “Scared you? Why?”
You didn’t answer.
-----
Since then, he’d made a habit out of it.
When his cat Doongie strutted across the room, he dropped beside the little creature to pet him conveniently close to you – his shoulder brushing your leg, face tilted upward with a suspiciously innocent grin.
You narrowed your eyes while he only blinked, infuriatingly innocent.
“What? I can’t pet my cat now?”
You turned to the side, cheeks burning. Behind you, you swore you heard him chuckle.
Or when you were cooking together and dropped a spoon? He’d duck down dramatically to grab it, pausing for a moment like he was savoring your reaction.
Or when he accidentally dropped his keys at the door? He’d take unnecessarily long to pick them up.
It was like that. Every. Single. Time.
And every time, your heart leapt. Your breath caught. Your brain whispered, Is this it? followed quickly by, Calm down, don’t be ridiculous.
You tried to play it cool, of course. Tried to scoff or roll your eyes, but the way Minho’s lips curled every time – teasing, smug – said it all.
He knew. He absolutely knew what he was doing to you.
-----
Tonight, you were curled on the couch, scrolling aimlessly on your phone while Minho fed the cats. It was quiet. Domestic. Safe. Comfortably uneventful.
Until he turned.
And knelt.
Right in front of the coffee table, facing you, pretending to clean up a stray piece of kibble.
You tensed instantly. Your fingers twitched. Your pulse thrummed in your ears.
“Minho,” you said, tone dangerously flat.
He didn’t even look up. “Hm?”
“That’s the fourth time this week.”
“What is?” he asked, still crouched.
“You know what.” You narrowed your eyes. “Don’t play dumb.”
He blinked up at you, bottom lip twitching like he was holding back a smile. “Are you accusing me of… bending my knees too much?”
You groaned. “Yes! No—yes. You’re doing this on purpose.”
He rose slowly, his eyes locked on yours, a slow smirk spreading across his face. “Doing what, exactly?”
You pointed an accusatory finger. “That. Kneeling. In front of me. Repeatedly. Like it’s nothing. Like you don’t know what that does to me.”
“Hmm.” He tilted his head, mock-thoughtful as he caressed your hip with his thumb. “You mean how your eyes go wide and you look like you’re about to black out?”
You picked up a pillow and hurled it at him. He caught it midair and laughed – actually laughed, throwing his head back like he was the funniest person alive.
“You’re evil,” you muttered, cheeks warm.
Minho steped to the side, casually placing the pillow back on the couch. “You’re cute when you get flustered.”
“I hate you.”
“Mm, you love me.” He dropped a kiss to your forehead, lips lingering for a second longer than usual.
You exhaled, trying not to lean into it too much. “So you admit you’re doing it on purpose?”
“I didn’t say that,” he teased, nuzzling against your temple.
You pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes. “You know, if you tease me too much, I might just beat you to it. See how you'd look then.”
“Beat me to what?”
You raised an eyebrow. “You know. Pop the question. Just to mess with you.”
Minho froze for half a second – a blink, a twitch of surprise. “You wouldn’t.”
You shrugged, feigning indifference. “Keep teasing and find out.”
He chuckled, amused. “You’re bluffing.”
You grinned. “Am I?”
“You are.”
“Probably.” You leaned back against the couch. “But don’t test me.”
He was still smiling as he sat beside you, arm sliding around your shoulders. “Don’t worry. I’ve got it covered.”
You turned to him. “Then why the mind games tho? Other than, you know, being a menace?” You narrowed your eyes slightly. “You know that I could just say 'no'…”
Minho scoffed, eyes narrowing offended. “That would be your deflect – I won't ask a second time.”
He paused. Something shifted in his expression.
“But,” he said, softer now, “when I do ask... I want you to know it’s real.”
“I want you to know I’ve been thinking about it,” he continued, his voice lower now, more vulnerable. “For some time, actually. Not just for fun. Not just to tease. When it’s real, I want you to know.”
You swallowed. “Minho…”
He smiled then, soft and sure. “No rush. Just… don’t be too mad if I keep doing it until then.”
You were quiet for a beat, then muttered, “Oh, I will be. You know I’m still going to have a heart attack every time?”
“I know,” he said smugly, pulling you in a hug before you could assault him. “And it’s adorable.”
summary: going down on intak headcanons, inspired by his line “taste it mmh, how was it mmh” in secret sauce
cw: dom!intak, oral (m receiving), head-pushing, deepthroating, mentions of choking and gagging, cum play/eating, finger sucking, pet names (angel, sweet girl, baby)
a/n: this is one of the sound loops that plays in my head when i’m idle… the lyric matched with the thrusting choreo he does… yeah i’m so over. p.s. thank you sm for all the love on my page so far ♡
dom!intak who’s obsessed with the feeling of your mouth around his cock, your big eyes blinking up at him through your eyelashes while your mouth is full of him. he loves seeing you on your knees in front of him, so obedient and willing to make him feel good. caresses your cheek and helps hold your hair out of the way while you go down on him. loves it when you start choking and gagging on him too, it feeds his ego and gets him unspeakably horny.
dom!intak who’s a head pusher!!! fingers threaded through your hair as his head is thrown back in pleasure, his eyes rolling back and eyebrows furrowing together while deep groans leave his throat. as much as he loves letting you set the pace, sometimes (most of the time) he gets impatient and needs to take control by pushing your head down on him or thrusting his hips up to meet you, forcing his dick into the back of your throat.
dom!intak who smiles down at you because he’s so proud of how well you’re taking him. “just like that angel,” he whispers, choking back whines. besides making you choke and gag, he also loves it when your eyes get glossy from the overwhelming feeling too. taps your cheek and tsks at you to get you to look at him again if you start to close your eyes because it’s too much. “come on, look at me sweet girl.” loves holding eye contact while you’re between his legs.
dom!intak who loves cum play. loves cumming down your throat, on your face, on your stomach, on your ass… the options are really endless when it comes to him. wherever it is though, you best believe he’ll swipe up the milky white slick with his finger and push it in your mouth. “taste it baby… how is it?” he asks. his cheeks are flushed and his hair is a mess, and you could imagine you’re mirroring his look as you take his finger into your mouth, tongue swirling around and tasting the familiar salty flavor. presses his thumb down on your tongue as you open up and show him you’ve swallowed it all. definitely kisses you afterwards too; doesn’t mind tasting his own cum.
Their reaction when their s/o suprise them at their concert (Maknae Line)
And of course! This is the version for Han, Felix, Seungmin, and I.N. the Maknae Line! For those who didn't read the Hyung Line, you can check it out, too! Enjoy!! (Ps: the picture is not mine, and all credit are to the owner. I likely take at pinterest if you want to see)
WARNING: NONE
---
🐿️ Han Jisung
Jisung was having the time of his life, jumping around the stage, hyping up the crowd with his usual playful energy. But the second his eyes landed on you in the audience, his world came to a complete stop.
“Oh—”
The surprised sound slipped out before he could stop it, right into the mic, making fans burst into laughter. His expression was priceless, eyes wide, mouth hanging open, completely caught off guard. For a moment, he just stood there, staring at you like you were a dream he was afraid to wake up from.
Then, as if the realization finally hit him, he let out a giddy laugh, covering his face with his hands before peeking at you again. His entire demeanor shifted, he became even more energetic, running around the stage with the biggest smile on his face, constantly stealing glances at you. Whenever he caught your eye, he’d point at you dramatically or send exaggerated winks, making the fans swoon.
When the concert ended, he didn’t waste a second. The moment he saw you backstage, he bolted toward you, nearly knocking you over as he threw his arms around you.
“I thought I was hallucinating,” he whined against your shoulder. “You can’t just appear out of nowhere like that!”
You laughed, running a hand through his slightly damp hair. “I wanted to surprise you.”
He pulled back just enough to cup your face, his eyes softening. “Well, you did. And it’s the best surprise ever.” Then, he grinned, his nose brushing against yours. “Now, don’t be mad if I don’t let you go for the next few hours.”
---
🐥 Felix
The second Felix’s eyes found you in the crowd, his reaction was immediate, his hands flew to his chest as he gasped dramatically, his entire face lighting up like a thousand stars. His lips parted in surprise before curving into the brightest smile, his freckles smile on full display.
For a moment, he just stood there, taking in the sight of you, before excitement took over. He started bouncing in place, waving at you like a little kid who just spotted his favorite person. Fans caught onto his reaction instantly, their screams getting even louder as they pointed out how adorably flustered he was.
Throughout the concert, he kept making small hearts at you, pointing in your direction, and even whispering something to the members while giggling like a schoolboy. Every time he passed by your side of the stage, he’d throw in an extra dance move or a little wave, just for you.
When the concert finally ended, Felix practically sprinted off stage, his eyes searching for you the second he reached backstage. The moment he spotted you, he let out a happy squeal and ran straight into your arms, wrapping himself around you in the tightest hug possible.
“You really came!” he exclaimed, pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes were shining, full of love and disbelief. “You didn’t tell me you were coming!”
You smiled, running your hands through his soft blonde hair. “I wanted to see your reaction.”
Felix pouted before grinning again, his arms tightening around you. “Best surprise ever.” He buried his face in your shoulder, whispering, “I missed you so much.”
---
🐶 Seungmin
Seungmin prided himself on being level-headed, the type who didn’t get flustered easily. But the second he spotted you in the crowd, he knew he was doomed.
His grip on the mic tightened, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop the massive smile threatening to break across his face. His ears turned red, but he quickly forced himself to look away, pretending as if nothing had happened.
Fans noticed, of course. They caught the way he kept sneaking glances at you, how his lips twitched every time you cheered his name. His normally serious stage presence softened, his voice became more gentle during his singing parts, and his usually sharp dance moves carried a little more warmth.
When the concert ended, Seungmin casually walked backstage, acting like he wasn’t in a hurry. But the moment he saw you, all pretense melted away.
“Oh, so you finally decided to show up, huh?” he teased, crossing his arms. His tone was playful, but his eyes betrayed him, they were full of warmth, relief, and something deeper.
You rolled your eyes. “You’re not even happy to see me?”
That’s when his facade cracked. With a small sigh, he stepped forward and pulled you into a hug, resting his chin on your head. “I am,” he murmured, his voice softer now. “I missed you.”
You smiled against his chest, feeling his heartbeat steady against your cheek. “I missed you too.”
Seungmin huffed, squeezing you just a little tighter. “Next time, at least warn me. My heart almost stopped when I saw you.”
---
🦊 I.N
Jeongin was in the middle of interacting with fans, his bright smile lighting up the arena, when his eyes suddenly landed on you.
His jaw dropped.
His head whipped around to the other members, as if needing confirmation that what he was seeing was real. When they didn’t react, he turned back to you, still wide-eyed. You could see the way his mouth moved slightly, as if trying to form words but failing.
Fans immediately noticed his reaction, their screams growing louder. Some of them turned to see what had caught his attention, and soon, the whispers of “Is that Y/N?” spread through the crowd.
Jeongin quickly recovered, though his expression remained stunned for the rest of the song. Throughout the night, he kept sneaking glances at you, his smile getting softer every time he saw you cheering for him. At one point, he even pointed in your direction, mouthing a small but heartfelt “I see you.”
After the concert ended, Jeongin wasted no time making his way backstage. The second he saw you, his expression turned into the biggest pout.
“You almost gave me a heart attack!” he whined, stomping over to you. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
You grinned, pulling him into a hug. “Because I wanted to see that exact reaction.”
He groaned, burying his face in your shoulder, but you could feel his smile against your skin. His arms tightened around you, refusing to let go. “I’m really, really happy you’re here,” he mumbled, his voice slightly muffled.
You ran a hand through his hair, chuckling. “I’ll surprise you more often then.”
Jeongin pulled back just enough to look at you, shaking his head with a playful glare. “No way. My heart can’t handle it.” But then, he smiled, pressing his forehead against yours. “But… I’m glad you’re here.”
---
I hope this makes their reactions even more enjoyable! Let me know if there's anything wrong so I can improve yall 😞🙏🏻 Please do go to my list if you intersted in reading my humble creations ✨️
Silly Love: Stray Kids’ reactions to their S/O’s playful affection
Bang Chan
After a long day, you wrapped your arms tightly around Chris’ waist, your face snuggling into his chest. He chuckled softly and leaned down to press a kiss to your head, but his breath hitched when he felt you nose wiggle under the collar of his shirt, right against his collarbone.
He stiffened for a second before letting out the most amused chuckle.
“Wha–what are you doing down there?” he laughed, looking down with wide, amused eyes.
You giggled, nose still tucked under the fabric. “You’re warm. And your smell is comforting.”
He melted immediately. “You’re weird,” he said, grinning like an idiot as he hugged you even tighter, resting his chin on your head. “My favorite weirdo.”
Lee Know
You were in the middle of rambling about your day when Minho made a sarcastic comment. Offended, you scrunched your nose at him.
Minho blinked. “Did you just scrunch your nose at me?” he asked, mock-serious.
You did it again, this time exaggerated.
He blinked again, then smirked. “You think you're cute, huh?” He leaned in slightly, narrowing his eyes.
You faked a gasp. “Excuse you—I am cute!”
Minho scoffed lightly, clearly amused. “Don’t look at me like that,” he murmured, lips tugging into a smirk. “You know I like it when you’re weird.”
Changbin
Curled up with Changbin on the couch, your eyes drifted to his arms. Without thinking, you leaned down and gave one a soft, playful bite.
He jolted. “Did you just—?! Did you bite me?!” he exclaimed, looking both scandalized and delighted.
You shrugged innocently. “You looked... snackable – I had to.”
He stared at you, then burst out laughing. “You’re unbelievable. And dangerous,” he muttered, shaking his head but clearly loving every second.
He was still laughing as he pulled you into his chest. “You know what? Next time, I’m biting you. On the cheek. Just wait.”
“Deal,” you giggled. “I’ll take that as a toleration to bite your arm whenever I want.”
Hyunjin
Hyunjin’s hands rested peacefully in your lap as the two of you watched a drama, the room quiet except for the soft flicker of the screen. Absentmindedly, you started playing with his fingers, spinning his rings and tracing the lines of his palm, watching it catch the light.
He watched you for a while with a soft expression, then whispered, “You always do that when you're quiet... It’s cute.”
You looked up with a small smile, then laced your fingers with his again. “I like your hands,” you murmured. “They feel nice.”
He smiled, interlocking your fingers with his.
Han
You were leaning against Han, giggling at something he said, when, out of nowhere, you turned your head and gave him a quick, cat-like lick on his cheek.
Han jerks back, eyes wide in horror. “Did you just—lick me!?”
You tried to stifle your laughter, nodding proudly. “I’m just marking my territory. Like a cat.”
Han blinked, deadpan. “I need bleach,” he muttered. “Immediately.”
You leaned in again, playfully pouting. “I’m just showing you affection!”
Despite himself, he cracked a smile, covering his face. “God, why am I attracted to this?”
Felix
The two of you were nestled together under a blanket, faces centimeters apart and Felix’s freckles close enough to count. On a whim, you leaned in and booped your nose against his – once, twice, again.
He giggled softly, eyes crinkling and nuzzled back with a whisper, “Inuit kisses?”
You nodded, and he rested his forehead on yours, his voice gentle. “I love this. It's silly… but it's so us.”
Then he booped your nose back and added with a grin, “One more for luck,” before pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.
Seungmin
Seungmin was lying back, scrolling on his phone while you lounged beside him. You reached over and poked his side gently.
He flinched but said nothing. So, you poked him again. This time, he glanced over with a warning side-eye. By the third poke, he grabbed your hand. “You trying to start something?” he muttered.
You grinned and poke him again with your other hand. “It’s a love poke.”
He sighed dramatically, but you caught the smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. “Okay, you get five pokes a day. Any more, and I retaliate.”
He grabbed a pillow and placed it on his lap. “You’ve been warned.”
I.N
You wrapped your arms around Jeongin from behind and nuzzled your face against his back, slowly rubbing your cheek across the soft fabric of his hoodie like you were trying to soak in his warmth.
He stiffened for a second before glancing over his shoulder with a baffled smile. “What are you doing?—You’re so weird”
You paused. “Sorry… is it too much?”
He turned in your arms. “Hey,” he murmured, “I don’t mind. It’s kind of adorable.” He smirked, playful now. “Just don’t jump me out of nowhere.”
imagine boyfriend Ni-ki sleeping peacefully in your hyperfeminine room surrounded by all your plushies and your sweet vanilla smell while wearing his dark clothes that contrast so hard with the soft pink bedsheets he’s tangled in. his black hoodie’s riding up a little from how he’s curled around your favorite oversized bunny plush, long legs dangling off the edge of your frilly duvet because he’s too tall to fit in your bed. there’s glitter on his cheek from your throw pillows, one of your silky sleep masks pushed up into his messy hair, and your signature body spray has totally clung to him by now.
he would always mock you playfully about how you need to grow up but then later, when you’re not looking, he’d quietly slip one of your sparkly Sanrio keychains into his hoodie pocket. or that tiny bow hair clip you left on the nightstand? yeah, it ends up clipped to the corner of his speaker back at the dorm, no explanation given.
he’d never admit how much comfort those tiny pieces of your world bring him. the sweet vanilla scent clinging to the bow, the pastel charm dangling from his keys, it’s like carrying little pieces of your softness with him wherever he goes. It reminds him that even if he acts cool and detached, there’s a pink, plush-filled, heart-shaped space in his life that belongs only to you.
he would also make love to you so lovingly. he’d be so gentle with you there, in your own dreamy sanctuary where everything smells like you and feels like home. the same boy who teases you for your plushies and pastel everything suddenly turns so soft the moment he has you beneath him, surrounded by all the things that make you you.
he’d take his time, whispering things like, “you’re so pretty here, baby… look at you in your world,” brushing your hair off your face as he moves inside you like he wants to make a home out of your body too, like can’t get over how good and perfect you feel around him. his dark clothes bunched around his hips, his chrome hearts chain glinting faintly in the fairy lights as he presses kisses to your collarbones, your cheeks, your lips, treating you like the most fragile, beautiful thing in the world.
and afterward, when you’re curled up in his arms, the room quiet except for the hum of your little pink fan, he’d play with your hair and murmur, “i love being in here with you, just spending time together. it feels like home”
even in his sleep, Ni-ki’s brow is faintly furrowed like he’s dreaming about something intense, but the way he’s wrapped around your plushies like they’re you? yeah, he’s completely at peace in your ultra-girly, candy-scented sanctuary. it’s your world, and somehow this dark, brooding boy fits into it like he was always meant to.