“Reading good books, always studying, regardless of the work she intends to do, should be a part of every girl’s plan for her life. The only way not to let what we’ve gained be taken away from us is to be smart and capable, to learn to design the world better than men have so far done.”
— We Tell a Story and Try to Do Our Best | Elena Ferrante
life was supposed to go forward the way you had always been told.
find someone, fall in love, get married, have kids.
that was the formula - the routine of every day life that you, yourself, had agreed to. it was supposed to be easy and carefree, the type of love that felt natural and yet definite. it was supposed to be certain.
jeon jungkook.
the love of your life. no one, nothing, could compare to him; the one constant in your life since you were no older than five. two years older than you, he had been the object of your infatuations even then, and though you both harboured a crush on one another as you grew up, it was only when you were 14 that you both actually pursued something.
you both came from broken homes, with your parents entangled in the world of drugs and abuse, his absent more times than present. you had each other though, and that was all either of you had ever really needed - that much had been true for years. it didn’t take long to fall in love with him, not when he treated you like blooming flowers in the first touch of spring; you were more than just his girl. you were his y/n.
no one blinked when he proposed, everyone half expecting it, and neither of you had wanted to wait to plan a lavish wedding when you were both the only constants in each other’s lives. and so, with cheap rings, a random dress you had found at the bottom of your wardrobe and his scuffed shoes - you had become husband and wife.
jungkook was the best partner you could have ever asked for. money was tight in the beginning as he threw himself into his job, making sure he had enough to spoil you rotten even if that meant coming home exhausted. it killed you to see him working so hard, but he never complained, not even once. it was done in the pursuit of his sweet wife, and therefore just.
he quickly began climbing the ranks, his intelligence unmatched, his speed and efficiency making him a force to be reckoned with. in a mere seven years, he had managed to go from the lowest ranking worker in the company right to head office, before formally being announced as ceo.
it was unheard of. people like him, people like you, they didn’t live like this. it felt like over night your entire life had changed, as the tiny, one bed apartment transformed into a penthouse suite in your city’s most reputable area, your beaten down car now more lavish than you could ever dream of. your clothes - silks, linens and luxurious patterns. you were a changed woman, all at the hands of your husband.
that was when the cracks had began to form.
the late nights began, jungkook holed up in his office for far longer than anyone else at the company, stacks of paper all around as he tried to crack numbers before the next day could bring its own workload. you didn’t mind at first, more so worried over anything else.
you packed late dinners, going up to his office and eating them with him just to keep him company, to ground him which he needed more than you could ever realise. he would sit you on his lap as he worked, all whilst you napped peacefully on his shoulder as though this was perfectly normal.
the first few months, it worked. after that, it could no longer hide the gaping hole that had begun to appear.
missed dinners. missed dates. jungkook showing up at two in the morning despite everyone else going home at five in the afternoon - this wasn’t normal. wasn’t healthy. the amount of arguments that were being caused due to his workaholic nature was alarming, especially considering neither of you had ever even raised your voices to one another prior to this.
your heart was getting heavier and heavier.
not because you doubted his love for you - that wasn’t even a question in your mind, that much was certain. if anything, jungkook loved you too much, entirely and wholly, with every single decision made in his life somehow tracing back to you in one way or another. whether it was purchasing things, buying them with the intent of impressing you, making you happy or smile. every opportunity, every signed contract, every bastard fucking meeting that he could feel so deeply in his bones was done with the intention of giving you a life so soft you would never experience hardship again.
that was where the problem lay.
jungkook didn’t know how to love in a way that could nurture your relationship through this, and so, he did the only thing he could. he sacrificed.
slowly, painfully, the realisation that somewhere between the neglect, the late nights and unanswered phone calls, your husband had stopped being your husband at all. he had become a mere ghost in your shared home.
the night you had made your decision was one that felt imprinted in your memory.
it was past midnight, the harsh light of your phone reminding you with each passing moment. the rain was harsh too, with it being the middle of autumn, causing you to curl deeper into the covers on your bed but it did nothing to chase the cold away. dinner had long gone cold downstairs, with your housekeeper giving you a long, sad look before leaving to her own home, patting you on the shoulder in comfort.
your heart hurt so fucking much.
your phone was untouched, with messages sent hours prior despite the lack of response.
‘where are you?’
‘are you coming home tonight?’
‘jungkook, you promised.’
‘i miss you.’
you felt pathetic. humiliation ran up and down your veins at the thought of having to beg for a morsel of attention from your husband, but what else were you supposed to do? what else could you do? loneliness had a tendency to do that to people.
the sound of the front door finally opening had your eyes looking up, no longer staring into space, thinking. overthinking.
jungkook finally stumbled in, hours and hours late, shoulders tense and black coat half wet due to the rain outside. his phone had died hours ago, and his brain was a jumble of numbers and stakeholders, still muttering under his breath over something one of his colleagues had said. he was exhaustion personified.
“baby.” he exhaled deeply upon the sight of you still up.
1:47am.
you stared at him, unable to focus on anything in particular as your reddened eyes somehow glinted in the moonlit essence of the room. his heart ached.
“you missed it again.” you whispered, barely audible.
another dinner sat cold. jungkook had noticed it on his way up, muttering a small fuck under his breath, but seeing you now? something had changed, something was different and the sight scared him to death.
“i know, i..”
“you said you’d be home for six.”
“i know baby, i’m so sorry, we had an emergency shareholders meeting and it was just..fuck.”
“it’s always an emergency.” you muttered bitterly.
the silence that followed felt suffocating to you both.
he carefully placed his things at the door before approaching you slowly, as though you were a wounded fawn struck by an arrow from his own back - it was his fault. he knew that, he could see it.
“i’m trying.” he whispered softly, as he crouched to meet your eyes.
that was the worst thing of all - of course he was trying. you knew he was, you could see it in every single thing he did but that was the part that made it so much more painful. it was unbearable.
tears burned harshly behind your eyes, lip openly trembling as you stared at the only man to have ever felt your affection, the love of your life. the same man that would set himself on fire just to keep you warm, who had done this all for you - even you knew that but, the pain. you weren’t sure when loving him had started to hurt this badly.
“i don’t need..i don’t want any of this, jungkook.” you corrected as your voice cracked, hands gesturing to the too large room. “don’t care about penthouses or cars, or money..”
“it’s not about that.”
“then what is it about?” you cried, months and months of neglect finally collapsing all at once. “because i’m losing you anyway.”
the devastation that appeared on his face would have floored you on any other occasion, but the horrible feeling that had taken over was consuming you from the inside out. you couldn’t rid yourself of your thoughts, the looming decision that had grown and grown and grown, so much so that it felt bigger than you in both mind and body. you couldn’t stop the tears even if you wanted to.
“i feel so lonely.” you admitted honestly, a broken sob leaving your lips. “you’re all i have..all i’ve ever had and i feel lonely.”
the words physically wounded him as he felt his own tears begin to form, a horrible realisation fluttering through his body - this wasn’t fixable. he could see it now, the utter pain in your eyes, the way your body shook as you cried, and though he was crouched in front of you, arms wrapping around you; it wasn’t enough.
“i’ll fix this. i’ll fix this, fuck. y/n..” he shook, holding you so tightly, his heart beating out of his chest. “give me time. give me a chance. give me something, give me anything.”
you only cried harder at his words, collapsing entirely as the sobs racked through your body violently. you knew he meant it, knew he meant every single word, and you genuinely believed it too but you were tired.
so, so tired.
you knew that the love between you, no matter how deep, could not survive on patched up apologies and promises no longer.
the separation happened three weeks later.
perhaps that was too cruel of you - you should have given him more time, more chances, another opportunity to prove himself to you so he could actually begin repairing something that had already long collapsed before he had ever realised the damage. staying felt too painful, as though you were prodding delicate skin with a million sharpened blades. for once in your entire existence, you chose yourself.
you hated yourself for it.
you could no longer survive off of the memories of who your husband had once been, the once sweet teenage boy who slept on the streets with you just so you’d feel safe from the grasps of your parents. the man who had ran home to tell you about his promotion, who then sobbed in your arms at the mere prospect of getting to give you the life you deserved. oh, how each and every fibre of your being yearned for him, how it knew him by breath alone and yet it wasn’t enough. nothing could possibly hurt more.
packing your things nearly killed him. you remembered it vividly.
jungkook stood silently in the doorway of your shared bedroom, watching numbly, as though his soul had left his entire body as you packed up remnants of a life once shared with him. cardboard boxes were filled with your books, your makeup, your silly trinkets you had acquired together - the sight of you crying as you packed your wedding album so delicately was enough to have him bite back his own sob, shaking his head at the reality of the situation.
he hadn’t stopped you. it was the worst part.
jungkook was intimidating to most; hardened by his life experiences and the struggle he had been raised in, his only priority for the past decade being you. you didn’t like to go into his work, knowing he was quite literally a different person there - efficient, yes, but also ruthless. and yet, he stood, watching you as though his eyes couldn’t comprehend the scene in front of him, tears wiped harshly from his face in fear that it would only upset you more.
even in moments like this, he put you first.
his hands sat caged on either side of him, as you sobbed, and sobbed and sobbed. he wanted nothing more than to pick you up, cradle you, cherish you the way he so desperately wanted but in his love for you came your happiness. he was a man devoted to you, and he couldn’t cage you somewhere you no longer felt happy staying - he loved you too much to ever do that.
the divorce proceedings were somehow so much worse.
the media frenzy surrounding jeon jungkook, the elusive ceo who was known for his mysterious persona and dark eyes, was quite literally unbearable. the sudden separation exploded all over the tabloids and the internet, with headlines appearing faster than either of you could keep up with. the hate was too much, to which jungkook stepped in to silence everyone behind the scenes, throwing an insane amount of money at journalists to keep your name out of their filthy mouths. wife or not, you were one half of him and he’d be damned if you were spoken of in anyway that wasn’t praiseworthy.
you couldn’t even look at him during the hearings.
god, you tried. you wanted to, managing to sneak little glances where you caught him already staring at you, despair all over his face, but you couldn’t handle it, tears streaming out of your eyes almost immediately. he knew you loved him. he could see it, clear as day.
he looked sick, as though he hadn’t eaten for weeks, the mere sight of you enough to sustain him until the next meeting, where your feet lightly brushed against one another underneath the table in a subconscious way.
he barely spoke, only choosing to actually speak when he was asked a question, but other than that, he spent his time in the meetings staring at you longingly. he’d whisper a soft “don’t cry” whenever he’d see you tear up, your lip quivering each time you snuck a glance over, despite knowing it was breaking you.
he signed everything over to you immediately. his lawyers had practically choked, eyes wide as he silenced them almost harshly for even suggesting anything otherwise, your own eyebrows pulling together as you tried to reject. you didn’t want his money, you didn’t want what he had worked so hard for.
the penthouse, the cars, the accounts. every. fucking. thing.
“jungkook..” you had whispered through tears at the table, addressing him for the first time in so long. “i don’t want any of this, it’s yours. you’ve worked so hard.”
hearing you was enough to provide the energy he had been lacking, the very blood in his bloodstream pumping harder as he shook his head at you, offended.
“i got those things for you. it never belonged to me..was always yours.” he whispered back, causing you to look down with another choked sob.
it was the final hearing that truly cemented the empty hole inside of you.
your hands shook violently, so much so that you were unable to pick up your pen and sign away your marriage, the one thing you needed to do to finally let him go. everyone in the room frowned as they watched you, face flooded with tears as your digits simply refused, as though your body rejected the notion as being entirely unnatural. they all felt pity for you, for both of you - you both were clearly in love, and they couldn’t understand the gravity of the situation between you.
jungkook had stood from his side of the table, walking over to you until his hand had softly encapsulated your own, your quiet sobs only growing harsher at the feel of the one person you had been craving for so long. he held it, guiding you to your own, helping you write your name on the dotted line despite every part of his body aching.
ex-husband.
the thought should have killed you.
once it was signed, he held onto your hand, too scared to let go as the documents were taken, your lawyers and his slowly leaving the room, leaving you be. you should have let go, should have pushed him away as he no longer had any tie to you - you weren’t married, you weren’t together. alas, the thought felt sacrilegious.
instead, he knelt, knees hitting the hardened floor below you as your red eyes met his properly. entirely.
“i’ll fix this.” he promised you, voice no longer shaking, as you could hear the depth of his promise to you. “i don’t care how long it takes, baby, but you’ll come back to me. i’ll come back to you better, i’ll be worthy. i promise you, y/n.” he whispered.
another sob climbed up your throat, mean and harsh, as your body collapsed against the chair you were sat in, your emotion taking a complete hold over you.
because even then, after everything, you knew his words to be true. you knew home would be waiting.
—
eight months had passed now, and soon came the first touch of summer. the bleak sky had become brighter, clouds hibernating and birds chirping as the world became warmer, accommodating for the transition into what most would describe as a joyous time. unfortunately for you, your body was still recovering from what could only be described as the most traumatic stage of your life thus far.
everything felt unnatural and wrong - you were trying to keep up despite it moving a million miles around you.
even after all this time, your stomach still dropped whenever you’d see anything that referred to him as your ex husband, as though your mind and heart needed a moment to catch up. how could jungkook ever simply become an ex anything to you?
he had existed in your life for so long that removing him felt akin to ripping a vital organ out of your body, all whilst expected to function entirely normally. how could you? you suppose you were failing, really, with the way you moved through life out of necessity instead of want.
the tabloids loved him now more than ever. it was the paradox of tragedy, you assumed, as you knew how badly the world yearned for a broken hearted lover.
the youngest ceo in the country’s history, a billionaire bachelor - the elusive businessman was on the top of every social hierarchy, whilst people spoke about you in hushed whispers. the only woman to have ever gotten away. who were you? why did you leave? why did he leave you with so much?
he had become so much colder after the divorce, and people picked up on it like rats with forgotten food.
the media had always labelled him as an intimidating man, but now, there was no way of denying it. there was something unsettling about the pictures that were being papped of him, your hungry eyes taking him in top to bottom, nibbling your lip - he looked so different. broad shoulders remained the same, but he seemed bigger, no doubt taking out his pain in the gym. it was the look in his eyes, however, that had your stomach in knots.
he looked dead whilst alive.
jeon jungkook was heartbroken, and the world knew it clear as day.
he had dealt with it the only way he knew how - by burying himself six feet deep into his work, knowing he had nothing to come home to, often times sleeping in his office just so he could ignore the silence of his house.
meanwhile, you had spent the last eight months trying to learn how to exist without him.
the humiliation at first was all you were reminded of, as you realised how deeply you had intertwined into him and vice versa. the silence in your once shared penthouse was so unbearable that you had moved into a tiny two bedroom apartment, using the spare as a storage unit for all of your books. on your nightstand still sat a picture of you both, as you secretly cried over it most nights. you couldn’t even sleep unless you wore one of his hoodies, despite his scent having washed off months ago - it was the comfort of knowing you still had a part of your marriage with you.
you missed him in every small, stupid, awful way imaginable.
the feeling of his hand, heavy and strong, on your thigh as he drove you around. the way he would cage you into any surface he could find just to smother you in kisses, or even the way he would whisper into your ear stupid jokes that had you giggling too loudly for the world to hear.
you missed your husband. you missed jungkook.
everyday you battled with the regret of your choice, especially once you’d see the way his under-eyes had sunken with the lack of sleep and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to admit it out loud. you couldn’t live that way again, not with the neglect - not with your past trauma from your parents.
jungkook knew the gravity of his actions, knew you needed to heal and reason with them before he could come back to you but fuck, it hurt so bad to wait.
sometimes, during your weaker moments, you found yourself searching him into your phone in the dead of night, breathing out an audible sigh of relief at the confirmation he was still openly single. it was pathetic, that much you knew, but it was selfish beyond anything else. so cruel to want the man you left to be alone, simply because he still belonged to you.
you had attempted to rebuild your life slowly, carefully piecing together fragments of yourself that existed before all of this had happened. your days were quieter now, so much lonelier but it was enough to keep your mind from spiralling every second of every waking day.
some habits, however, refused to die.
his contact remained as the only favourited number in your phone, as you spent all of your time rereading old messages, despite it ending in tears. if only you knew he too did the same, with his photo album on his phone his most used app as he stared at you nightly, often falling asleep with your picture shining brightly on his screen.
you still loved him. he loved you even more.
that could never change.
-
the first flowers came on a random tuesday.
you had just experienced one of the worst days you’d had in a while, with a final meeting with one of your clients going to shit after you realised hours of work and designs had somehow corrupted, and then deleted. by the time you had returned home, you were sure the world had seen your teary state, your body heavier than usual.
as you searched your bag for your keys, your eyes peered up, noticing them.
your breath caught.
sitting neatly outside your apartment door. a bouquet, large but elegant - white gardenias. the flowers you had held at not only your wedding, but the ones jungkook would buy you for your anniversary each year.
your flowers.
your chest ached so violently you found yourself gasping for air as your legs gave out below you. you slid down the wall, fingers brushing against the delicate petals as you looked for a note, only to realise there wasn’t one. you didn’t need to see who they were from, only one person knew you well enough and your heart felt like it had been split into two as you took them in.
it wasn’t your anniversary, wasn’t any special kind of occasion, and yet here they were. bright, promising, sweet.
your vision blurred with heavy tears as the painful feeling in your body grew, throat tightening with emotion before reaching out and taking a hold of them, breathing the flowers in openly.
the scent alone was enough to destroy you.
he was everywhere, all of the time - even now. especially now.
the flowers had become a norm, a pattern that was only recognisable to you, and completely deniable to any other person looking in. you were smarter than you looked and you knew what was happening, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to call it out.
your favourite restaurant somehow managing to accommodate you always despite the line or packed out reservations list, or the paparazzi that often bullied you for your attention outside of your home mysteriously disappearing. even your car, that you had dented slightly, appeared in perfect condition as you walked down to go to work one morning, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
your chest bloomed with realisation.
jungkook.
he never appeared himself, no. never. it was unsettling really, the reminder that he was powerful and could have things done with a flick of his wrist - he was sure to never make you privy to it, so you’d always feel like he was the same boy you had met all those years ago. now? he had every intention of showing you the empire he had built for you and you alone. he lingered around you and your life like a floating ghost, invisible but permanent. you truly couldn’t get rid of him even if you tried.
three weeks later is when you felt yourself reaching breaking point.
for the first time in months, you were finally leaving the house to actually do something for fun. your best friend, yejin, who’s husband yoongi was ironically jungkook’s best friend, had forced you to come out for a drink. nothing intense, merely a nice bar where the drinks were smooth and the company was good, with slow jazz playing in the back.
exhaustion was heavy in your bones but you listened, doing your best to make yourself look nice despite how dead you felt inside. a little skirt that felt too short and a top that perhaps plunged too low - yejin had deemed you utterly perfect.
sat at the bar, you sipped your drink, wincing lightly as she yapped away about something her coworker had said. you appreciated how she refused to bring jungkook up, knowing that she couldn’t breach the topic unless you were the one to bring it up yourself. you hated how badly you wanted to, how desperate you were to find out how he was doing.
she filled the air constantly, like she was terrified of what would happen if your mind caught up to the reality of the situation, instead filling it with nonsense to occupy your demanding thoughts.
you let her.
you even found yourself laughing, the feeling and sound so startling that it reduced you to silence for a full minute afterwards as you welcomed the feeling of actual joy for the first time in so long.
you almost didn’t notice the shift in your phone, the slight light radiating from beneath as you had turned it onto its screen earlier in the evening. she, however, paused mid sentence, eyes dropping down to let you know someone was ringing.
nothing could have prepared you for the sight of his name on the screen.
the name, ‘kookie’ with a large, red heart adorned your phone as humiliation rummaged through you at the realisation you had never even bothered to change his name, the concept too painful to come to terms with. however, yejin all but gasped as she turned to you, eyes widened with an almost excitement.
“answer it.” she encouraged, hand on your back. “i’ll watch your drink.”
you weren’t sure what to say, as you nodded, staring down at the screen before shakily sliding off of your seat and heading towards the back entrance, where a smokers area sat empty. your hands shook as you cupped the phone to your chest, taking a seat before looking down at it once more.
he was calling you.
jungkook was fucking calling you.
before you could overthink, you swiped, answering it.
the phone felt hot against your ear, a reminder of what was currently happening as your heart began beating harder than it had in months, your hands shaking. for a second, neither of you spoke.
you could hear faint movement on his end, a shuffling of some sorts before he completely stilled, as though he had pushed everything he was doing to a side at the realisation you had actually answered.
“hi.”
god. your eyes squeezed shut tight almost immediately.
there he was - your jungkook. not the ceo extraordinaire that was plastered on every publication you could find, with dead eyes and a sharp expression. no, this was him. jungkook. your jungkook.
the sound alone nearly brought you to tears. you felt so pathetic.
“hi.” you whispered back, voice cracking.
silence settled again, but not awkwardly. you didn’t think an awkward silence was capable of existing between you, not when your bodies were so intertwined and so aware of one another. the distance between you was unnatural, neither of your minds able to comprehend an eight month hiatus enough to understand that this phone call alone shouldn’t have been happening.
he exhaled slowly, and your shoulders gently relaxed, your eyes closing momentarily as you imagined him. no doubt still at work, in a suit unbuttoned at the shirt, his tie long forgotten. his tattooed hand running through his hair, ruffling it the way you always would.
“you answered.” he broke you out of your thoughts.
your chest tightened painfully at the sheer disbelief in his tone.
“you called.”
a faint huff of amusement left him then, causing you to blink back any emotion that was building in your eyes. it eased you.
“yeah.” he breathed out.
another pause.
you felt so suddenly aware of yourself - your hand reached out to smooth down your hair, adjust your top and skirt, despite knowing he couldn’t see you. it was subconscious, as though the thought of him alone was enough to undo you, but his voice? hearing it after so long, directed at you, for you. yours. it was enough to have you soothed for months.
before you could spiral in your thoughts, he spoke again.
“where are you?”
“out with yejin.”
“mm.” you shivered at his hum. you had no idea he was so undone at the sound of you too. “a bar?”
“yeah.”
“you drinking?”
you rolled your eyes, tongue poking your cheek at his curiosity. some things truly had never changed.
“why?” you asked, and you could almost hear his grin on the other end. “can’t i ask?”
his tone, smooth. familiar. fuck, it did things to you, and you could feel your thighs pressing together just listening to him. secretly, your favourite part of jungkook was how possessive he had always been, and even in moments like this where he hid it under a layer of calmness, you could recognise it instantly.
it reminded you of when he’d ask you whether you had eaten, just before pulling you into his lap, lips attacking the side of your neck hungrily or when he’d tell you to take your medicine, with a slow ‘baby’ and kisses planted to your forehead and cheeks.
“one drink.” you revealed, with a nibble to your lip.
you had no idea that he too was a fucking mess.
jungkook was indeed in his office, with his legs spread, suit jacket and tie somewhere, his shirt unbuttoned a little as he too drank. a cup of whiskey in his hand, his hair a mess as he scoured over your instagram for the millionth time just that day. neither of you were ones to post much, especially considering your accounts were private with only a few people, but he stalked you daily in hopes of a glimpse of you. could you blame him? he was utterly, devotedly in love with you.
a measly divorce couldn’t stop that.
seeing yejin’s story, with your low cut top, and your big eyes showing a sign of life for the first time in months made his heart bloom. it had his cock straining, again, just looking at you, eyes hungrily looking over every inch of you and your soft smile. god, how he had missed it.
he had given you your time. respected your wishes, allowed you eight months of this but enough was enough. the flowers were just the beginning, marking his space back in your life through a promise he had every intention of upholding. he had told you directly he was going to fix this, and you, his sweet, sweet girl had believed him.
he would never let you down again.
“you having fun?”
“why do you wanna know every single detail?” you asked, tone a little harsher than intended but you couldn’t help yourself. this was an ambush on your senses.
he huffed once more, the amusement enough to disarm you.
“because i miss you.”
the words left him so easily that the breath in your lungs completely dissipated, leaving you a statued mess. no hesitation, no shame - pure, devastating honesty.
“you can’t say that, jungkook.” you weakly combatted, the intake of breath on his side of the phone at the sound of his name leaving your mouth enough of an answer for you.
“why not? i can’t miss my wife?” he scoffed lightly at you.
you blubbered for a moment. “i-i am not..i’m not your wife!”
“okay.” he hummed once more.
there was a quiet clink on his end, no doubt picking his drink up and taking a big gulp after abandoning it the second you answered. neither of you spoke for a few more moments, silence now becoming a running theme between you on the call, and yet it was still void of the awkwardness you’d find anywhere else. it was awful how familiar it felt. how comfortable and safe.
your fingers played with the hem of your skirt nervously, unsure if you had been too brash - he was hurting too after all.
“is that top new?”
your breath caught.
“..what?”
jungkook stayed quiet for an extra beat. “your top. haven’t seen that one before.”
heat flooded your cheeks, chest and neck before you could even respond, your lips bitten down as you inhaled shakily.
“how do you know that?” you were ignoring the way your pulse was hammering against your body, trying to feign an air of nonchalance.
at that, he couldn’t help the small grin. “saw you on yejin’s story.” he murmured, quieter now. “look so good. love when you wear pink, baby.”
it wasn’t even the words he had chosen, but more so the way he was saying them. so calm, so certain, so casual as if he wasn’t calling his ex wife baby over a bit of cleavage that was never really meant for his eyes - your blush spreading all over you now.
“jungkook..” you breathed out, shakily.
“what?” he asked innocently, and you could really hear the smile in his voice now. “am i wrong?”
you looked down at your top, nibbling away at your lip to hide the small smile that was beginning to form on your own face, something that you hadn’t felt in a long, long time. your fingers brushed against your stomach, feeling the fabric before tucking a strand behind your hair.
“it’s new.” you admitted softly, heels shuffling slightly on the ground.
the sound he made in response was enough to ruin you. not a laugh, not quite a sigh - something pleased.
he hummed. “so pretty.”
your eyes squeezed shut, and jungkook could feel it. could see it as though you were right in front of him. you were never one to handle a compliment, always going pink and shyly looking away and god, he loved it so much. loved complimenting you in hopes that you would react just like that, just to see you get all flustered.
the feeling in your stomach..it felt so strange. the same one that had haunted you for the past eight months, an unbearable warmth that filled you from your toes to your head, something you craved so desperately from him and him alone. to be noticed, looked at, admired by jungkook was one thing but to be loved by him? it was joy in itself.
you could feel it.
no one had ever loved you quite like he had done, as though every single thing you were capable of was worthy of applause. it terrified you.
“you can’t do this.” your voice came out so much smaller than either of you had expected, changing the entire feel of the call instantly.
as a result, his own tone softened, as though he was dealing with something porcelain.
“do what, baby?”
your heart physically ached.
“talk to me..like nothing happened.”
you felt sick to your stomach, hands gripping your phone and stomach as your eyes shut tight. you wished you hadn’t of said anything, not with the way the silence kissed the air in a way that felt anything but familiar - it hurt. painful in every single way.
for the first time since answering the phone, you could see jungkook properly. could hear him breathing sharply as though your words were both a reminder and an understanding that no matter what, things could never go back to what they once were.
the slight twitch in his cheek, the way his fingers would naturally tighten whenever he was overwhelmed with emotion like he didn’t know where to put it, where to place it in his overworking mind. he had always loved so deeply, your jungkook; just didn’t know where to put it, or how to show it.
when he finally spoke again, his voice was quieter. stripped bare for you, so you could feel him.
“i know what i did.” he admitted softly. “i know i fucked up, and that i failed you as a husband.”
your throat tightened.
outside, rainwater still lingered from earlier, a sickly humidity wrapped into every air particle around you. the scent of lingering cigarette smoke was heavy enough to ground you in that moment as you listened to jungkook speak words neither of you could truly handle hearing, despite how necessary they were. it just hurt so, so badly.
inside the bar, you could hear muffled laughter, people egging one another on for drinks as jazz boomed, your heart easing as you could hear yejin’s voice amongst the crowd, no doubt the life of the party there too.
“then why are you acting like this?” you pathetically asked, lip jutting out in a teary pout. he could almost hear it on you. “you’re talking to me like we’re still together.”
“you’re still mine, y/n.”
your breath hitched violently.
“jungkook-“
“no,” he remained calm, a stark difference between you and him. “you asked me a question, baby, so let me answer it properly.”
the nickname rolled off of his lips so naturally, instinctively, and you hated how easily your body curled closer, almost desperate to hear it whilst he stood in front of you. you had always been putty in his hands, so easily undone with a few pretty words but you’d held back for the past few months for the sake of your boundaries. hearing him so open, so honest - it was fucking you up all over again.
“i know we’re divorced,” he continued before you could interrupt him again. “i know..you’re not my wife anymore, and i know this is my fault. you left because of me and i’ll live with that for the rest of my life.”
his voice cracked by the end of his statement.
“but i won’t sit here and pretend like the last eight months have suddenly erased the past fifteen years of loving you.”
the words shattered you. your delicate, pathetic heart broke once more at his words at the confirmation of what you needed to hear so, so badly.
years of abandonment issues stemming from your parents and friends who had only ever toyed with you meant you had put your all into jungkook, who had only ever put every inch of himself back in - you were a partnership, a welcome duo that made sense to the both of you. watching him pull back, forget you, neglect and abandon your relationship no matter the reason was enough to trigger you in ways that no one could reason with.
it was an intimate form of violence that though was never intended, hurt more than anything he could have ever done to you.
he knew that. he was openly telling you he recognised his faults, his wrong doings - you knew that too. god, you knew him better than anyone alive, and you knew that by leaving him it was the only way for him to understand and see.
“you’re making this so much harder, jungkook.” you whispered out through a flood of tears, your mascara and eyeliner smudging immediately under the slaughter of liquid.
“i’m sorry. i’m so, so sorry baby but i need you to hear me, okay? just..i need you to know i’m going to fix this. properly.” he breathed out, desperate now. “i’ve been doing things right this time..gave you space, let you breathe, been working on myself and going to therapy. don’t sleep at the office anymore, did at the start cause i didn’t like coming home but i’m better now.”
therapy?
you knew he held so much trauma with his own parents, his own upbringing, too scared to ever even speak about it if it wasn’t with you but to hear he had actually taken the steps to go forwards with something that put him directly out of his comfort zone was insanity to you. especially when his one and only concern had only ever been your own comfort, even at his expense.
his honesty made you burst out into quiet sobs - a noise he swore was harsh enough to kill him. he breathed out, cooing at you lightly as he shook his head despite you unable to see him, so pained.
jungkook recognised your pain immediately.
“yeah,” he muttered. “turns out working yourself to death because you’re afraid of losing everything after you’ve had a shitty upbringing actually isn’t normal behaviour. who knew?”
despite your heartbroken state, you let out a sincere watery laugh.
the sound hit him like a drug.
he went completely silent after hearing it, replaying it in the forefront of his mind. a greedy, gluttonous side of him climbing out of his very throat as he held it close to his soul, cherishing it - he was a starved man finally being fed.
“there she is.” he breathed. “fuck..missed hearing your laugh.”
you hated how easily you were able to slip back into him.
“jungkook..”
“i mean it,” his tone deepened slightly - more certain, more intentional. “i’m not calling you tonight to confuse you, y/n. i’m not calling because i’m lonely..”
your fingers tightened around the phone once more. “then, why?”
“because i’m getting you back.”
there was no hesitation in his voice, no wariness nor anything other than sheer determination. he sounded firm and a part of that thrilled you, whilst the other half sat scared of what this meant - you couldn’t survive this again, losing him. what if you had changed? what if you weren’t who he thought you were anymore?
“hey, stop it.” he shook his head, eyebrows furrowing. “it’s just me, y/n. it’s just me and you, okay?”
“but what if we can’t do it?” you asked through a teary sob, scuffing your heels on the hard ground. “what if i’m different and what if it’s too hard? i can’t..i won’t survive it..”
silence once more.
“then, we do it slowly.” he whispered, assured, soothing you. no hesitation whatsoever. “i’m not asking you to trust me overnight, baby. i know i fucked that up already.”
your lip trembled, tears streaming so fast you could hardly keep up.
“but i’m here now.”
the words settled so deeply inside of you that it almost hurt. that was all you had wanted all along, was it not? a present husband, the same man that loved you without the frills of money and presents - you wanted jungkook. your jungkook.
you swallowed thickly, knowing it had taken so much of him to even say this to you, so confident as he knew you needed a rock at this moment despite also being emotionally devastated.
two whole minutes of silence stretched between you as you caught your breath, your tears still streaming but your sobs subsiding, allowing for sweet hiccups that he thought were the cutest thing he had ever heard. his mind swam, aching, knowing how needy you were after a cry. he wanted to bundle you up and hold you, kiss you until there were no more thoughts left in that pretty little head of yours, right until you were finally asleep and safe in his arms.
“are you still at work?” you asked softly, breaking the silence and pulling him out of his thoughts.
a small pause.
then, almost amused - “technically..”
“jungkook! it’s late..”
he laughed quietly under his breath, the sound warm enough to blanket you in it.
“finished hours ago, i’ve just been sat here.”
“doing what?”
another pause. slightly charged.
“looking at you.” he murmured.
heat rushed to your face immediately, wiping your under eyes. “what?”
“been stalking your instagram. yejin posted you like half an hour ago too, so..” his voice dropped lower, smoother. more intimate. “haven’t really thought about doing anything since.”
your thighs pushed together involuntarily at the confession, cheeks hinted even darker.
god.
“jungkook.” you chastised with a little sniffle.
“pink was a bad choice, baby.” he grunted slightly. “you know that colour drives me fucking insane on you.”
your eyes squeezed shut. there he was.
not the cold, mysterious ceo that had the world intrigued, nor the tall, hefty man that had most people cowering away as he walked past. no, this was your husband - flirty, affectionate and completely and utterly obsessed with you.
“you’re so ridiculous.” you shook your head through a hiccup, biting back the pathetic small smile that was about to form.
“yeah?” he hummed through a small laugh. “still answered the phone.”
the smile in his voice only had yours growing larger, a small laugh muffled by the back of your hand.
you could hear him moving around now, keys jingling lightly before the sound of a car door opening had your ears peaking up.
“wait,” your eyebrows raised. “are you leaving?”
“mhm.”
“where are you going?”
jungkook grinned. it was your turn to be curious.
“home.”
your smile dropped slightly. home.. that used to be a word that was synonymous with you. your chest ached all over again.
“couldn’t go back there without hearing your voice first.” he admitted quietly.
silence swallowed you whole. the vulnerability in his voice felt far more dangerous than any of the tears you had shed tonight, your fingers continuing to shake around the phone at the mere sound of it. before you could think of a response, he spoke again.
“there’s a gala next friday.”
your stomach tightened as you leaned your head against the wall, already understanding the direction of the conversation.
“jungkook..”
“come with me.”
no hesitation. no uncertainty.
firm, assured, confident. like there had never even been another concept, or thought in his brain - you were the first and only option.
“i don’t think that’s a good idea..”
“probably not.”
the honesty startled a laugh out of you - a real one. on the other side of the phone, jungkook sat in his car, eyes closed, breathing deeply at the sweet sound like he was memorising it. treasuring it so he could replay it over and over and over later when he laid in your once shared bed alone.
“fuck,” he breathed. “you have no idea how much i’ve missed that.”
your eyes burned once more.
“baby,” his tone gentled again, using the pet name you loved so much. “just one night. me and you.”
you wanted to scream, wanted to pull at your hair and jump all at the same time. of course you wanted to say yes, what more could you need? your ex husband so openly telling you he wanted to pursue you with every inch of his body, until he was nothing but yours to mould and shape.
“i’ll think about it.” you replied instead, nibbling away at your lip.
the grin in his voice was immediate.
“that’s my girl.”
—
you couldn’t breathe.
both physically and emotionally, you found difficulty in inhaling air as you looked at yourself in the mirror, yejin somewhere in the room finding accessories for you to wear all whilst you blinked rapidly.
the dress, although beautiful, felt too tight.
your hands shook on either side of you as she approached you, holding up a delicate diamond necklace you recognised as an anniversary gift jungkook had gotten you but never quite found the chance to wear. your eyes were unfocused as she clasped it onto your neck, watching the way it fell so softly against soft skin, as though it had been curated for you and you alone.
“you need to breathe, y/n.” she suddenly murmured behind you, resting her chin on your shoulder as you both stared at you in the mirror.
pale pink satin - not bright in anyway, but a sweet kiss of your favourite colour adorned your body in floor length, tight fitting dress. you were the embodiment of elegance as the fabric draped over your curves, all whilst cinching perfectly at your waist, allowing for a pretty silhouette. not only did you look the part for a charity gala, you had exceeded any expectation anyone would ever have for you thanks to your best friend’s styling.
“dress is tight.” you simply whispered back, hardly recognising yourself.
your makeup matched your dress. glowy and pink with soft blush dusted onto your cheeks, glossy lips puckered and sweet. your hair fell in waves and for the first time in a very long time, you felt utterly beautiful.
the problem, however, was in the circumstance itself.
you were about to see jungkook for the first time since you had officially walked away from your marriage and the thought had kept you up all week. you weren’t sure what you were thinking actually saying yes to his invitation, calling him to tell you would come only for him to audibly huff out of joy. he was like a child in a candy shop but you couldn’t help but wonder if he harboured the same anxiety.
it was heavy in your stomach as you stared at yourself. pink was your favourite colour, and he loved it on you. did you look pretty enough? all eyes would be on you both tonight, given the nature of your relationship and the almost celebrity like status that had been awarded to the two of you.
all in all, it was his face that had you nibbling your bottom lip in thought. there wasn’t a night where you left his name unsearched in your internet browser, desperate to see what he looked like in that current moment but seeing him in purpose was a whole different playing field.
you loved him in suits - a fitting joy that was awarded to you constantly given his occupation. the way his shoulders would fill out the material so nicely, the way his shirt would stretch over his chest and the way darker colours only brought out the darkness in his eyes - it was your personal kryptonite. you weren’t sure how you were supposed to think, behave even, once you caught got sight of him.
“hey, y/n, look at me.” yejin pulled you out of your thoughts, soft hands pulling at your jaw. “it’s just jungkook. you know him better than anyone, okay? you’re all good.”
you nodded, though you continued to blink at her rapidly. “s’just been so long and..i don’t know..i’m scared. is that weird?”
she offered a sad smile. “it’s been eight months of healing, babe. that love doesn’t just go away and from what you told me, this is a step in the right direction. just gotta let him in.”
before you could respond, the sound of the doorbell blared through the apartment, making you look up to where the door sat on the other side. if you thought your heart had been beating fast before, you were sure you were on the edge of passing out now as yejin mumbled a quick ‘that’ll be him’ beside you.
oh god. oh god. oh god.
the dress felt too tight around your ribs.
your hands smoothed down the satin again despite having done it what felt like a million times already, fingers tips trembling over expensive fabric as your breathing came out shallow. you hated this - hated the fear of it all when it was jungkook on the other side of the door. your jungkook.
eight months. eight whole months and your body still knew him better than your mind was ready to let on.
“y/n.” yejin practically cooed at you, assuring you with a hand on your back. “breathe.”
you nodded quickly, though it went in one ear and out the other.
the intercom buzzed again, impatient time.
ironically, it was this that had your shoulders slumping softly, your shortness of breath slowly soothing as you realised the familiarity of the situation. of course jungkook would buzz twice - it was a telltale sign of his own anxiety, something you could recognise from a mile away. knocking twice, calling your name twice, checking the front door before bed twice.
it was just jungkook.
“okay.” you whispered to yourself.
you turned, more determined now you knew he was in the same state as you, as your heels clicked on the floor of your much smaller apartment, the noise loud enough for him to hear from the outside. each step felt heavier the closer you got, but there sat an anticipation in you that had you almost desperate to see him.
your hand finally wrapped around the handle before you opened the door.
and there he was.
god.
for a moment, your brain completely malfunctioned.
jungkook stood in your hallway beneath the almost dingy apartment lighting, one hand wrapped around a large bouquet of flowers you recognised to be the ones he had been gifting you with continuously for the past few weeks, and every anniversary. white gardenias.
your eyes fell onto them immediately with a strangled gasp, all whilst taking him in, your heart beating out of your chest as you felt almost faint at the sight of him.
a black suit.
the material stretched perfectly across his too broad shoulders and narrow waist, expensive to the eye as you could tell it had been tailored to fit him exactly. the contrast between the white shirt underneath was utterly delicious, and memories of pulling open buttons under heated exchanges flooded your eyes.
his hair was styled almost messily which you immediately recognised as his hands having ran through them, no doubt due to his anxiety - you wanted to pull at his locks, wanted to feel them against your fingers.
it was his face, however, that hurt to look at.
he looked healthier than most of the pictures you had seen over the span of the past few months, with warm in his cheeks, a slight dazed look in his eyes. still tired, with purple underneath his eyes indicating his lack of sleep, still carrying traces of heartbreak you knew you had placed there.
god.
jungkook looked every bit of the man you were in love with.
and here he stood, staring at you like he had just seen heaven open up right in front of him.
neither of you could look away from one another, as his eyes dragged over you slowly, inch by inch. your hair, your neckline that dipped lower than he was used to seeing, your manicure, your beautiful face. jungkook couldn’t fathom that you had once belonged to him, the pain of the past eight months surfacing as it gripped him by the throat like a vice - he had lost you?
you watched his throat bob.
his eyes met yours, the first time in what felt like a lifetime, and neither of you really knew what to do. how was it that the man you had known most of your life, the one constant, felt like a stranger in that moment? it was like you were discovering him again, an opportunity to relearn him presented to you and you took it with both hands.
he let out a shaking breath, one that had your cheeks flushing as he extended his arm, presenting the large bouquet for you.
“you look beautiful.” he whispered, voice struggling almost as you continued to watch his adam’s apple almost entranced.
with a shy thank you, you held them close to your chest, breathing in the familiar scent that brought you so much comfort.
your chest had eased now you were finally looking at him, now that he was actually in your space - the worst was over. you almost felt ridiculous for being worried about seeing him when it was just jungkook. eight months couldn’t erase that familiarity.
the hallway suddenly felt too small. too warm, too intimate; you felt like you were being caved in by his mere presence and for a moment you wondered if you needed breath at all.
you simply stood there, clutching the flowers delicately to your chest as though they meant something so much more than what anyone else could assume all whilst jungkook looked at you like you were the first beautiful thing he had seen in months.
his eyes couldn’t leave your face.
it should have made you uncomfortable, the intensity of his stare, but your body reacted the way it had always done when you were near him. you were inching closer without even realising it, him doing the same until you were looking up, head angled and his downwards, head bent to admire you properly.
“hi.” you whispered again.
the size difference between you had never been more apparent until then, what with all of his strenuous visits to the gym these past few months. he had always towered over you, but it was different now - his already wide chest and broad shoulders engulfed you, his biceps on either side of him enough to have you wanting him in a way that certainly was not becoming of an ex wife.
it’s like he could read your thoughts, with the way he inched closer to you, until your bodies were openly brushing against each other faintly. material on material, fabric kissing fabric. you wished you could feel him on your skin.
the sound of your voice had lulled him gently as he dipped his head down lower so you could properly see him, despite your head back to look at him.
“hi, baby.”
your stomach flipped violently.
there it was again. baby. fuck.
as though the divorce papers were fickle, representing a momentary lapse of judgement instead of a ruling decision. like he still woke up beside you every morning and ruined your cheeks with kisses before falling in between your thighs.
the dazed look on your face didn’t go unnoticed.
before you could even respond, yejin appeared behind you with the biggest smile she could possibly muster.
“oh my god,” she squeaked dramatically. “you both look insane!”
jungkook blinked, momentarily pulled from the emotional spiral you were both taking part in as he straightened slightly, despite still being awfully close to you. your cheeks heated at the sound of her voice, jumping a little in shock, causing you to brush against him faintly.
“hi, yejin.”
“don’t hi yejin me.” she narrowed her eyes dangerously. “if she cries tonight, i’ll kill you.”
“yejin!” you flushed red.
jungkook, however, allowed for a soft smile, nodding once. “fair.”
the sheer sincerity of it made the room go quiet, your eyes meeting his once more. you knew though it was a passing comment, he truly meant it - he’d let her kill him if it meant you’d hurt less.
your chest tightened all over again.
yejin seemed to realise it too, her teasing expression softening at the both of you. idiots in love, both too cautious to know what the correct next step was - thank god she loved to meddle.
“okay! you’re both gonna be late so hurry up.” she hummed, turning you and looking over you for any last minute touch ups. “i’ll take these. i’ll show myself out.”
with a cheeky wink, she all but pushed you backwards towards jungkook where your back gently brushed against his front. she had taken the flowers, shoved your clutch in your hand and shut the door in your face, all after giving you a big grin.
he didn’t move from behind you, despite you turning to properly face him. the two of you stared at one another openly, eyebrows pulling together - you could see it happening in real time, the way his body curled at the mere feel of you. to be so close to you, touching you; it was out of a far away dream.
you felt it too - god, you could feel it in your veins. the horrifying wave of unashamed want that filtered through you so naturally, your body knew him. your body recognised your husband.
your man.
his restraint was palpable. you could see it in the way his fingers flexed on either side of him, almost twitching as muscle memory surfaced from deep inside of him. for years touching you had been second nature, with a hand on your waist, fingers lifting your chin, arms around your figure to hold you up for a kiss.
now he looked almost tortured as he realised he no longer knew what he was allowed to do.
the realisation alone softened you.
“we should go.” you whispered up at him gently, though your voice lacked any real conviction.
jungkook stared at you, offering a small nod almost obediently despite the stark hunger in his eyes.
“yeah.” he cleared his throat. “yeah, okay.”
he stepped back and first; the distance was felt immediately.
you suddenly missed the warmth that radiated off of him, fingers faintly tugging on his suit jacket so gently you weren’t even aware you were doing it. what the fuck was wrong with you? one touch and you were already spiralling into him again like the last eight months had never happened.
jungkook noticed. of course he did.
his chest visibly expanded from beneath the expensive material, eyes darkening so suddenly you felt heat up and down your spine. the way he looked at you had emotion swirling in your stomach, so hungry. so devoted.
you slowly released him, blinking rapidly as though you’d only just realised what you’d done.
“sorry.” you whispered instinctively.
jungkook’s eyebrows furrowed together in offence.
“don’t apologise for touching me.” his voice came out firmer than expected, low. far too intimate given the apartment hallway you were in.
the silence that followed felt thick enough to choke on, neither of you making an effort to move despite knowing you were bordering on being late. the tension was so unbearable now that you were both alone, freely staring at one another after so much time apart - no yejin to soften the edges. just fifteen years worth of tension, want and need all accumulated between you.
his eyes flickered downwards as he watched you sway slightly.
“your heels are insane.” he muttered softly.
you blinked. “hm?”
“you’re already wobbling.”
offended, your mouth gaped. “i am not wobbling!”
jungkook let out a small huff of amusement, loving how easy it was to rile you up. the sound completely disarmed you, seeing a glimpse of the same jungkook you had been with all of your life.
“you almost fell walking out of the door.” he teased, with a tilt to his head downwards at you.
“i did not!” you shook your head with a small swat to his chest. he only let out another laugh. “you literally grabbed onto me.”
“that..doesn’t count, okay?”
“mm.” amusement stretched over his face, as he led you to the staircase, cautious to be slow as he watched you continue to slightly wobble due to the uneven surface of the hallway. “sure.”
before you could even think of a rebuttal, you watched jungkook look down the multiple staircases with a slight frown before turning to you. he suddenly bent at the knees, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion for no longer than two seconds before one arm slid below your knees and the other around your back.
your gasp echoed.
“jungkook!”
he lifted you bridal style effortlessly, as though you weighed truly nothing to him.
your hands immediately flung to the back of his neck, arms wrapping around his shoulders in shock as your body felt more of him than it had done in what felt like eons. jungkook’s hands were so much bigger than yours, and you could feel him everywhere all at once, enough to have you dizzy with a sense of want.
“what are you doing?!” you whispered harshly, eyes blown wide as he sorted you on one single arm, checking his phone for the time with the other. it was beyond easy.
jungkook merely looked down at you calmly, entirely unbothered despite the way you could feel his pulse hammering below your fingertips.
“preventative measures. can’t have you slipping down the stairs.”
you stared at him in disbelief. “you can’t just pick me up!”
he scoffed a little, as though your words were going in one ear and out the other. your comfort came first, that much was ingrained in him and even you couldn’t stop him when it came to that.
he walked down the stairs as though it was the most natural thing in the world, one hand spread wide against your back, claiming whilst the other was hooked under your thighs, making sure you were as comfortable as possible against him. your dress was draped so beautifully over his arm that anyone who would have caught you in that moment would have remarked, ironically, how bridal you looked.
you couldn’t believe how safe he felt.
jungkook noticed the second you relaxed into him. properly.
“missed carrying you.” he admitted quietly as he descended another step.
your entire body burned. “jungkook.” you breathed weakly, though there was no real warning behind your tone.
“what?” he hummed innocently. “s’true.”
you remembered almost fondly - it was the one thing you probably missed more than anything else. he would carry you everywhere - from the bed to your bath, to the couch after you’d woken up, through grocery stores just to hear you squeak in embarrassment. one time he had held you for an hour straight, walking you home after a date just because your feet hurt.
and now, here you were again, tucked into his chest as though it was home. you supposed it was.
your heart ached so violently at the memory that looking up at him through your lashes had your brain whizzing too fast for you to keep up with.
“you’ve gotten so much bigger.” you whispered almost shyly before you could stop yourself, already tucked into him too comfortably.
big mistake.
his heart truly nearly fucking stopped. his head snapped down at you almost instantly, eyes darkening so visibly it had you avoiding any contact, instead focusing your gaze on his clothed pecs.
“yeah?” he asked slowly.
your cheeks were flushed dark, realising how that may have sounded.
“just..got broader.” you clarified through another whisper, wanting nothing more than to hide your face in his neck out of embarrassment.
“been working out a lot more.” he murmured down at you, ducking his head a little so that he could meet your eyes, a small smile forming.
you nibbled your lip with a little nod, fingers brushing against the ends of his hair.
jungkook knew you loved the size difference between you, but it truly didn’t compare to how fucked it made his mind go. it was the first thing he had noticed when you opened the door again - how despite your heels, you were still so much shorter. it drove him insane, especially now that he was bigger. feeling you curled into his chest like this, all safe and protected, it made him feel wanted. to have you notice it, address it even so shyly; fuck. it ruined him.
by the time he had reached the bottom floor, your cheeks were still heated, dreading the fact he would have to let you go when all you wanted was to curl into him even deeper. to think ten minutes ago you had so much anxiety when now, he was actively conversing with you all whilst carrying you, it felt euphoric.
the driver stood outside of the car, the same man who drove you both to events when you were still together. your eyes widened a little as you watched him open the back door for you both, all whilst you were still leisurely held in his arms.
your embarrassment returned instantly.
“put me down!” you hissed quietly.
jungkook looked at you, unaffected. “why?”
“because your driver is literally staring at us, jungkook!”
the poor man looked away with a growing smile. he had missed seeing his boss so carefree, knowing that he was only like this when the situation pertained to you.
he smirked faintly. “he’s driven us around for years, baby. pretty sure he’s seen us do a lot worse.”
your mouth fell open, swatting his chest. “jungkook!”
that finally earned you a proper smile, brief but enough to knock the very air out of your lungs, your too large eyes drinking it in almost desperately. he was so handsome it hurt, and it wasn’t until now you realised how much you had missed his smile.
carefully, he gently lowered you to the ground, making sure you were comfortable on your feet.
his hands lingered. neither of you moved.
your faces were suddenly so close once more as your hands had slid down from his neck, but remained in contact, fingers digging into his chest faintly to feel him. the city noise faded around you and into the background as he looked down at you with an emotion that could only be classed as longing.
“you good?” he asked softly.
you nodded too quickly. “mhm.”
liar.
his eyes dropped to your lips once more, eyeing the gloss almost hungrily - would it taste like the strawberry you always applied? sometimes, when he closed his eyes, he’d remember the flavour.
then, like he had to physically pull himself back, he stepped closer to the car and gestured to it slowly.
“after you.”
you slid into the backseat first, smoothening your dress as it rode up your body, all whilst your pulse hammered harshly.
the interior of the car was sleek, donned in a luxurious black leather whilst it remained dimly lit in the back, with enough enough space to stretch out your legs. the scent of jungkook’s cologne was addicting, and you immediately recognised it to be the one you had bought him on your last anniversary together, your heart fluttering at the thought.
once he climbed in beside you, you realised how intimate the space actually was.
jungkook sat close enough for his thigh to brush against yours, broad shoulders taking up far too much room whilst the driver shut the door quietly behind him.
neither of you acknowledged the contact. it somehow made it worse.
it wasn’t until the divider between the front and the back began slowly sliding upwards, offering a layer of privacy that your breath caught audibly.
jungkook noticed - of course he fucking noticed. he couldn’t stop staring at you, especially now that he had you trapped here, pushed against him like you belonged with a drive ahead of you. god, the things he wanted to do to you in this dress were sinful at best, but he had to practise restraint, no matter how much it took out of him.
he leaned back, one arm sliding over to the top of your seat, where although he wasn’t touching you, you slyly leaned in just to have more of his warmth. it felt so familiar, so nauseatingly natural that anything other would have felt wrong.
he watched as your thighs pressed together.
fuck.
“you nervous?” he asked in his low voice, jaw ticking.
your eyes slowly shifted, finally meeting his gaze. through a shaky laugh, one without humour, you nodded. “obviously.”
he softened at that, sharpness melting away to reveal the tenderness below.
“it’s just me, y/n.”
you felt so hyperaware of everything. the rain that tapped softly against the tinted windows, and the gentle purr of the car engine beneath you. the feel of jungkook’s thigh soothed you, whilst his heavy gaze unnerved you - a cocktail mix that felt so entirely him.
you could feel his eyes on you before you even looked up. once you did, your breath caught at the intensity of his stare - not polite. certainly not subtle. his gaze moved over you, up and down, like he couldn’t help himself, like he he’d been trying to hold back the second you opened up the door to your apartment.
“fuck.” he muttered under his breath.
your cheeks flushed pink, whispering his name.
you watched his eyes flush down your body, eyes stuck on your cleavage and the way the material clung to your hips. “look at you.”
you instinctively looked down, shy at the attention but you couldn’t help but crave it. you knew exactly how obsessive jungkook was when it came to you, knew how deeply infatuated he was with every inch of you but seeing it so closely after so long almost felt soothing. it was a reminder that though everything had changed, somethings stayed the same.
his hand moved before you could think too hard about it, cupping under your chin and tilting your face upwards.
“don’t hide from me.”
your stomach tightened, eyelids hooded.
this thumb brushed against your jaw once, so soft, so unbelieving that you were in his arms despite the fact you technically weren’t his anymore. not that he believed that.
“i can’t stop looking at you.” he admitted, tone rougher now. “been trying since you opened the door, but it’s impossible.”
your thighs pressed together immediately, his gaze dropping to the small action. the reaction was subtle, but there - he noticed everything when it came to you.
you suddenly felt so warm.
“you’re staring so hard.” you murmured nervously, fingers twisting together in your lap.
“because you’re driving me fucking crazy.”
the words came out so plainly your eyes widened.
jungkook exhaled sharply through his nose, head tipping backwards against his seat all whilst you watched with heavy breath. the far gone part of your mind wanted to track his neck, trace his adam’s apple with your fingers all so he could continue looking at you the way he had been.
he looked devastating like this - broad thighs spread in the backseat with your body pressed against him, his arm slung heavy on the head of your seat. the both of you were a mess for one another, sick in the head with infatuation.
you weren’t stupid. you knew your effect on him, perhaps not to the full extent, but enough to know that nearly a year’s distance between you was enough to drive a man like him insane. his hand dragged over his face with a quiet groan before adjusting himself slightly over his suit trousers.
your eyes flickered downwards before you could stop yourself.
jungkook smiled at the sound of your quiet giggle as you put a hand over your mouth to muffle it, looking up to meet his gaze after noticing he was half hard. all you had done was exist.
“yeah,” he murmured, the sound of your laugh blooming in his chest. “that’s your fault.”
you slapped his thigh gently, although you couldn’t hold back on the continuous giggles that were now leaving you as you felt lighter than you had in what felt like years. he too matched you, the intensity lightening up massively as he let out a quiet laugh despite himself.
“what’d you expect, hm?” he asked, voice soft. “i haven’t seen you in eight months, and now you’re sat next to me looking like this. wearing pink.”
his hand slowly slid over, brushing against your own, fingertips grazing your skin before he intertwined them, gently.
you let him.
the second you curled your hand into his yourself, his expression changed. up until now, it was him losing control, reigning himself in, biting himself down to make sure you were as comfortable as possible but fuck. you were the one touching him now, making sure he could see you intertwine your hands properly, squeezing his hand.
it felt like a confirmation that this was the beginning of a new chapter.
he wanted to scream, to yell on the top of his lungs at the thought of you openly showing him your willingness. his sweet, angel girl; he loved you more than words could describe and he wanted to spend the rest of his life showing you.
“missed this,” he admitted quietly, eyes on your much smaller hand holding his so intimately. “missed you touching me.”
your eyes burned suddenly.
jungkook noticed immediately with a frown, expression softening at the edges.
“hey, baby.” his thumb brushed yours. “don’t cry.”
“m’not crying.” you whispered, though your voice wobbled embarrassingly.
he held you close to him as you both remained quiet for the rest of the journey, though the silence felt welcomed after such a rush and mix of emotions. you had gone from anxiety, to confusion, to excitement, to warmth, to a painful reminder of what once was - it was enough to drive you insane. being around him hurt, but being near him was healing.
rain continued to pitter patter outside as your hands remained intertwined, his fingers gently brushing against yours as he sat there trying to fathom how this was real. you were letting him in, and he could see it, could see how much it was taking out of you and he’d be damned if he fucked it up again. to get a second chance was insanity alone, but to have it with you?
the car began slowing down.
through the tinted windows, you could see a flash of white, people trying to get a glimpse of the elusive ceo they were so obsessed with. you gulped as you watched other powerful business people walk in with their dates, models and celebrities lining up to have their picture taken.
you leaned into him almost immediately.
jungkook held onto you tightly, arm sliding over your waist and gently squeezing. “i’m here. stay by me.”
you nodded quickly, dazed. “okay.”
his eyes lingered on your face for a second too long before he muttered under his breath, almost like he couldn’t help himself. “you look so fucking pretty.”
your heart nearly stopped, meeting his gaze as your shoulders slumped, feeling calm through his sweet words.
the car door opened.
chaos.
jungkook stepped out first and the reaction was everything you had expected and somehow so much more. your eyes blinked as you watched the cameras explode violently, reporters shouting his name from all directions as they desperately tried to get a clear shot of him, knowing he could easily make front page news without having to try.
your heart stopped for a moment.
his back faced everyone else as he turned to you, taking a hold of your hands once more and gently helping you out of the car, smoothening your dress.
the second they saw you? everything multiplied by ten.
genuine screaming was heard from somewhere behind the barricades as you slowly stepped out, your own hand finding jungkook’s for a sense of comfort which he readily gave you, pulling you in a little closer than necessary. the noise was erupting, your vision blinded momentarily by the insane flashes, reports actually tripping over one another to take pictures of you in particular.
this wasn’t normal.
jeon jungkook never brought women anywhere. never entertained rumours, never dated publicly, never stood beside any other woman that hadn’t been you. even then, you had been painfully private, making sure to attend closed events with rare appearances, often opting to support in the shadows as opposed to centre stage as he was forced to.
but now? this was the loudest statement you could have possibly made and it slowly dawned on you both the nature of the decision.
you were telling the world you were ready to start again.
his entire demeanour had changed out here.
you were overwhelmed to say the least, but it was his arms around you that kept you grounded as you clung to him, your smaller frame tucked so delicately within his own that some found themselves putting their cameras down just so they could observe you both.
you were the epitome of love and neither of you even knew it.
ceo jungkook - all cold eyes, sharp jaw, that terrifying calmness. yet every few seconds he ducked his head down, whispering something in your ear that would have you smiling almost shyly back up at him, easing your mind away from the hundreds of people who wanted nothing more than to get a picture of you.
“jungkook over here!”
“is that your ex-wife?”
“are you two back together?!”
“y/n!”
you flinched slightly as the voices got louder the closer you walked down the carpet towards the venue, but it seemed jungkook’s presence only felt bigger.
“don’t look at them.” he whispered down into your ear, words tucked for you and you alone. “look at me.”
stupidly enough, you obeyed almost instantly. his eyes softened at the way you listened so sweetly.
“good girl.” he muttered absentmindedly before guiding you to the entrance and away from the prying eyes outside.
the words hit you far harder than they should have. good girl.
oh you were so fucked.
—
the venue was utterly breathtaking.
golden lighting spilled across towering ceilings whilst soft music played from a live orchestra at one side of the ballroom, so elegant you’re indeed whether you were even appropriately dressed. people stared at you openly, all whilst you and your flushed cheeks looked away, purposefully keeping your gaze vague and avoiding eye contact with most. glasses clinked together as powerful figures mingled amongst themselves, professional cameras still set up inside.
and yet, none of it compared to the way people reacted to jungkook.
conversations paused when he walked by, people straightening up. executives who had once terrified you now looked nervous approaching him and it reminded you exactly who he was outside of your relationship.
jeon jungkook was a terrifyingly cold, business man. he was untouchable and unfeeling, everything that made a powerful man powerful and then there was you. his one weakness.
his hand remained firm against the small of your back possessively, claiming you as his own in front of anyone who could see. you loved when he was like this, all brooding and dark as though anyone even had a chance to steal him from you - silly man. even now, with months of distance between you and a divorce, you were all his.
“breathe, baby.” he reminded with a quiet hum in your ear.
“i am breathing.” your cheeks warmed.
“barely.”
you shot him a look, though it was void of any real annoyance as he guided you further into the room. you couldn’t help but admire him openly, all whilst he scanned the room, not realising how deep you were falling into your own thoughts. he really had gotten so much bigger, with his chest so wide you couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like under your hands. his shoulders too.
you had spent the entire drive trying not to stare at him. you had failed. miserably.
“drink?”
he pulled you out of your thoughts with a little gasp, realising you had been openly checking him out much to his pleasure. you found yourself nodding, nibbling away at your lip. “yes please.”
the words came out too fast, awarding you with a small laugh as he turned towards the bar.
your eyes followed him automatically.
that was another problem entirely. you see, no matter where jungkook stood, attention naturally followed. men greeted him immediately, keen to get into his good books whilst women openly stared, hoping to garner his fancy and yet he was completely and entirely uninterested. his gaze flickered back to you every few moments, as though he still couldn’t believe you were right there, just for him. just because he had asked you to come.
your chest squeezed painfully at the thought.
he returned only a few moments later with two champagne glasses, handing you yours to which you took with a nervous smile.
“thank you.”
your fingers brushed his purposefully. small, barely noticeable.
oh, but how jungkook had noticed. he noticed everything when it came to you and judging from the way his throat bobbed, taking a large sip of his drink, you knew that your poor ex husband was certainly not able to handle your charm.
the champagne helped much quicker than you were expecting it to.
after the first glass, the tension in your shoulders completely eased but it was the second that had you transforming. your overthinking thoughts ceased to exist, as the warmth in your blood brought out a shade of pink in your face that jungkook couldn’t look away from. standing close to him suddenly felt less terrifying and so much more thrilling.
a dangerous combination - especially when jungkook was looking at you with so much hunger.
a buzz had settled deep into your bloodstream, your brain slightly away with the fairies as you continued to sip, looking up at him. your other hand darted out, fingers trailing over his stomach openly, over to where the buttons of his suit sat. what was an absentminded action to you, tipsy, was enough to have jungkook almost shaking.
you were braver when you had alcohol in you, that much had been true your entire relationship, but even this felt quite insane. he watched as your fingers trailed up and down, sliding up to where his chest was only to drop lower and lower. it wasn’t until your fingertips were brushing the top of his suit trousers that he grabbed your hand.
you pouted at him, head tilted. “why?”
your whine had his shoulders rolling.
“because,” he said slowly, voice rough beneath the sound of the orchestra. “you’re getting handsy.”
your lips patted in faux innocence. “am not.”
jungkook stared at you half in disbelief and other half amusement, still holding your hand that he now pressed to his chest firmly. your fingers had nearly slipped below his waistband, a thought that had him nearly taking you home then and there but he knew it was because the alcohol was making you brave - his tipsy girl. his palm engulfed yours, feeling your fingers wriggle underneath to continue your plans with a slight whine but he was both firm and possessive, not letting you go.
you pressed your thighs together again.
this was the champagne.
he knew it, knew it to be a dangerous mix - the alcohol and your naturally clingy personality once you got comfortable, all combined with the eight months apart meant you were now simply doing whatever your heart wanted with little care to your mind.
your cheeks warmed as you watched him stare down at you, gaze heavier than anything all evening. it seemed the longer you were both in each other’s presence, despite how long you’d spent apart, the more bold you were getting - but could you be blamed? he might have been your ex husband but he still belonged to you, and you knew you were still entirely his, a fucked up fact that meant you were both drawn to each other in ways that meant you could never move on.
multiple months of healing all gone to shit in a single night, with a few drinks. who were you both kidding - moving on wasn’t an option. even you could see that now.
your fingers flexed under his hold, people secretly watching you both interact with bated breath. they couldn’t believe this was the same jungkook they were afraid of, made to mush at the hands of the pretty woman in front of him. he was but a man afterall.
rather than pulling away, your fingers simply curled around the fabric of his suit jacket, fingers touching his shirt purposefully to elicit another reaction out of him. he had reduced you to putty in the drive over and perhaps it was the alcohol in your system, but you wanted him to feel the same.
jungkook was quiet. too quiet.
jaw slightly slack as he took you in, you touching him like his body belonged to you and you alone. he relished in the fact you knew it just as well as he did.
he had missed this so much. just the feel of you, no matter how innocent you pretended to be, skin on skin. it felt like a promise.
and now, you were standing here, head tilted to stare up at him properly whilst looking through pretty lashes that batted at him subconsciously.
it was driving him insane.
“you’re staring again.” you hummed at him. his eyebrows narrowed. “because you keep touching me.”
you tried to bite down the smile that began to form on your lips as your fingers continued to flex, soon finding his heartbeat to confirm your suspicious. oh, he was a mess underneath your hand.
“you don’t seem to mind.”
his jaw flexed. you heard him curse under his breath, calling you a fucking minx which only had you giggling just as quietly. it was a powerful thing to have a man as influential as jungkook so weak in the knees for you, and you couldn’t deny the affect it was having on your mind. he snaked a heavy arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him in a way that was absolutely not becoming of the environment you were in.
“keep this shit up and i’ll take you home.” he promised quietly, leaning down to whisper into your ear.
unfortunately for him, you had no intention of stopping. especially when you had just begun.
“promise?” you whispered back, eyes wide with a faux innocence you knew he wanted to ruin.
his jaw clenched again, blood half boiling at how cheeky you were being and cock hardening by how badly he wanted to ruin you. had this been any other circumstance, you’d already be in the bathroom with your dress to your chest, being pounded into by the only man who knew exactly how to ruin you until you were well bred.
but alas - this night was about proving himself to you, and no matter how hard you made him, he knew he had to do this right.
and so, instead, he pinched you at your waist slightly, pulling an airless squeak out of you before he brushed his lips against your ear.
“behave.”
the word should have been warning enough, but instead, warmth fluttered through you, rushing through your stomach so violently you pressed against him further. jungkook nearly hissed, watching how reactive you were for him, with your hooded eyes and slack jaw.
fuck.
his hands were all over you, with little care to who was watching and you knew tomorrow you’d be mortified when you remembered how brazen you had both been, but it was hard not to feel addicted when you were both feeling the same way. you giggled lightly, hiding your face in his chest momentarily before meeting his gaze.
“you’re very confident for someone i divorced.” you playfully hummed.
at that, he couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face. “didn’t stop you from getting your pretty hands all over me.”
the alcohol was well into your system as you found yourself giggling once more, fully hiding yourself in his chest to which he wrapped his arms around you properly, the two of you whispering and laughing together as though it was the most natural thing in the world. jungkook’s colleagues, rivals and admirers all watched you both in genuine curiosity at the way you were so well suited. two people, quietly infatuated with one another - it was toothache inducing.
the conversation between you both remained playful, with his thumb tracing your bottom lip at one point muttering something about how badly he wanted to know how your lip gloss tasted. an hour in and you were both practically trying to one up each other with how far you could take it, leaving you both laughing whilst trying to stay quiet.
this is what you had missed. joy. comfort. being around him in a way that didn’t feel like you were fighting to prove something. it had been so long since you’d felt this carefree that you realised pretty quickly that you couldn’t let him ago again. it was a horrible thought at first, realising that the past few months may have been for naught but perhaps absence did make the heart fonder.
soon enough, you had been there close enough two hours and jungkook had done the rounds once you settled in, less tipsy but still buzzed. you met his new business partners, clients you hadn’t seen in a while, a mixture of familiar faces and people you had only ever heard about. neither of you commented on the fact he introduced you intimately, with a heavy arm around your waist.
it genuinely felt like no time had past with the way you both felt so comfortable, the dynamics between you natural considering he had been the one constant in your life for the past fifteen years. you sipped on your glass of water as you listened to his conversation half mindedly, watching him discuss a new company contract with one of his shareholders.
it wasn’t until you heard a voice echo throughout the ballroom announcing the beginning of the charity auction that the conversation came to an end. jungkook immediately took a hold of your hand, planting a cheeky kiss to your knuckles with a slight smirk, before leading you towards the front of the room where the different things on auction sat to be admired over.
“c’mon.”
you followed him easily, hands intertwined whilst you walked side by side, champagne now a dull buzz in your body. people moved around you respectfully, all whilst their eyes lingered on you much longer than needed. could you blame them? you were the infamous woman that had managed to lock down the one man that seemed disinterested in everything, so much so that you had him laughing and flushing pink every time you so much as looked at him. the divorced couple that looked anything but divorced.
oh, they were staring indeed, with hushed whispers and even quieter questions.
your attention drifted lazily over the displayed pieces, politely but nothing quite caught your interest, your eyebrows pulling up at some of the art pieces named. it wasn’t until you reached the very end that you found yourself stopped in your tracks.
jungkook noticed, he too coming to a stop to glance over at you only for his gaze to follow yours. he immediately understood.
beneath warm lighting sat a painting, inconspicuous to most considering it was much smaller than the grand pieces to the left, but it had your eyelashes fluttering
white gardenias.
your breath left you quietly.
it wasn’t just flowers - it was an oil painting, textured with strokes of green, ivory and creams whilst petals cascaded over one another so delicately your heart ached. the background dat moodier, darker compared to the softness of the flower leaving you in a state of utter awe for a few moments, all whilst holding the hand of your ex-husband who watched you with bated breath.
it was beautiful.
you stepped closer unconsciously, hardly aware of yourself.
jungkook didn’t think he’d ever seen you look at something with this much wonder, in all of the years he had known you. it did something to him, to watch you genuinely in awe at something he could so easily give you - it made him realise he needed provide it for you just to see that look again and again and again and again and again.
he felt this throat tighten, a harsh lump forming the longer he watched you admire it. the way your glossy lips parted, eyes widened and fingers tracing the air in front of it - donned in the same diamond necklace he had gotten you years prior. the same necklace he’d bought you after you murmured something about diamonds resembling stars late one night as you curled into him in your shared bed.
and here you were, wearing it, all whilst your hand curled inside his as though you had never been more at peace. that did something to him. something he couldn’t quite describe.
your fingers moved to brush over the small description plaque underneath, reading the inspiration for the piece with a small, choked huff - devotion. enduring, eternal love through trial and tribulation through each season of life.
your own throat tightened then. of course.
“gardenias are difficult flowers..they die so easily if you don’t take care of them.” you found yourself whispering; straightening your back and avoiding his gaze to bite back any tears that wanted to appear.
his chest tightened violently.
all he could think about was the little apartment you had both shared when you were younger, when he barely had any money to get you by each month. the one with the poor lighting and the janky sink - you used to sit by the window each morning whilst he got ready for work, whispering sweet things down at them because you believed it would help them grow.
he remembered every single detail.
“you kept yours alive for months.” he whispered back, the hand that was clasped in yours now intertwining your fingers, as though he could project his memories back to you.
you blinked back at him, eyes glassy, surprised slightly. you hadn’t expected him to remember something so small and insignificant.
how could jungkook could ever forget a single thing about you?
a small smile pulled at your lips. “i used to get upset whenever they’d lose petals.”
“you cried once.” he corrected.
you rolled your eyes. “shut up!”
he only shrugged, lips twitching. “had to console you all night.”
“i thought i killed it!”
his quiet laugh nearly knocked the air from your lungs, all whilst he pulled you back into him, breathing in the scent from your hair before taking you to your shared table, where the auction was about to begin. your fingers remained curled around his own, all whilst he helped you sit down, fixing your dress for you.
he physically couldn’t pull away from you, couldn’t stop touching you even as you began conversing to the woman beside you, who jungkook recognised as one of his shareholders. his thigh was pressed against yours, all whilst his hand sat heavy in your lap, both of your hands playing with his fingers absentmindedly.
the different items came on stage as you watched people bid, raising their panels whilst some shouted out their numbers for more exclusive pieces. you couldn’t help your giggles, leaning over to whisper in jungkook’s ear whenever you’d see more excited people, all for him to lean into you with an equal smile. the two of you were being silly, and it felt fun for once.
by the time the gardenia painting finally appeared, your posture straightened as you tapped on his hand with a wiggle of your eyebrows. jungkook watched you with a lazy grin, eyes flicking over your face.
cute.
the bidding started much lower than you expected, causing you to frown. “that’s it?”
he nearly laughed, seeing your passion for your flowers. “art’s subjective, baby.”
“yeah, well everyone is wrong..so.”
fuck. he loved you so much.
you watched as someone raised their paddle, and then another, and another. a bidding war began as your head bounced between people, watching in utter curiosity though a part of you wondered what it would be like to bid yourself. ironically for you, you were completely unaware of the man beside you staring at your profile like he wanted to devote the rest of his life to you.
“two million.”
your eyebrows raised.
“two and a half!” someone else shouted, causing you to play with his fingers a little faster almost out of excitement.
“hope someone who actually appreciates it gets it.” you leaned over to whisper into his ear, lips brushing against his cheek in the process.
his jaw ticked.
game on.
just as someone shouted out, claiming three million, jungkook ran a hand through his hair before raising his panel, dark eyes trained on the auctioneer.
“five million.”
your head snapped sideways so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash, all whilst jungkook sat completely calm, hand raised lazily as though this was easy. like he hadn’t just dropped five million as though it was nothing.
“jungkook!” you whispered, eyes wide. he merely hummed back at you, hand still intertwined with yours. “hm?”
“what are you doing?!”
“getting you your painting.”
you stared at him in disbelief.
across the room, multiple people were openly whispering now, glancing between you because everyone could recognise what was exactly happening. this wasn’t ego - this was love.
obsessive, and terrifying love.
another bidder raised their paddle almost nervously, calling out a measly “five and a half” after a moment of hesitation.
“seven million.”
an audible murmur fluttered through the room just as you grabbed onto his arm with a large gasp, eyes widening as though he was batshit insane. “jungkook, stop!”
he finally looked at you, small smile playing on his lips at the sight of you so shocked. it was so cute the way you were practically toppling over your seat, a reminder that despite being with him, you had never really dabbled in his wealth whatsoever despite it all belonging to you.
a large shout of ‘sold’ was heard by all, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him. his eyes admired you, from your lips to your eyes, your shaking hands that were both clinging to his thigh, your cleavage that had dipped even further than earlier. fuck. you were the epitome of everything he had ever wanted.
“you wanted it.” he whispered to you, as though that was all he needed, as though it was enough of a reason to spend seven million in one night with a flick of his wrist.
your eyes near enough watered at his words, knowing that nothing had ever described jungkook better.
—
things between you and jungkook had settled into something dangerous.
not enough to call yourselves fixed, or enough to place a label onto whatever fragile thing had formed between you, but enough that your days seemed lighter. having him back in your life meant you were happy again, and actually excited - finally feeling whole in ways that no one else quite understood.
he called more often now.
what started off as phone calls sometimes briefly between meetings, something about using your voice to destress before important gatherings. they quickly turned to late night facetimes where both of you laid in bed, half naked, chatting until either of you would fall asleep. some nights they turned into something darker, dirtier, with a slip of your night dress to show him more all whilst he’d grunt and hiss at the sight, whispering all of the things he wanted to do to you.
it was beginning to feel domestic, familiar even. so terrifyingly easy.
you realised pretty quickly that somewhere along the way, between late night conversations and soft laughs exchanged, you had began falling deeply in love again.
hard.
he had been away on business ever since the gala a few weeks ago, with him currently stationed in hong kong over some important stakeholder meetings. you knew he was incredibly stressed over it, given the frequency of his calls - always at odd times during the day and night, sometimes with the intention of just looking at your face as though it was the only motivator he needed.
the time difference was more irritating than you had expected, and yet he still managed to find a way to accommodate to your schedule as opposed to his.
your favourite so far had been a simple picture of the skyline view from his hotel, taken at three am with a caption of ‘wish you were here.’
you hated how much those four words affected you.
pathetic, really. how even now, you’d kick your feet in excitement over any message sent from your ex husband.
it had become routine now, to expect messages from him with each waking moment, calls when the workload was heavier. perhaps that was exactly why the silence that afternoon felt so particularly loud.
you were curled into your couch, opting to work from home as you were in his jumper and a pair of flimsy shorts. you hummed quietly as you balanced your laptop on your thighs, all whilst a random entertainment news channel played in the back to offer some noise in your otherwise quiet apartment.
your ears perked up once you heard jungkook’s name somewhere in the background.
your attention barely lifted at first, no doubt another gossip sesh on how attractive he was which often made you giggle, but this felt different.
“ceo jeon jungkook spotted in hong kong alongside mystery woman-“
your stomach dropped.
the laptop slipped from your thighs and onto the couch cushion, all whilst your head snapped towards the television, reaching for the remote to turn it up. the image splashed across the screen, all whilst you sat there, smaller than anything, watching.
jungkook.
beside him, an undeniably beautiful woman.
she was tall, elegant, dressed sharply in a suit practically created for her whilst cameras flashed at them harshly, exiting a building together. the headline underneath made your chest cave in further.
‘global heartthrob ceo finally moving on after the divorce?’
you stared. and stared, and stared, and stared, and stared, and stared until your knees had slowly slid to the ground, your back touching the couch whilst the entertainment show droned on and on about the details of your relationship with jungkook, about how smitten you had both seen at the gala, how they were the first to break this exclusive news.
your brain knew better. you knew jungkook like the back of your hand and logically, you fucking knew better. jungkook was so many things, but he had always placed you and your emotions first, your priorities, your necessities, your life - your wants and needs transcended everything else. you had never asked for it to be this way, it was just the way he was.
even during your separation, he had never looked at a woman twice. you knew that.
but logic had never been able to defeat insecurity.
all you could think, all you could see, based off of a single image was how she fit beside him. how effortless it looked, how beautiful she was, how successful. so poised and polished - she was everything a woman who stood beside jungkook ought to have been and it was killing you in real time.
the worst thing of all was the realisation that he didn’t belong to you.
all of this emotion, this horrible feeling inside your chest and soul - you were the one to divorce him. you had been the one that demanded it end back then, no matter how much he had begged you to see reason, believing that it was the correct step forward for the both of you. he had every right to move onto someone else, had every right to actually step forward towards something new.
and yet the thought of him belonging to someone else felt the closest to grief you had ever felt in your life.
your phone rang violently loud beside you, droning out the words of the presenter and making you jump slightly.
jungkook.
your eyes burned instantly.
the phone continued to ring and ring across the sofa cushion as you stared at his contact picture, a photo taken on your anniversary a few years ago that you could never bring yourself to change. your chest rose unevenly as another harsh wave of emotion hit you.
you couldn’t do this.
not after you had spent the past few months trying not to think about him, only for him to come back into your life.
the call rang out.
then another came. and another. and another.
your phone was blowing up with a mixture of calls and messages, each vibration making your heart ache so much worse as the topic changed on the tv, talking about some other celebrity gossip all whilst you felt your entire life collapse before your very eyes.
with shaking hands and teary orbs, you turned your phone off.
you burst into tears.
the rest of the day was spent being utterly miserable. you had never felt so pathetic in all of your life, with pain running up and down your veins in a way that genuinely left you almost debilitated. the last time you were this heartbroken, you were a fresh divorcee.
the curtains remained shut despite the afternoon sun outside, your apartment dim besides the soft flicker of the television that continued playing mindlessly in the background. at some point, you had dragged yourself towards your bed with tears still streaming down your face, his oversized jumper now heavy on your frame.
you hated this version of yourself.
hated how deeply this had affected you despite knowing better. you knew him better than this, had enough trust in him and yet you couldn’t barter with what was directly in front of you - months after rebuilding a sense of confidence all for it to shatter over one measly, gossip channel.
you closed your eyes, images of the beautiful woman stood beside him flooding your mind causing you to open them up again with a quiet whimper. so composed and effortless. untouched by the devastation eating you alive.
by morning, your chest was in genuine pain.
you looked awful too.
your eyes were swollen, red with the continuous tears all night whilst your skin felt sunken and dull, the early morning sun hitting your skin from glimpses through your blinds. you forced yourself out of your bed and into your shower, trying to rid the plaguing thoughts out of your body. you failed, spending the majority of it quietly crying.
by the time you were in the living room again, your nose was just as pink as your eyes, hands shaky and body adorned in an old t-shirt you had secretly stolen from his wardrobe back when you were packing to leave. you curled weakly into the couch, blanket curled onto your legs as you begged your body to rid the horrible stomach ache that had now found home inside you.
your phone remained switched off, somewhere under the blanket, still left there from yesterday. you reached for the remote.
you just wanted mindless noise.
instead, the television flickered to life and you found your breath catching harshly for the umpteenth time within 24 hours.
breaking news banners on every channel you came across.
jeon jungkook.
a whimper pulled up out of your throat at the sight of his images everywhere, your fingers tightening around the blanket before you turned the volume up.
“the ceo has officially filed legal proceedings against multiple media outlets this morning following yesterday’s false dating allegations-“
your heartbeat began thundering. you sat up immediately.
another clip appeared instantly, reporters practically tripping over one another in front of jungkook’s main company building, cameras flashing in hopes of getting a picture of anyone who could answer for anything.
“the statement released by jeon jungkook’s legal team less than half an hour ago reads as follows-“
the screen shifted, and suddenly, there it was. cold white text against a black background that had your breathing stopping completely.
“the allegations regarding ceo jeon jungkook are entirely false. the individual photographed was present for a scheduled business meeting attended by multiple executives and investors. legal action will be taken against all parties responsible for the deliberate spread of false information and invasion of privacy.”
your throat tightened harshly.
your eyebrows furrowed as you watched the presenter stop, looking at the camera momentarily, before her voice completely softened.
“as for the final portion of the statement, many online are expressing surprise regarding the unusually personal nature of his response as he personally commented-“
more text appeared.
you scanned it once. twice.
over and over and over until a harsh sob was ripped from your lips.
“i have never entertained nor pursued any romantic involvement with anyone.
there has only ever been one woman.”
a broken sound tore from your throat as your hand flew to your mouth, fresh tears spilling from eyes so fast that you couldn’t see the tv. your heart felt like it had been picked up from the ground, cradled and cherished after being pierced over and over all night, attacked without any reprise.
you couldn’t believe what you were reading.
jungkook, your jungkook? so private and reserved, not willing to give one inch of himself to anyone other than you and yet here he was, making himself as clear as possible. he was telling everyone with ears that you were his but more importantly, he belonged to you and you alone.
he despised media attention, it truly was the one thing he hated more than anything and the both of you would often laugh at rumours and random things stated in the tabloids because they were all bullshit.
and yet he has made a statement publicly.
for you.
your chest cracked at the thought as you covered your face with both hands, sobbing harder and harder.
before you could wallow further, a loud banging erupted from the front door.
the sound tore so violently through the apartment, you jumped - startled on the couch whilst your heart leapt to your throat. the slight fear had your tears stopping immediately, allowing for enough of a shock to regulate your mind for a few moments.
another knock came before you could even process it. louder, and louder, and louder.
“baby!”
your breath hitched painfully.
jungkook?
his voice sounded wrecked. not the calm, controlled man the world knew, nor the eerie ceo who often stood emotionless in front of the cameras whilst deals worth billions sat heavy on his shoulders. this was your jungkook - the one who loved you much too hard, half unravelled whenever the conversation pertained to you.
“open the door.” he shouted again, along another collective banging. his voice cracked slightly. “please..”
you stared into space for just a moment, your mind unable to comprehend what was happening before your legs carried you to the door, through the hallway. you slipped on your blanket slightly, already shaking body weaker than usual given the past twenty four hours, all whilst hot, heavy tears burned in your eyes once more.
another knock.
“baby, c’mon..”
the second your shaking hands unlocked the door, it swung open hard enough to hit the wall behind it, as though jungkook couldn’t believe you had actually heard him.
he looked utterly destroyed.
he stood, still in a suit that now sat disheveled on his frame, black tie loosened around his throat, white shirt wrinkled as though he had been in it for hours. his usually pushed back hair was messy, pulled at and tugged through large hands any time he had realised the depths of emotion you were no doubt feeling looking at the news - if the shoe was on the other foot, and jungkook had seen news of you and another man; he would’ve happily burnt the world to a crisp.
the second he saw you, his entire face fell apart, anger long dissipating.
“fuck.” he whispered, heaving out a breath.
his oversized shirt sat on your body, engulfing your smaller frame, swallowing you whole in a way that had his breath taken away. it was your eyes that broke him, however, as they looked so swollen, no doubt from crying so hard, your cheeks still damp and lips still quivering enough that he watched you bite down on them.
you watched his throat bob harshly, watched his eyes flicker over yourself frantically like he was trying to assess how badly you had been hurting without him here to comfort you. the thought terrified him.
that was all it took for a sob to rip out of your chest so painfully your knees almost buckled. your hands flew up to your face.
immediately, his arms shot out, cradling you almost harshly to him with one large arm completely covering you whilst his large hand pressed against the back of your head, holding you close to him as though this was the only remedy for a situation like this. his sweet girl. his sweet, sweet girl.
“i called you for nineteen fucking hours.” he said, eyes darting down at you desperately.
you couldn’t stop crying. “i know.”
“your phone was off.” his voice broke slightly, as though the situation had hurt him beyond words. “that scared me, y/n.” he admitted, chest heaving a little.
your crying only worsened immediately because of course it scared him - jeon jungkook, a man who’s entire identity was you and you alone. the prospect of losing you for the second time would surely be enough to kill him, and yet answering his calls felt like the last thing you could bring yourself to do.
“i tried not to think like that,” you choked out through hiccups. “i know you wouldn’t, logically i know but just kept seeing the pictures of you beside her and..”
your chest was heaving.
“stop talking about her.”
the words came out sharp, almost harsh.
his hand slipped to cup your face, holding your jaw in place whilst his arm slipped down, cupping your body to him so you could rest, his own strength supporting you up. his eyes were wild.
“don’t,” he repeated quieter, chest rising and falling. “don’t..stand here and..fuck, don’t compare yourself to someone else for even a second over some shitty tabloid.”
you couldn’t stop crying. it was as though that was all you could do.
“jungkook..”
“no.” he cut in immediately, voice cracking at the edges. “you don’t get it.”
he stood before you, a cocktail mix of utter despair and devotion, all whilst anger and fear simmered on the surface, every emotion open on his face to the point he almost felt unrecognisable. you knew he loved you, could see it painted on his features for the world to see but you weren’t sure when his feelings for you had become his very destruction. it scared you.
his hand shook around your face.
“you think i flew half a day because of a fucking dating rumour?” his eyes glazed over. “i don’t give a fuck about the tabloids, baby, you know that. i was scared because i know what this would do to you. i know your brain.”
your breath hitched.
“i know you.” he repeated, hands continuing to shake against you. “know how your mind gets. i know you’d sit here and cry over this shit when you know i would never touch another woman.”
another harsh sob clawed up your throat, and jungkook heaved at the sight as though it was the worst sound he had ever heard.
“look at me.” he pleaded suddenly.
his hands dropping from your body as he suddenly dropped to his knees - a man of his stature rendered completely broken by the woman he loved. the amount of people who looked up to him, feared him; the amount of people he dictated on a daily basis and yet here he was, on his knees for you. only you.
“there has never been anyone else.” his voice cracked completely. “not before you, not after you. not after this, no matter what happens, you hear me? it’s you, and it’s always going to be just you.”
your own knees were begging to give out, as you leaned against him, only for him to rest his face against your stomach, breathing you in like a man desperate for your understanding. he wanted you to see, needed you to comprehend the situation at hand. there was no him without you, the concept didn’t exist.
“you’re the only woman i’ve ever loved and there is nothing after you, y/n, because you’re my wife. divorce or not, i don’t give a fuck, i belong to you forever whether you want me or not and i won’t..i can’t have you thinking otherwise.”
your entire body gave in at the admission as you collapsed into him with another heart breaking sob, jungkook holding you like a man terrified he had said too much and truly not enough. for the first time since the divorce, neither of you tried to pretend this wasn’t exactly what it was.
—
the rest of the evening softened after that.
somewhere between the tears and the endless kisses planted to your cheeks, nose, head, hands and stomach came an ease to the panic that had long settled into your bones for the past few months. he refused to let you go, grunting almost childishly whenever you’d move out of his arms to do anything until you found yourself snuggled back into his arms, as though the thought of distance after such a clear cut declaration of love physically pained him.
he looked exhausted now that the adrenaline of the situation had worn off, his under eyes sunken from the exhaustion that had now settled deep into his body. to think he had flown all the way across the world simply because of the thought of you crying all alone over a situation that was so completely false upset him - it made you want to sob all over again.
how could you have ever let him go? how could you proceed forward without him, without him so deeply intertwined in your life once more?
eventually you found an old pair of black shorts mixed in with your clothes from when you had packed your things all those months ago. jungkook had stared at them for a few moments after his shower, towel low on his hips as water droplets slipped down his chest. it had his heart pounding faster than anything yet.
“you kept these?” he murmured down at you, watching the way your eyes flickered up from his physique, small gasp leaving your lips at being caught. “oh! um..must’ve slipped them in by accident.”
he didn’t comment on the fact you were wearing his t-shirt either, despite it hardening his cock.
still, he pulled them on as you settled into bed, your hair still scented from your earlier shower too. you, in his too big top, whilst he grabbed you immediately, shirtless and hands still desperate to hold you in a way he had held back on for so long.
you hummed as your body pressed against his, his figure snaking around your body as a heavy arm curled under your ass as a means to prop you up higher in his arms, causing you to giggle into his neck. your arms wrapped around him too, humming a little under your breath as he breathed in your scent openly.
you both laid there in silence for a long while, breathing. healing.
the room was dark now, with the city lights from afar shining through the slips of your blinds, illuminating slivers of his bare chest beside where your hands sat. you could feel his heartbeat, the way it calmed your already heightened senses as though your body recognised it was finally home.
“missed this.” you whispered into his ear, only snuggling closer to him.
jungkook’s grip, once on your waist, slid down to your ass once more. this time, his palm sat on your ass cheek, fingers digging into your skin whilst breathing you in.
“don’t say shit like that to me when i’m hard.” he grunted, a small smile forming across your lips. you hadn’t even done anything, not that you needed to to get jungkook bothered.
when you pulled him from your neck, his eyes were already glazed over, both of you taking a second to simply stare at one another in the exact way you had wanted for so long. his mouth parted, as his hooded eyes took you in, holding you closer, tighter.
within seconds, his lips touched yours.
slowly, at first, as though he was trying to relearn you after years of you being his. he savoured every moment of your lips against his, especially once you started to kiss him back, both of you uncertain in the beginning but once your hands began to find home in his hair, it was then that jungkook’s touch began to grow in confidence.
he kissed like a man starved, one hand buried in your hair too whilst the other continued to grip your ass possessively, as though physically feeling you was enough to have his mind go into overdrive. every small sound you made went straight to his cock as he swallowed your little sighs and whimpers, only pushing him to kiss you deeper and deeper and deeper.
he was growing desperate, pushing you down against the bed, half hovering over you as he rested on one arm, hand cupping at your thighs, your stomach, your knee. anything he could get his hands on all whilst his tongue explored your mouth as though he had every right.
perhaps he did because despite everything, the divorce and distance, the heartbreak - he still reacted to you like you were the only thing capable of fucking him up.
his lips eventually drifted from your mouth, pressing against your chin, your jaw and finally your neck. oh, this sweet, pretty little neck, he had dreams of marking it up and down every other night and the fact he had you in his arms now, in a bed far too small for the things he so desperately wanted to do to you was everything and more.
jungkook moved, properly hovering over you now just as you moaned into his mouth, legs wrapping around his waist, pushing your top down your thighs and revealing your lace panties you had conveniently put on. just in case, of course.
he pulled away, a string of saliva connecting both of your mouths as you watched it break apart the further he pulled his head back. just staring at you hurt, with the way your cheeks had flushed and your hair was spread all across the pillow, and your thighs. fuck. the sight of what was between them had him openly groaning down at you.
“need you to tell me to stop baby, or i won’t be able to hold back.” he hissed down at you, feeling your legs tighten around him before he could finish his sentence.
your hands moved to the waistband of his shorts, eyes never leaving his as you tugged on it just slightly. jungkook, who’s two hands were on either side of your head, blinked down at you half in awe and other agony, the prospect of you teasing him in a moment like this his literal worst nightmare. you always knew how to make him impatient, said it was the best version of him.
he watched with bated breath as you grabbed one of his arms until his hand was in your own, slowly pushing it under your top to rest on your stomach. it felt heavy on your frame, large palm heating your already hot skin before you pulled him down, other arm wrapping around his neck.
“wanna feel you here, kookie.” you whispered into his ear.
jungkook nearly took you then and there.
his jaw flexed, a heavy leaving his lips as he chased your lips, planting another kiss. “yeah? want kookie deep inside?”
“mhm.” you hummed against him, placing your hand over his on your stomach.
“but haven’t taken me for so long, baby. might be too much.”
you closed your eyes at that - the way he cooed down at you despite telling you how easily he could ruin you, break you. it all felt like too much and yet the empty ache inside of you reminded you it wasn’t enough, causing you to merely nod.
“i don’t care. want it.”
the pout on your lips. fuck. jungkook thanked the gods he was a better man, more patient, especially knowing you were doing this on purpose.
“always used to struggle to take me, hm? fucked you open every night and you’d still cry.”
jungkook reached forward, lips on your neck once more but this time, his hips began chasing yours, grinding down almost harshly, causing you to feel every inch, every vein against the flimsy material you called panties. it was heavenly
your hands grabbed him by his biceps, smaller hands unable to wrap around the circumference of his skin. how could you forget your nights of passion? he would spend hours between your legs, so mean, orgasm after orgasm and he still wouldn’t feel satisfied, an insatiable man to his core. even on nights you’d argue, it would somehow end in you fucking which meant the last eight months had been utter hell.
your poor fingers couldn’t reach far enough and nothing brought you to an orgasm unless you thought of him, imagining it was own digits instead of your own.
silly you - if only you realised how similar you and jungkook were. he couldn’t get off unless he was on your instagram, staring at your pretty eyes and lips as he tugged on his cock with all of his energy, round after round after round only to be constantly dissatisfied. having you below him, so ready to be his again? it fucked with his head.
“you'll make it fit.” you whispered.
within mere moments, neither of you could wait. his shorts, alongside the large tshirt that originally belonged to him were on the floor, leaving you in your lacy panties alone. his boxers strained against his hardened length which oozed precum at the mere sight of you, hips bucking a little as you watched him groan out loud at the wet patch forming against the flimsy material.
“my pretty pussy.” he whispered, just as he parted your legs. his fingers pushed your panties to the side, almost hissing from how damp they were, knowing you must have been needy for a while. “missed her. you’ve been holding out on me, baby.”
your eyelashes fluttered up at him at the first touch of his fingers running up and down your slit. you let out an airy moan, barely audible, your body immediately easing back into the covers now that you could finally feel him on you.
he suckled on your neck whilst he circled your clit, knowing your body better than anyone. you were both so in tune with each other’s wants and needs that an eight month break between you both meant nothing when he bit against the sweet spot on your neck all whilst applying more pressure.
you squeaked, nails digging into his biceps at the harshness of his fingers.
“fuck, you’re so needy.” he grunted, pulling away from your neck after leaving a hefty purple bruise. “not been touching your pussy the way it needs.”
“doesn’t feel..” you moaned louder. “doesn’t feel good if you don’t do it.”
his eyes almost rolled back at that. “yeah? need kookie to be the one to touch you?”
“mhm.”
at that, he pulled his hand away only resulting in a loud whine from you. so cruel, to have been given a taste, only to have it pulled away from you.
your positions, however, suddenly changed as jungkook realised the space on the bed was much smaller compared to the bed you had once shared. he rested his back on your wooden bed frame before grabbing you properly, resting you in his lap against his too hard cock, spreading your legs wide.
your back was against his chest, all whilst he caged you in, his fingers returning to your cunt immediately.
this new position had you so much more exposed, as he pushed your thighs apart, index finger circling your hole before slowly pushing inside. your eyebrows furrowed, watching him with a shake to your breath as he took his time, knowing a single one of his was the equivalent of two or three of your own - a though that had him wanting to fuck into you already.
the loud moan that left your lips once he fully inserted it was enough to have him kissing at your temple, cooing.
“like that?”
“feels big.” you whispered back with a shake, feeling him pump in and out.
at that, jungkook thought he was ready to fucking cum. even your pussy was as sweet as you were - too big? one finger and you were already fucked out, but he knew he had to stretch you to accommodate him, a thought that brought a nasty little smirk on his face.
“gotta fuck you open, baby. always so tight.” he continued to coo at you, all as you looked up at him, his finger being joined with another.
soon enough, he was roughly fingering you, all whilst you both maintained eye contact, often breaking it just to share a kiss as though neither of you could get closer to the other. the feeling of him inside you, just like you had become used to for so many years after months apart was the definition of pleasure, your eyes hooded with each pump.
“feels s’good.” you slurred slightly, chest heaving.
he watched your breasts, your bed squeaking with each passing movement and he fucking loved it. loved having your eyes on him, loved having your tits bounced everytime he’d fuck you open a little harder, your sweet moans filling the space.
you could feel how hard he was, but everytime you tried to turn to pleasure him too, he’d merely hold you tighter, as though your orgasm was the only objective on his mind. he wanted to eat you out, fuck - the thought had him all but growling at you but he knew he’d never last, promising himself he’d save that for later tonight.
“wish you knew how many times i’ve dreamt about this.” he grunted down at you, as he watched your thighs try to close from the onslaught of pleasure, only for him to widen them immediately. “i’m constantly fisting my cock thinking about you. at work, at home, in the fucking car.”
“what do you think about?” you pressed desperately, needing to hear it.
jungkook bared his teeth at you slightly, all whilst his pace quickened. “think about breeding you, pumping you full of cum till you’re begging me to stop. every morning, every night until you’re pregnant with our baby. you’d like that, hm?”
you could have sobbed. like was an understatement, your legs widening with each passing word as you nodded almost desperately at him, looking up and above where his head tilted down to watch you.
your eyes then fluttered shut at the image of him touching himself, almost shuddering out of relief at the thought of him so infatuated that he had to cum just to get you off of his mind. especially at work - the whole reason of your divorce being his dedication to his occupation and now knowing you had your affect on him there too? it was euphoric.
“think about you all the time.” you whimpered back at him, pout so cute he wanted to scream. “tried..fuck..tried to touch myself after the gala..but wasn’t enough.”
he watched as you shook your head up at him, one of your hands on his wrist as the same hand pumped faster inside of you at the admission. he cursed under his breath, letting out a deep exhale.
“should’ve told me. fuck, y/n. would’ve ruined you then, baby, you know that right?” he nuzzled into your cheek. “would’ve let you use me as much as you want.”
it was your turn to whimper under your breath, as your eyes shut tight at the familiar feeling in your stomach starting to creep up. it was shocking, how slowly it managed to creep on you, and yet you could feel every inch of its intensity, the first in a long time where you know you’d feel satisfied.
jungkook could feel you clenching, your too tight hole sucking him in desperately as a bid to have him go meaner on you, to which he was more than happy to oblige with. he grabbed your chin with his other hand, forcing your head back so you’d open your eyes again. he wanted to watch.
“eyes on me, pretty girl.”
you weren’t sure if it was the sweet way he cooed at you, or the brutal pace he was now forcing you to take but your orgasm hit you like a freight train. you let out a loud squeak as electricity fluttered through from your head to your toes, your hips rising whilst he continued to finger you through your high, hissing at how sexy you looked maintaining eye contact.
his pace didn’t lessen, devoted to longing out every hit of pleasure for as long as possible, your legs shaking as you pawed at his wrist, but he refused to stop. your body began falling into overstimulation, whining loudly as your weakened hands grabbed onto his, feeling him finally slow whilst he remained two fingers deep, pushed inside of you all the way to his knuckles.
he curled them one last time, causing a shaky breath to leave you before slowly removing them inch by inch.
the emptiness inside of you was horrible, a reminder of what else you wanted and how badly. your big eyes met his, only to watch him take his fingers press them against your pouted lips until they parted, your tongue wrapping around. you tasted yourself, a sweet sigh leaving his lips at the sight of you sucking so eagerly, his cock jolting harshly in his boxers.
“still don’t think you can take me right now.” he whispered down at you, other hand moved so it was openly cupping your pussy as a whole, palm brushing against your hypersensitive clit.
you jolted which each passing touch, breathing shaky before you took his fingers out of your mouth, saliva coating them where your slick once was.
“don’t care, kookie. i want it anyway.” you grumbled slightly, and he swore he had never loved you more.
it was your turn to move as you pulled away from his grasp, giggling a little to yourself at the look on his face once you put space between you, only to turn around, so you were laying on your stomach. he remained in his position, legs on either side of you allowing you to press your hand against his massive bulge.
oh, how you’d missed his cock.
you were as impatient as ever as you pulled his boxers down enough so that his fat cock could finally spring free, watching the way it tilted upwards at first, but its weight forced it down lower and lower until it was resting almost gently on your face.
he wanted to take a picture. wanted to make it his screen saver, your contact picture in his phone - he wanted it in his fucking wallet. his girl, eyes all hooded after being bratty for his cock? you were a minx and you didn’t even know it.
“don’t have a condom.” he found himself whispering at you, just as you began to pump him.
you tilted your head at him, hand unable to wrap around his length as you slowly teased his slit, fingers brushing against it just to him shudder. you watched his face, watched his very composure crumble before your very eyes all whilst he muttered something about a condom? your mind was barely working, still sensitive from the way he had made you cum and the horniness still in your stomach.
“why would i want you to wear a condom?” you whispered up at him, as though it was a little secret between you.
you watched his eyes darken in real time, narrowing down at you as both of his large hands grabbed the back of your head. you giggled, resting your cheek on his thigh whilst you continued to pump his cock, focusing on the tip just the way he liked it. the heaviness in your hand was what you missed the most, causing you to leave a little kiss to it on the mushroom tip, your fluttering eyes only driving him more and more insane.
he wouldn’t last like this. not with you staring up at him like that.
and so, he pulled your hair. you whimpered, pussy clenching as he pulled you up by your locks, your large eyes completely taken over by how rough he was being with you, no doubt being fuelled by the heightened emotions of the past two days. this was your favourite jungkook, secretly of course.
within seconds, you were on your back once more, all whilst he grabbed your hips and yanked you close to him. he dropped down to give you a kiss on your lips, savouring the taste and feel of you before beginning to rub his cock up and down your tight hole.
“my girl.” he whispered against your mouth. “no going back after this.”
your eyes clenched shut at the feeling of him teasing you, pushing the tip against your hole only to pull back the second it began inserting, rubbing it up and down and over your clit once more. he was a tease through and through, but you were too needy to see reason.
“don’t wanna go back, want it all.” you simply whimpered back.
your words were enough to finally have him pushing inside of you.
first, the tip. your face contorted to the familiar feel of his cock slowly inserting inside of you, your breath catching slightly at the sheer size of him - you struggled to take him even when your sex life was incredibly active, so you knew now that you hadn’t been touched for eight months, this was going to be hard.
you watched his face harden, all whilst your eyes slipped downwards to see him pushing further in, inch by inch, until your fingernails were puncturing the skin of his outer arms. he watched your face instead, willing himself not to cum at the way your jaw grew slack, big eyes only widening further at the too large cock settling in inside of you.
it was too much, too big, too at once. you couldn’t think, could barely see and yet you couldn’t pull yourself away from watching him bottom out even if you wanted to, a slight bulge evident where he sat deep inside of you. his large hand took a hold of yours and kissed it before pressing it against the bulge, only to rest his own right on top. applying pressure, he hissed at the way you let out a loud whimper, your cute thighs trembling around him.
“feel that?” he whispered down at you, nuzzling your nose to force you to look at him. “thats where i fucking belong. this pussy stretches so good for me every time.”
your lip was already trembling, a sight that had his cock throbbing deep inside of you as you clenched down on him hard. his cry baby - he loved seeing you teary during sex.
you were still adjusting as he began to move, causing you to squeal, but jungkook couldn’t wait anymore, not when he’d been dealt with blue balls for close to a year. you were the only option, pledging to live a life of fucking celibacy if you’d have chosen to never let him inbetween your legs again though the thought killed him inside. live a life without a taste of your sweet pussy? he’d sooner die.
“jungkook!” you slapped the tops of his biceps, as he continued his thrusting inside of you, nipping at your jaw, feeling his smirk against your skin.
the feeling of him thrusting in and out of you was intense, something you had been craving for so long now and yet now it was happening, you wanted more, and more and more and more and more. he loved this shy game you’d always play, always pretending like you couldn’t take it despite the fact your legs were widening further and you were moaning like a bitch in heat - it turned him on beyond words to know underneath the sweet persona, you were the filthiest slut he had ever known.
his pace was deep, mean but slow and it wasn’t enough, purposefully done to tease you for as long as he could, to ensure you’d stay needy. it was clearly working with the way your moans, whines and gasps filled the air only to be followed with a long drawl of his name, face scrunched up so cute he wanted to fucking scream.
“c’mon, baby, you’re so good to me.” he cooed, continuing his slow thrusts. “just gotta ask if you want something.”
your eyes scrunched shut, whimpering at his words knowing he wanted you in ways that you had reminisced on for months, the feeling of him kissing the gummy part of your cunt something you had missed so much.
“want it properly, kookie.” you begged him, though you couldn’t meet his gaze, eyes flickering down to his neck as he continued his pace. “yeah? tell kookie how you want it.”
your fingers clung to his shoulders as he came down, arms now pressed on either side of your head as he nuzzled your nose with his own, actions too sweet given the sinful position he had you in.
your breathing was ragged, the feel of him inside you too much for your poor little mind to handle without breaking and yet it wasn’t nearly enough. you craved something harsher, meaner, more jungkook. neither of you had ever been ones for soft sex, always preferring it as needy as possible which only heightened considering the fact you were both so utterly obsessive when it came to the other.
you whined loudly as his actions came to a stop completely, now grinding against you whilst still being inside.
“just want you to fuck me properly.” you whimpered, lip quivering so much faster, hips lifting to meet his as a means to relieve yourself.
god. you were killing him.
“good girl.”
jungkook planted a single kiss to your lips, oddly sweet before pulling back, planting two more to your forehead and nose. you were ready to whine once more until you felt his hips pull back, only to thrust into you harshly.
you squealed as jungkook began his pace exactly how you craved it, exactly how you used to picture with your own fingers in your cunt, desperately trying and failing to replicate the feel. hard. fast. mean. rough.
your neighbours would no doubt complain tomorrow with the way your bed frame began pounding into the wall, his head pressed against yours as his thrusts began kissing your cervix. your legs shook around him, much to his enjoyment, all whilst he forced you to maintain eye contact, wanting so badly to see the affect he was having on you after he had been deprived of you for so long.
“fuck..there she is. that’s my girl.” he hissed down at you, not holding back, the sound of skin slapping against skin heavy in the room. “you don’t know how badly i missed you.”
“m-missed..ugh! missed you..too..” you managed to string together, salted tears now escaping your eyes as they streamed on either side of the pillow.
“pretty girl like you needs to be fucked mean. no good to be nice to you, huh?” he growled down at you, only causing your lip to quiver that much faster as you nodded. “can’t think unless it’s me bullying your pussy into an orgasm.”
your nods were paired with soft sobs as he pounded, ruining your soppy core just like you had wanted. you had dreamt of this, dreamt of him, genuinely believing you’d never reach this state of pleasure ever again in your life and yet here he was, coaxing it out of you to remind you that he’d never leave you again.
his thrusts were sloppier than usual, no doubt due to the extensive length between your last fuck but it only had you moaning and crying louder. the thought of the usually composed jeon jungkook a whining mess for you and you alone had you clamping down hard on his cock.
“can’t believe i let you leave me.” he grunted hard at the feel of you getting so tight, gritting his teeth as he pounded you further. “never again. you fucking hear me, y/n? you’re my wife forever.”
“promise?” you sobbed back, arms now wrapping around his neck as you tried to bring him impossibly closer, as though you could in any capacity.
he nipped at your bottom lip, moaning into your mouth at the way you all but begged him to make it a reality.
“gonna take you to the courthouse tomorrow, get you a nice dress and we do..fuck..we do this again, understand?” he closed his eyes the more you whined and whined. “gonna let me put that ring back on your fucking finger, baby?”
you nodded wildly, just as you felt your orgasm build up in your stomach again, whining loudly up at him in a way he recognised immediately. fuck, he had missed this so much - his angel girl, all needy, begging for it even though she could barely take it. he could feel his own coming on fast, causing him to pull his hand down and rub at your clit, hissing at the feeling of you clamping down on his cock harshly.
“c’mon baby. want you to cum on your husband’s cock, hm? gonna get you nice and round like you deserve.” his thrusts only got meaner. “move you back in. fuck this pussy every single day, just like you need.”
your high rushed through you at the exact point his did, your legs wrapping around his waist as a means to keep him inside. you could feel it all through your body, the way it seized up and bucked into him all whilst he continued his thrusts, fucking you through both of your orgasms.
your vision started growing dark, the intensity of it overwhelming as he rode out your highs whilst whispering soft i love you’s in your ear, cradling you to his chest, holding you closer than you’d ever felt him before.
everything after that completely blurred together.
you remembered jungkook taking care of you, tenderness laced into his very being as he held you like you were akin to a porcelain doll - sweet, so soft, so delicate. somewhere between the damp kisses pressed to your skin underneath the bubbling bath he had drawn for you both, to the continuous declarations of love muttered down at you; you realised that this was inevitable. he was inevitable.
there didn’t exist a reality where you both could live without one another - you knew that now.
even after the heartbreak, the divorce, the loneliness and the debilitating grief, you still found yourself exactly where you belonged. your cheek pressed against his chest, his heartbeat soothing you into a dreamlike state which paled in comparison to the reality that was now yours. his love had you wrapped so tightly you knew you’d never live without it again.
you were finally home.
—
this beast of a fic is finally done yay!!! i hope you guys love ex husband jungkook just as much as i do!
tried to make him less yandere in this one and more pathetic yearner lol but i may have slipped here and there 💔
i’d love to hear your thoughts on this - love hearing you guys after a fic drops so i’m excited to see what you all think!!!!
if you wanna help support me pay my disgusting, awful, horrific london rent, my kofi is linked <3
ᯓ★ SYNOPSIS.ᐟ from what started as a simple arrangement to hide your feelings for a certain someone by getting into in a fake relationship soon turns into a tangled mess. in which some things are hard to tell when you can’t read between the lines
ᯓ★ PAIRING.ᐟ park wonbin x reader
ᯓ★ GENRE.ᐟ fluff, angst, crack | 𖡎 – written portions
ᯓ★ STATUS.ᐟ completed.
ᯓ★ TAGLIST.ᐟ closed (limit)
ᯓ★ NOTES.ᐟ first riize smau! bbina is cooking with this one i fear... this fic will contain nsfw themes somewhere along the way and some kys jokes, etc. happy reading! also if you want to be added to the taglist make sure your blog is visible for me to be able to tag you
˗ˏˋ ★ CHAPTERS ★ ˎˊ˗
☆ INTRODUCTION
☆ ONE ⊹₊ ⋆ do what you must
☆ TWO ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 last minute rain checks
☆ THREE ⊹₊ ⋆ national museum of korea
☆ FOUR ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 campfire
☆ FIVE ⊹₊ ⋆ chemistry
☆ SIX ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 first day on the job
☆ SEVEN ⊹₊ ⋆ shock factor
☆ EIGHT ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 yet
☆ NINE ⊹₊ ⋆ soft launch
☆ TEN ⊹₊ ⋆ thanks for the support
☆ ELEVEN ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 pillow talk
☆ TWELVE ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 count your days
☆ THIRTEEN ⊹₊ ⋆ wasn't part of the plan
☆ FOURTEEN ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 why does it matter
☆ FIFTEEN ⊹₊ ⋆ just be with me
☆ SIXTEEN ⊹₊ ⋆ seoul bound
☆ SEVENTEEN ⊹₊ ⋆ more than welcome
☆ EIGHTEEN ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 trust me
☆ NINETEEN ⊹₊ ⋆ newly improved fake boyfriend 2.0
☆ TWENTY ⊹₊ ⋆ only my girl
☆ TWENTY ONE ⊹₊ ⋆ next date
☆ TWENTY TWO ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 for my eyes only
☆ TWENTY THREE ⊹₊ ⋆ care package
☆ TWENTY FOUR ⊹₊ ⋆ too early
☆ TWENTY FIVE ⊹₊ ⋆ not like this
☆ TWENTY SIX ⊹₊ ⋆ two months later
☆ TWENTY SEVEN ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 long way home
☆ TWENTY EIGHT ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 thank you
☆ TWENTY NINE ⊹₊ ⋆ fake idgafer
☆ THIRTY ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 boundaries
☆ THIRTY ONE ⊹₊ ⋆ could've had it all
☆ THIRTY TWO ⊹₊ ⋆ out of habit
☆ THIRTY THREE ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 time
☆ THIRTY FOUR ⊹₊ ⋆ deja vu
☆ THIRTY FIVE ⊹₊ ⋆ operation: ynbin
☆ THIRTY SIX ⊹₊ ⋆ it's bad for the both of them
☆ THIRTY SEVEN ⊹₊ ⋆ stories write themselves
☆ THIRY EIGHT ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 ulsan
☆ THIRTY NINE ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 drunken words
☆ FORTY ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 sober thoughts
☆ FORTY ONE ⊹₊ ⋆ disappointed
☆ FORTY TWO ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 afternoon bliss (M)
☆ FORTY THREE ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 we are so back
☆ FORTY FOUR ⊹₊ ⋆ what are we
☆ FORTY FIVE ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 wouldn't have it in any other way
☆ FORTY SIX ⊹₊ ⋆ new boyfriend lore
☆ FORTY SEVEN ⊹₊ ⋆ texting and driving
☆ FORTY EIGHT ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 dior her
☆ FORTY NINE ⊹₊ ⋆ 𖡎 you’re all i’ll ever want and need
☆ FIFTY ⊹₊ ⋆ between the lines
˖᯽ ݁˖· ─ WORD COUNT: 16.3k
˖᯽ ݁˖· ─ PAIRING: riize's jung sungchan x female!reader
˖᯽ ݁˖· ─ TAGS & WARNINGS: f1!au, teammate's sister!au, strangers to lovers!au, straight up fluff
˖᯽ ݁˖· ─ SYNOPSIS: incoming f1 rookie jung sungchan is focused only on one thing: get through his first season without losing his seat by the end of it. ferrari's taken a big chance on a rookie this year, and he's not about to mess that up. on the other hand, your job is to keep your brother in the good graces of fans and media and draw all attention to your brother.. . and not yourself.
˖᯽ ݁˖· ─ NOTES: the race order in this follows the 2025 calendar & there is no intentional similarities to any real-life racing events/results/incidents. this is in an ideal world, where ferrari has a good car and a competent team. we can only dream. i have a lot more planned for this couple, but wanted to get a fic out for the bday boy. watch this space!!!
happy birthday to our amazing and talented jung sungchan<3 i love you my jinsu!
꒰🏎️꒱
ROUND 01 - AUSTRALIAN GRAND PRIX
You're doing your best at keeping your face neutral as you watch executives, managers and staff buzz around you at the very edge of the garage. The phone in your tight grip sounds out the 7th ring and you grow more impatient as it continues on.
Finally, the line clicks.
"Mark, where the fuck are you?" you snap into the phone abruptly.
On the other side of the line, Mark lets out this deep, resigned sigh that has steam coming out of your ears, "Sis, chill. I'm coming back now."
You hear a shrill, high-pitched laugh in the background of the call and a whiny voice calling for your brother and you want to choke yourself out on the spot. You now know exactly where he is but you decide you'll give him the opportunity to lie to you.
"You better not be at the fuck ass Williams garage, I swear," you seethe into the phone, "40 minutes before lights out and you're not even at your own garage."
Your profanity catches the attention of the team principal walking pasts you, who shoots you an exasperated look, "Where is Mark?"
Letting out a nervous and awkward chuckle, you point to your phone, "He's coming. He's coming"
Fred just nods and makes a hurry up gesture with his hands as you bring the speaker back to your ear. You catch the tail end of Mark's rant where's he's calling you "-such a fucking bore."
"Just get here on that dumb little scooter of yours, now," your tone leaves no room for argument as you hang up and shoot Fred and the engineers a thumbs up as they look around in confusion.
Anyone would be confused if their driver suddenly went AWOL 40 minutes before the first race of the season and they're all looking at you because unfortunately, it is your job to ensure Mark is where he needs to be at all times. You didn't think telling him to be at his own team's garage before a race would be part of it though- let alone the first race of the new season.
You've always known that your brother, the social butterfly, likes to wander. And if you don't know where he is, he's probably somewhere gallivanting with Williams driver Lee Haechan. You caught some of it at the tail end of the previous season when you began feeling out your role and getting the low down from your mom who has since handed the job over to you after you graduated the summer before.
Officially, you're Mark's manager, but you're more like his manager, publicist, personal assistant, therapist, and babysitter rolled into one. Starting this season, your job is to make sure that Mark's only worry is getting into that car and driving well, which means that everything else falls on you and your stress level is at an all time high 100% of the time.
No wonder your mom had to take an early retirement.
You honestly, truly, genuinely had no idea how much work went into managing an F1 driver and you could have all the undergrad and masters degrees in communications in the world and you'd still have no idea how your mother endured it since Mark's younger karting days.
You zone out against the wall for what feels like forever, until you hear your brother's calls into the garage as he zooms in through the front on that scooter that actually makes him look quite stupid, but it gets him places faster than his feet.
"I'm here, someone tell Y/N to chill," Mark chortles and you resist the urge to throw the brick of a phone in your hand straight at his face.
"I'm gonna go to hospitality then," you breathe out deeply to calm yourself, knowing you were resolved from duties for the next hour and a half while he zooms around the track. You peer out the garage door and see it's still raining as it had been all morning and afternoon, "Good luck, Markie. Be safe out there."
Though you're residually annoyed at your brother for making you stress, the nerves you have before each race finally begin to seep in between your bones to replace that feeling. It's not even a welcome substitution, but it's a familiar feeling having watched Mark race for the better part of your life.
He reaches over to ruffle the top of your head and shoots you a gentle smile before nodding his head in the direction of the door to shoo you away.
Over the years, it's grown easier to watch Mark race, but that feeling will never go away- the one where your stomach sinks into a pit every time a competitor gets near him, the one where you hold your breath every time he dives into an overtake on a dangerous corner, the one that explodes into a ball of flames on those rare occasions he crashes and you have to find out if he's okay alongside the world. This is your first year as part of Mark's team, and with that, you know you have to travel to every race weekend with him. Before, you could only manage to get to the weekends that fit around your school schedule and exams, meaning you only had to deal with those emotions a handful of times per season, plus the occasional broadcasts you would catch if it was in the right time zone. Now, it's a new challenge of making it through every weekend without ripping all of your hair out in anxiety.
Your mind is all occupied and in tatters that you don't even register it completely when you bump into a figure and nearly trip over your own feet. A set of strong hands catch you at your shoulders to steady you, "Woah, careful."
"Oh, I'm sorry. I wasn't looking," the hallway out of the garage is narrow and you should have been looking to make way for whoever was coming.
When you finally look up, you're face-to-face with a visage you've only seen on social media posts recently, "No worries- wait, you look familiar," his eyes drop down to the pass around your neck- an all-access Ferrari pass- "Do you work for Ferrari?"
"Y/N Lee, Mark's sister and manager," you introduce yourself calmly.
"Ah, right. I'm Sungchan. Sungchan Jung," he bares his teeth in a charming smile as he fiddles with the fireproof suit pooling around his waist. Ferrari's newest driver, and a rookie at that, stands in front of you all wide-eyed and fidgeting. He's probably nervous for his first F1 race under the emblem, having only raced a couple times in the previous season as a reserve for Haas.
You laugh at him, "I know who you are. But nice to finally meet you. You'll see me around a lot this season, but probably rarely in as calm a state as right now."
Sungchan chuckles with you, "Does your version of calm involve you walking into people all dissociated?"
"My only advice to you is be nice to your manager and don't make them pull their hair our trying to get you to where you need to be," you tut at him before looking back at the garage and realising, "Which is probably exactly what you're doing. Get in there, Jung! Good luck for the race."
Sungchan tugs his lips into an appreciative smile as he ruffles the hair out of his face, "It's nice to meet you, Y/N Lee."
꒰🏎️꒱
ROUND 02 - CHINESE GRAND PRIX
You're not that familiar with the Shanghai Grand Prix grounds, having only visited it the one time in Mark's 2nd season. It's the first year in 5 years that the track returned to the calendar, so the crowd is pumping with excitement and your brother nervous in his motor home.
For most tracks, drivers could do it with their eyes closed, driving on feeling and memory built up over the years. It's comforting to know that a majority of the other drivers on the grid were also fairly recent racers with limited experience on the track.
Although the practices went okay and he was starting on the grid at P2, you could read it in his face that he was unsettled as he went through his breathing exercises in the chair. His coach had recommended him to meditate before races to keep his head clear and get his head in the game and he's followed that advice religiously ever since.
"Markie, what's wrong?" you call out softly to him.
His head lifts up to meet your gaze, "It might rain during the race. It was such a shit show with the rain last week and if I can't see anything out my visor, it's gonna be a mess again."
You know your brother was having a hard time grappling with the P3 finish after starting in pole in the first race of the season. He was coming off a driver's championship the previous season, so everyone was expecting him to keep the momentum going and win right off the bat.
"It's only the second race, Mark. The season's long, so don't get in your head about it so early on," you try to comfort him, "Plus, every driver will experience the same weather as you on the track. You just have to trust in your team, okay?"
"Speaking of team, I can't believe Sungchan is starting in P5 today," Mark clapped his hands together as the thought came to him, "Maybe we can fight for a constructor's championship this year."
The rookie already impressed the team and the public with a points finish in Australia, securing P7. Last season, Mark had nearly single-handedly led Ferrari to 3rd in the constructor's championship, but his lack of a consistent teammate had meant they couldn't get any closer to the top. There was a reason that there was a new driver in the second seat and you, along with everyone else, were hoping that he could take Ferrari to that next level again.
"I bumped into him just before the race last weekend. He seems nice," you comment casually, happy to distract your brother from his nerves, "Where did he come from? Feels like he just came out of nowhere."
"As if you followed last season diligently," Mark teases, "But he's a Ferrari junior, raced a few times as a sub last season too . He's got a hell of a lot of potential though, but I hope he doesn't get on my ass too much."
You shrug, "Some competition is nice."
"He's the youngest person on the Ferrari team right now- other than you. You guys should be friends," Mark says, "You'll see him a lot this year."
"Ha, is this also your way of saying I don't have friends here?" you tease him.
Mark rolls his eyes, "Cause you don't."
"I'm friends with Eunseok's girlfriend," you protest, offended.
"And she's never ever in the paddock because she's a doctor," Mark counters, "All I'm saying is that it's nice to have a friend on the team."
You decide to shelve his comments in the deep section of your brain reserved for things that weren't about your brother and your job as you check your watch, "It's time to go to the car now. You good?"
Mark flattens his lips together, "Always ready. Going up to hospitality? Or watching from the garage today?"
"Depends how in the way I feel in the garage today," you shrug and follow him out of his motor home. He greets the staff members that litter the path and makes small conversations with a few engineers that briefly join your walk before breaking away.
Behind him, you're tapping furiously at your phone to ensure you had absolutely everything mapped out and booked in for his post-race duties.
"Ever keep your eyes up?" Sungchan's voice isn't so familiar to you yet that you can recognise him without looking. You don't stop in your tracks as you look up and see him peering down at you.
"Mark's a busy guy, which unfortunately makes me a busy woman," you mutter, finalising something on the calendar you share with Mark before pocketing your phone, "How are you feeling for the race? Great job in qualifying."
"Yeah, I'm really happy with where I'm starting. It's gonna be tricky defending my spot from the rest of the grid but I'm excited," the expression on his face is endearing and full of passion.
"Good luck," you tell him sincerely, "I'll be watching from the garage today and cheering you on!"
Sungchan's face twists in surprise at your words, "You will?"
You give him a confused look, "You're my brother's teammate and the team would love a constructor's championship this year."
Sungchan makes an 'ah' face, "Yeah, of course. Thanks Y/N."
"Why do you look so surprised?"
He looks hesitant to answer you as his mouth opens, then closes, before it opens again, "I'm not used to people cheering for me. That's all. See ya later, Y/N."
Jung Sungchan disappears behind your brother in a wall of race engineers and tyres stacked up to the roof. You're confused by his comment briefly before your mind transports itself back to a time between the end of the last season and the start of this one when your brother had told you about his new Ferrari teammate.
Mark had been frowning at his phone, reading the comments of the post announcing Sungchan's F1 contract. There were masses of hate comments left by strangers on the internet who were so angry about this young adult getting the Ferrari seat over their favourite driver and that conversation with Mark had left such a sour taste in your mouth and a lot of sympathy for his teammate you hadn't yet met.
In a blink of an eye, you're pressed against a wall of the garage, peering up at the screens displaying the feed of the race. Evidently, you couldn't find a seat in the area, but you were too distracted by your own thoughts to trust yourself to put one foot in front of the other.
Mark was doing well as you expected. He had managed to undercut the race leader with a well-timed pit-stop and even managed to give his teammate a good tow in the process of waiting out the pitstops in front of him. The guests and staff around you were all buzzing with excitement at the prospect of the first Ferrari win of the season, but somewhere along the way when Mark had a comfortable lead, your gaze had started focusing on the letters 'JUN' on the side of the feed.
He had managed to keep his position at P5 50 laps into the 56 lap race, and he was getting closer and closer to the car ahead. With Mark seemingly securing his victory already with a 9 second gap, the garage had then started to talk about the rookie and his prospect of a higher points finish.
Sungchan was very nearly in DRS range to the car in front of him and with every turn before the detection zones, everyone held their breaths. Your routine was to tune into Mark's feed on your phone to get all the info from his team radio and the pit-wall in case there was something you'd like for him to address in his post-race interviews, but your fingers had moved by themselves to switch the feed to Sungchan's.
"Give it everything, Sungchan," his race engineer had instructed softly as he began lap 52, "Your tires will hold out until the end. Push, please."
His voice was shaky as his radio came in, "Copy."
"1.046 to Song."
In every other situation, you'd feel bad for Eunseok. You were almost friends through his sweet girlfriend, but Sungchan was your brother's teammate and you were practically a Ferrari employee. Of course you were going to cheer for the rookie.
Sungchan hadn't managed to close the gap before the first DRS detection zone, but going down the first straight, it seemed like he had just put his foot to the ground and nudged his car right up to Eunseok's. You couldn't breathe as he sent the cars full throttle into turns 14 and 15, knowing he needed to get within a second of Eunseok before turn 16.
The roar of the garage was electric the exact second that DRS was activated and Sungchan flew past the Mercedes in a handful of seconds. You let out a sigh of relief as the garage burst into applause.
In your lone earbud, Sungchan's race engineer comes in proudly, "P4. Well done, Sungchan. Keep it up and defend, okay?"
"Jung's defying all expectations," someone beside you murmurs, "I doubted him when they signed the contract, but he's proving everyone wrong."
The person they were accompanying replies something in favour of the rookie, but his words from earlier echoes back to you- I'm not used to people cheering for me.
It reminds you of Mark's early racing days when winning or getting on the podium at every race wasn't the norm. It took a lot of hard work for Mark to get on the top, but there was a point he was contemplating on giving up, but your parents had sat him down and asked him whether that would be what he truly wanted. Their support for him instead of pushing him into a more conventional and less expensive path was enough for him to keep trying, at least just for that moment. From then, Mark never looked back.
Sungchan had this expression of uncertainty when you spoke to him earlier. Maybe all he needed was someone to truly believe in him.
꒰🏎️꒱
BREAK BETWEEN ROUND 02 and 03
It certainly felt pointless to you to fly halfway across the globe from China to Italy when the next race in a week and a half was in Japan, but wherever Mark went, you followed. It's not your first time in Maranello, sure, but you've actually never been allowed to spend a lot of time at Ferrari HQ when you were just Mark's sister and not his employee.
Still, there's not much for you to do at the headquarters other than twiddle your thumbs and gaze upon the endless trophies of the past they had displayed. In the past 2 days that Mark has been doing stuff with the team, you've read pretty much every plaque describing all the moments immortalised on the canvases lining the walls. You already knew a lot about Ferrari history from dining room table conversations with your family, but now, you're definitely an expert.
The staff have been exceedingly nice over the past couple of days, always asking if you wanted a drink or a driver to take you around town, but you'd mostly just declined in your best Italian and scrolled your social media in the corner of this boujee lounge dedicated for their drivers.
You don't actually even know what Mark's doing with the team- you haven't bothered to learn all the nitty-gritty technical things related to the car and driving, saving your brain expenditure on publicity training tips to impart on your brother and organisational skills instead. It was certainly no easy task trying to communicate to all the brands that sponsored your brother and all the people reaching out to have him do this, that and the other, all while making sure his calendar was prioritised for his races and F1 commitments first.
Sure, a GQ photoshoot and spread would be good for his fame, but if Ferrari needed him at Maranello, then they'd either have to come to Mark themselves or find another driver.
"Hi Y/N," Sungchan waves at you in greeting as he enters the lounge. He's throwing back an energy drink down his throat as he takes the sofa across from you, "Still waiting for Mark?"
"I don't know when he'll be finished again. I probably should have just stayed in the hotel," you nod solemnly.
"Why did you come to Italy? You could've gone back home in your break or travelled a bit," Sungchan asks you curiously.
You shrug, "I'm Mark's employee now so I guess I have to follow him. Canada's too far for only a week's stay and Monaco is boring without Mark there. I just moved to Monaco so I don't really have that many friends there yet."
Sungchan grins, "I'm moving to Monaco soon actually. Right of passage for F1 drivers, I guess."
"Oh, you don't live there yet? Where do you live?"
He gestures out the window with his hand, "I moved here when I was 15. I've been a development driver that long. My mum came with me at first, but she went back to Korea when I turned 20."
"Oh that's so cool- do you speak Italian?" you quiz him.
"Sì, certo," Sungchan blurts proudly, "It's definitely not native level but I try my best."
"That's very impressive," you compliment, "I only know how to say yes, no and where's the toilet in Italian. It's actually only my fourth time in the country."
Sungchan looks surprised, "Really? But Mark's been a Ferrari driver for years and years."
"I've been busy with school; Canada is so far from the rest of the world. I worked whenever I was off school too," you explain to him, "My whole family came to Maranello though when Mark signed his rookie contract with the team and I came to Monza and Imola a couple years back."
"Does that mean you haven't seen much of the town?" there's a glint in his eyes as you shake your head, "Do you want a tour from a local? I'm free the rest of today."
For a moment you contemplate whether it's ethical to leave your boss hanging, but then you remember he's also your silly older brother. He definitely wouldn't mind if you ran away with Sungchan for an afternoon- he didn't even want you to come to Maranello with him to be honest.
"Would Mark mind?" Sungchan can see the gears turning in your head.
"Nah, he doesn't have time to show me around himself anyway. Are you sure though?" Sungchan holds an arm out that you grab to tug yourself up to your feet.
He points out the window, "It's a gorgeous spring day. Let's make the most of it!"
You're not sure why, but you don't hesitate to follow Sungchan out of the room and to wherever he wanted to take you. After shooting Mark a quick text, you catch up to the heels of the tall driver.
He bows and say thank you and goodbye to every staff member you come across out of the building and they all look at him with such fondness and adoration that you start to understand why they might possibly choose a rookie driver who's grown up with the team over a egotistical, over-cocky external recruit.
The Ferrari HQ actually has valet, so Sungchan walks up to the desk and greets the staff there like they're old friends before they disappear into a door behind the desk.
"Ah, of course you have a car here; you live here," you hum beside him as he leans against the glass at the front of the building.
"Mhm, they gifted it to me when I made my F1 debut last year. I have to ship it to Monaco soon, though," he cocks his head in realisation, "Or drive it 5 hours over the border. Maybe a road trip would be fun, but it's not like the car would carry anything anyway."
As soon as he says that, a sleek and expensive looking sports car with the prancing horse logo pulls up into the front. The valet steps out and hands the key over to your companion, who gestures for you to get inside. Your brother has his fair share of flashy cars, so it's not anything new to you, but you don't deny it's still cool.
Sungchan opens the passenger side door and you watch it swing up instead of out. You give him an appreciative smile before he jogs around to get behind the wheel.
"I wish I could compliment you on this car, but I don't know much about them," you say sheepishly, "I'm definitely eager to learn more as I go through the season."
He's started driving already without telling you where you were going, but you somehow find it in yourself to trust him with your life despite only having met him a handful of times.
"How come you ended up working with your brother then?" he asks.
"I have an undergrad and masters in communications, so being a PR person or manager was the natural route. My mum has been doing it for Mark for forever and she wanted to retire from it, so it kind of felt natural for me to step into her role out of college," you explain, "I know, I know- I'm a nepo baby."
Sungchan shrugs, "Mark's lucky to have family at each race then no matter what. If I was him, I'd hire my sister who's literally educated in that area with no doubt. That's definitely something I'd consider but my parents and my older brother are content in their other careers."
"I'm assuming you have a manager, but I haven't met them yet. Do you get on well?"
A soft smile adorns his face, "Yeah, Changmin's like my second dad. He's been with me for a while too, but he has a few other racers in his management. Still, he's incredible, seriously. I'd be so lost without him."
"I wish Mark would appreciate me like that. Instead, all he does is stress me out by running away with Haechan before races," you snort, "Just kidding, I know he's grateful- or he should be."
Maranello isn't that big of a place so your conversation comes to a halt after a few more minutes of Sungchan finding out more about your family and your role with Mark. He parks up on the side of the street in front of a row of shops and restaurants.
"I forgot to ask if you were hungry, actually," Sungchan looks sheepish as his two hands grip the steering wheel as he turns the car off.
You giggle at his expression, "I'm always down for Italian food- and authentic Italian food this time."
His grin is dazzling as he reaches for the car door and tells you to wait. You obey, despite not quite realising why he requested that in the split-second it took for him to reach your side of the car and open your door. Sungchan offers out a hand to help you up, knowing how difficult it was to get out of the sports car sometimes without looking silly.
"You're such a gentleman, Sungchan. Your mother's raised you well- or your past girlfriends," you tease him lightly.
He lets out a playful scoff as he denies, "Nah, I've never even had a girlfriend. Was too busy racing in my teens and I was homeschooled when I came to Italy so I didn't exactly know many Italian girls to fall at my feet. But yeah, my parents have drilled it in me and my brother to treat people well."
"Hey, you're an F1 driver now," you nudge him playfully as you follow him to an entrance of a restaurant with a brick facade, "Your life is about to be yachts, models, partying and celebrities. You're the celebrity."
He scrunches up his face adorably, "I don't know about that one, actually. Doesn't seem like the lifestyle for me."
Every moment passing with Sungchan just shows you how good of a person he seems to be. Mark may be right in trying to get the two of you to be friends.
The restaurant he takes you to is small beyond the exterior, but it has a homely vibe with the colourful, but wearing tablecloths adorning the surfaces and the soft music crooning over the speakers. Sungchan speaks in hushed, fluent Italian to the server who smiles at him like he knows him- which every person in the town probably does.
The server leads you to a table in the far corner, but it's still a good spot to not make you feel cramped. It's just cozy and just right.
Sungchan translates carefully what the server harps off about the restaurant and when they leave for you to decide, you eye the menu in hesitation. There's not a lick of English on it, which you don't expect, but you didn't buy any data to load Google Translate as you thought you'd be scrounging off hotel and HQ wifi the whole time.
"I'll go through the menu with you," Sungchan offers softly when he sees your reluctant face and plucks the laminated sheet out of your hand, "Are you allergic to anything?"
"Nope," you murmur. You're in awe of his kindness, truly. He's currently sat across the square table from you, but he picks up his chair and moves perpendicular to be able to nestle in beside you. He leaves behind his own menu to lean over and peer at your own.
You don't even realise you've frozen until he's softly saying your name, "Y/N?"
"Oh, yeah- sorry!" your cheeks flush pink after being caught out, but Sungchan doesn't take notice as he points to the starters.
Diligently, he translates every dish and the descriptions, giving his own opinions and watching your face react to each item. From his recommendation, the two of you decide on your food and he calls over the server to take your order. You weren't a big drinker and wine wasn't exactly up your alley, so you settled for soft drinks instead.
When Sungchan finishes listing the familiar food items, the server's eyes flash towards you before he says something to Sungchan. The driver, who was still sat beside you, breaks out into little giggles as you notice the tips of his ears start turning red while he curtly responds.
"What did he say to you?" you ask curiously, taking a sip from the water the server had supplied when you sat down.
Sungchan purses his lips and opens them, before he hesitates and closes them again for a second, "He just made a funny joke. It's in Italian so hard to translate."
You eye him warily, "Hm, okay."
He asks you a question to distract you into a tangent about your degree until the food comes. Unsurprisingly, it's the best Italian you've ever had and the server, despite his little English, manages to dedicate such great customer service to you that you're practically a silence away from writing poetry in their TripAdvisor reviews.
Sungchan happily details to you his life- how he got into racing, his highs and his lows in his career and his biggest dreams. The way he babbles between fork-fulls of pasta is utterly endearing that you have to stop yourself from reaching over the table and squeezing his cheeks. Still, you keep composure as he talks about his racing heroes.
When the food winds down and you're stuffed to the brim, finished off by a good helping of tiramisu, Sungchan is already behind you, ready with your jacket to slide over your arms.
"We haven't paid yet, though?" you frown at him.
The server, carrying a tray of drinks to another table, passes you at this moment, "Mr Sungchan paid. Che bella coppia! Buona serata!"
You look over at Sungchan who waves a dismissive hand at you and leads you out of the restaurant and to the car with a goodbye to the staff.
"What did he say at the end? I'm guessing he said have a good evening and bella means beautiful right?" you investigate him. The smile on the server's face was so sincere; you wished you understood what he said.
"He said what a beautiful couple," Sungchan chews the inside of his mouth bashfully, "I told him earlier that we weren't a couple, but he's just teasing."
You realise suddenly, "Ah, that must be what made you so red earlier, haha. It's fine- he's a lovely man and it's an amazing restaurant."
You both clamber into your respective sides of the car as Sungchan displays a solemn expression, "I just realised that was probably my last time there for a while since I'm moving."
"You act like the HQ for the team you drive for isn't here," you tease him, "Maybe you'll just have to learn to cook like them!"
Sungchan chortles, "As if! You can be my taste-tester in Monaco then. You'll regret giving me that idea."
You join his hearty, melodious laughs, "Okay, I'll see you in Monaco for that."
꒰🏎️꒱
ROUND 03 - JAPANESE GRAND PRIX
You were having your first difficult weekend dealing with your brother. It was so hard, in fact, that you didn't even join him for dinner after qualifying day.
A spun out Alpine during his final Q3 flying lap meant that he only qualified 6th and he certainly felt some way about it, making his feelings known to the press. Your brother isn't usually so hot-headed and irrational when it came to these things, but sometimes, things just build up and his fuse blows.
The Alpine had been driving erratically all weekend, seemingly unable to properly control the car, and it was just Mark's luck that the bright livery managed to crash into the championship leader's own red vehicle. But still, Mark should've known to keep mum- it was still early in the season anyway. You don't win championships on round 3.
But the damage was done and he had run his mouth and you were dealing with all these requests for comments from all these papers, while simultaneously trying to keep up with the comments about your brother on social media. It's tricky because you know people's opinion changes up in a snap of your fingers and a lot of people do accept that motorsports gets intense and things said in the heat of the moment both during and after a race should be taken with a pinch of salt, but at the same time, Mark has a reputation to uphold and sponsors to keep happy.
Not only was Mark subject to a hefty fine for his language over the radio and in the post-session interviews, he was also being subjected to the wrath of his little sister who's work was cut out for her.
"I said I'm sorry," Mark pleas beside you as you walk through the paddock and over to garage on race day. He stops a few times to take photos with kids and sign some caps and shirts, but he has to scuttle to keep up with your marching pace.
"You should've kept your mouth shut," you grumble, trying to keep a neutral expression for the eyes you know are watching you, "And you ruined Sungchan's qualifying too."
Mark pauses at the comment and furrows his eyebrows together, "Sungchan? Since when do you care where he qualifies?"
Mark didn't exactly crash in the altercation with the Alpine, but he was so in his head and also driving erratically that he had accidentally impeded his own teammate on the track who was on his own flying lap. Thankfully, the stewards considered the situation that happened just seconds beforehand and let him off with a warning, but Sungchan had only managed 8th in the end.
"We're friends," you snap, "Weren't you the one that suggested that?"
"Jeez, I'm just gonna stop talking," Mark sighs defeatedly at your tone.
"That would've been useful yesterday," you mutter under your breath. Your older brother shoots you an exasperated look, but you shoo him away to where he needed to go as you reached the Ferrari area.
You situate yourself in the majorly empty garage with most personnel headed to the team meeting before the race. You wave and greet the few members of staff loitering about, but for the most part, you busy yourself with the emails piling up in your inbox.
Time passes around you in the form of mechanics and engineers passing in and out like one of those movie montages and you don't know how long it's been until a hand taps you on your head to call your attention.
"No way," your mouth drops when you see your visitor, "I didn't know you were coming."
Eunseok's girlfriend returns your grin as you sweep her up in a hug. It's been a while since you've seen her- not since the season started even!
She laughs melodiously, "I didn't think I was able to come either, but I was able to swap my shift last minute so I could attend race day. Japan's not too far anyway. How've you been- do you wanna pop out and get lunch at one of the stands?"
Mark's gonna be occupied in the meeting for a good while, so you agree and link arms with your first friend you met through F1.
"What's it like doing the whole travelling to every race thing? And officially working for your brother?" she asks you. In the corner of your eyes, you spot a few people stop and snap a pic of the two of you as you peruse the paddock for food.
"It's already exhausting travelling and this is only race 3 of 24," you sigh, "And Mark pissed me off bad yesterday. Did you see what he said to the press?"
She giggles in guilt, "I did see the buzz on social media, yeah. It's okay; it happens. Remember when Eunseok crashed with Namjoon last year?"
You click your tongue, "Maybe I should get Mark his own separate PR manager? I can just do everything else as his general manager."
"Nah, he'll remember now for every time he thinks about running his mouth to the media," she reassures you, "Has the team been treating you well?"
"Duh! They're all lovely even though I'm one of the youngest," you gush, "They're don't boss me around like some might do to their driver's PA. I don't know if maybe it's cause I'm his sister too, but they've been good."
"Everyone would love you no matter what," she dismisses.
You became friends with Eunseok's girlfriend early in the previous season at a race you were both fortunate enough to attend. She'd gotten lost trying to find her way back to Mercedes' area in Saudi Arabia and you had asked if she was okay, since she looked on the verge of tears. You exchanged social media accounts and got lunch in the city centre the Friday before the Melbourne GP and the rest was history.
You didn't make it to every race of the last season as you finished up your final year of university and she was a newly qualified doctor, so it was hard to see each other often, but you kept in touch.
You both decide on a lounge set up in the paddock and take a seat away from the glass front. You order pretty quickly and the server promises to return with your food as quickly as possible.
"You know what though?" she begins with a small, tight frown, "It's gonna be hard for you to date now you have to travel so much. You're never gonna be in one place at one time."
"Psh, I'm not even thinking about dating!" your voice raises in pitch and volume in defence, "Plus, you and Eunseok make it work."
Her face contorts into this kind of pained expression, "We do, but it's hard. But we've been together a long time, so it's been a more gradual shift to the full on F1 calendar and career. I guess you should just date someone who works and travels with an F1 team. Do you want me to get Eunseok to ask around who's single?"
You bat at her arm, "I'm not trying to date, seriously. I'm busy enough as it is trying to adjust to being Mark's manager!"
"Text me when you change your mind," she rolls her eyes playfully, "Do you wanna watch the race together? Or do you have to be at the Ferrari garage?"
"I'm not actually sure on the etiquette on that, but I should probably be at Ferrari to make sure I can drag Mark away quickly with my hand covering his mouth in case he starts getting mouthy again," you sigh in annoyance, "We can catch the next race together, whenever you'll make it next."
"I'll be in Miami," she confirms happily, "We can party it up on Jungkook's boat after!"
"You mean his mega-yacht?" you snort. The Mercedes legend has a reputation for hosting the best and wildest parties on his yacht, which you were yet to experience. However, he did invite your brother once to have dinner on the yacht, catered by a Michelin-starred chef, which he graciously dragged you to despite you not knowing anyone on that vessel.
"It's mammoth," she emphasises, "Oh, I'm excited!"
When you finish eating, you drop her off to Mercedes' garage and elbow your way through the buzzing crowd to get back to Ferrari. It was less than hour before the race now, so it was getting busy both around the paddock and in the garage. You could see both Mark and Sungchan on their respective sides, floating between their car and the engineering station.
They're close to sending the car out on the grid for the reconnaissance laps, so the drivers stand out from their team in their matching fireproofs. Mark gives you a rushed, but enthusiastic wave as you settle yourself if your usual corner of the garage and you give him two thumbs up to wish him luck. Sungchan, on the other hand, spots you a few minutes later and surprises you by jogging on over to you.
You haven't spoken to him since he dropped you back off at your hotel in Maranello, but you did follow each other on Instagram a few days ago, which was instigated by him. It's been a busy weekend, so other than waving at you in passing during media day, FP sessions and before qualifying, there had been no instances of greeting each other properly.
"Hi Sungchan," you grin as he bounds on over to you, "Good luck today."
"Thanks Y/N. Haven't had the chance to say hi all weekend," he runs a free hand through his soft locks as he grips his balaclava tight in the other.
"It's been busy," you agree, "But you'll do great out there. I know Mark made it hard for you yesterday, though."
Sungchan looks over his shoulder briefly, watching Mark preside over his engineers with hands on his hips, but he just shrugs, "Part of racing and he didn't mean to. Obviously, he didn't know it was me and I would have been way less composed after a collision."
As a racer, Sungchan's been involved in more collisions, accidents and incidents than he would've liked to admit- it was part of the sport. Over the years, he's learned how to deal with them and how to pick himself up after and keep going even when it hurt or he felt guilty.
But it was his rookie season in the top flight and despite the fact that he knows it's only a matter of time before his first mistake, he's trying his best to hold it off as long as possible.
You reach out to touch his arm and he's thankful his layers are so thick that you don't feel him tense up under your grip, "You're gonna do great, Sungchan," you repeat.
His eyes, large, glossy and unreadable, peer down at you as his lips tug up at the corners, "Forza Ferrari, then. Enjoy the race. See you later?"
You don't know what later means; it could mean dinner or it could mean 4 days later in Bahrain, but you nod and send him away, in a manner and motion that you don't even do to your brother. You don't know how to describe your friendship with Sungchan, but he's quickly becoming an important character in your life, which scares you a little.
꒰🏎️꒱
ROUND 05 - SAUDI ARABIA GRAND PRIX
Whenever Mark has a difficult race, he has a routine. He doesn't have these often, thankfully, but you've sussed him out by now.
He finishes the race and thanks his engineers and team- they work so hard despite everything. He composes himself in the garage and accepts he has to do his media duties and he fibs and reassures the world that he's okay and promises to come back stronger the next weekend.
It must be hard to be a previous world champion- everyone expects you to do it again and again no matter how much the world changes around you from the drivers to the cars to the rulebooks to the tracks to the tyres and to the officials.
You know that Mark carries himself with grace through the team meetings after hard races, but then you also know that he holes up in his hotel, orders a bunch of food and goes MIA for that night once he finishes all his obligations. He doesn't need or want anyone to comfort him; he just needs some space and time.
He doesn't like it when someone rubs his back and tells him something was not his fault when it was. He doesn't like it when he's coo'd false promises and he hates it even more when people look at him in pity.
So, you don't exactly know what to do when Sungchan DNF's in his 5th F1 race in his rookie season after a Haas dives into the side of his car and takes out his wings.
You've been tuned in to his feed the past few laps and the heartbreak in his voice was evident when he finally cut through the silence.
"I'm sorry, fuck. I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened," his voice isn't altogether clear over the radio, but even still, you could hear the pain.
His engineer buzzes in, "Are you okay, Sungchan?"
"Yeah, yeah. Fuck. I'm sorry."
"You're okay, that's all that matters. We're bringing the car back, just stay there. Virtual safety car is up," his engineer tells him.
It takes at least 5 laps for the safety car period to end and what felt like a lifetime before the car and the driver arrived back at the garage. You couldn't see much of the car by way of every mechanic immediately pouncing on it for repair, but Sungchan loomed over all figures in the room.
He stayed by his team principal and race engineer's side for a while, speaking in hushed tones with eyebrows tugged together. His race suit was gathering at his waist and he was nervously running his hands through his hair.
To divert your attention, you switch back to Mark's race. From P6, he had managed to get himself up to P3 by lap 30 and was less than 2 seconds behind the silver medal position. The Ferrari garage was still locked in, vying for another win for their top driver, so the atmosphere hadn't changed too much.
You had focused so much of your attention on the screen ahead of you, that you didn't even notice when Sungchan came to your side until he taps the plastic of your red over-ear headphones.
"Sungchan, hey," you slip the device off your head, "Are you okay?"
His lips form into a pout, "It fucking sucks. Did you see it?"
You don't nod, but instead give him a tight smile, "It wasn't your fault."
"I could've done more to avoid it. Swerved, or something," he sighs dejectedly, "They're sending me to the media centre. I know Mark's still racing, but can you walk with me? I don't have anyone here with me. Changmin's away this weekend and I don't know what to fucking do-"
"Hey, hey, hey," you reach out to steady him and grab at his forearm, "I'm here with you. Don't worry. I'll come with you."
Sungchan meets your eyes properly and his glassy orbs display his every emotion. He lets out this deep, dreadful sigh from the centre of his chest as he chews at his lips and nods, "Thanks, Y/N. Can you wait here? I'm just gonna get changed out of this."
He comes back a few minutes later from his driver's room in the team shirt and matching cap, still not looking all the settled. You keep up with his pace all the way to the media centre, which isn't hard because he's dragging his feet to prolong the journey instead of his usual large strides with his long, long legs.
"What should I say to them?" he murmurs under his breath as the building comes into view. The paddock isn't busy as the race is still ongoing so there's no one coming up to him for any random reason, "I mean, I know what to say but like- Ugh, this is the worst."
You swallow hard and turn your brain onto PR manager mode, "Just try and look calm, okay? Just tell them it was a tricky situation, but that's what happens in racing. Just tell them you'll come back stronger next time. They just wanna make sure you're okay too."
Sungchan's lips are seconds away from bleeding by the way he's tugging at them with his teeth and even now, he's avoiding any eye contact with you or anybody else you pass for that matter. Just as you reach the building, you pause in your tracks to try give him a pep talk.
"Sungchan I know it sucked, but you're gonna be okay, yeah? You're an amazing, amazing driver and this was just a small mistake and accident that wasn't even your fault for the most part," you attempt to reassure him, "You're not gonna lose your seat over this and the team adore you and know that this is just something that happens. You've been doing so great the past 4 races and it's so early in the season. You've already proven yourself to the tifosi who love you and the racing world adore you too. It's gonna be okay, Sungchan. I promise."
Sungchan listens to you with an unreadable expression which melts softly as your words come to a close. By the door of the media centre, he unexpectedly pulls you in for a hug.
"Thanks, Y/N," he pulls away before you even react, "I'm so grateful you're here."
"Anytime, Sungchan."
꒰🏎️꒱
BREAK BETWEEN ROUND 05 AND 06
Your brother is eyeing you suspiciously from the couch perpendicular to the one you were sat cris-cross on. He was all squinted stares and furrowed eyebrows too as he periodically looks between the TV and then back at you.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" you huff in annoyance as you finally speak up on his 15th head turn, "Just watch the goddamn movie."
Mark decided a few hours ago that he was gonna dedicate the whole day to watching Spider-Man films, but he wasn't watching them in any particular order. You don't really know how it makes sense to watch The Amazing Spider-Man 2 and then Spider-Man: Far From Home and then Spider-Man 3, but whatever makes him happy during the break, you guess.
It's nearing dinner time, which means one thing: Lee Donghyuck is probably around the corner, just himself and his spare key to the apartment ready to devour whatever Mark plans to order in. You're not really sure why they don't live together, but you've already claimed the second room in the apartment so it's too late now.
"You keep smiling at your phone," Mark says observantly, suspiciously, "And you're wearing like, real clothes."
"God forbid your sister is happy," you grumble at his insinuation, "Am I not allowed to smile?"
"Yeah, but, like, you never smile," Mark says this like it's the most obvious thing, "Are you watching funny TikToks? Send them to me!"
Your brother is so unserious, it hurts. No one would think he's a multiple-time F1 champion.
"I'm going out for dinner," you finally tell him, your voice as steady as you can make it.
Mark's interest piques with this as he sits up straight and pauses the film, "What? With who? You don't know anyone in Monte Carlo."
"You're actually horrible. You don't think I can make friends?" you throw the pillow in your lap at him, which he dodges with his quick reflexes.
"Well, yeah. So who?" he presses on.
"It doesn't matter," you whine, regretting even telling him instead of just walking out.
"As your older brother, I'd say that it actually does matter. What if you're meeting a serial killer? Or a stalker? Or an undercover pap or journalist who's gonna infiltrate our family? Someone with bad intentions?" Mark begins to show signs of distress as he stands up and paces back and forth in front of you, "Did you meet them in Monaco? Are they from a rich family? Do they work here? How is this the first I've heard of you meeting someone here?"
Your phone buzzes in the pocket you've hid it in, signifying to you that your company for the evening has stopped driving and is presumably outside. You stand up and collect your bag from the side table, as well as your shoes by the door. You can feel Mark's eyes follow you around the apartment.
"Y/N? Y/N! Where are you going?" Mark calls over in concern. It's kinda fun to wind up your brother like this, but you decide to put him out of his misery.
"I'm going to dinner," you deadpan, unlocking the front door, "Now if you'll excuse me, Sungchan is downstairs."
You shut the door behind you, but not before you hear him exclaim in the most confused tone possible, "Sungchan? My teammate Sungchan?"
Your phone buzzes again when you get in the elevator and you check to see if its from Sungchan, but instead you're faced with capital letters and exclamation marks.
Markie: ARE YOU GUYS DATING?!!!!!!!!!!!
Markie: Y/N WHAT THE FLIPPPPPPPP ANSWER ME
You laugh, shaking your head at your dramatic brother.
Y/N: we're just friends!! you're fun to wind up
Markie: Y/N YOUR CURFEW IS 9:30PM
Y/N: in ur dreams, lol, ur not my mother. i'll be back when i wanna be back
Sungchan is dressed in black from head to toe as he leans against the passenger door on the side of the street. He's watching you exit the building in amusement, his hands in his pocket.
"Hey, Channie," you greet him enthusiastically.
"Your brother says I need to come up after I drop you home," he quirks an eyebrow at you.
"Ha, did he text you?"
Sungchan laughs a little and shakes his head, pointing upwards, "He's watching us."
Horror immediately rushes through your veins as you cock your neck back to see your brother dangling over the balcony with a smirk on his face.
"Mark! Fuck off!" he mirrors the way you flip him off.
"10:30 latest, Jung!" he calls out to your company.
"We're just friends," you shout up at him, "You never gone out for dinner with friends?"
"Not on their first day moving to the city! Why are you the first person he's seeing in Monaco?"
You grumble to Sungchan, "Sorry about him. Should we just leave?"
Sungchan chuckles at your exchange with your brother, moving to open the passenger door for you. It's the same Ferrari you rode in Maranello, so he must have road-tripped it over.
"Bye Mark!" Sungchan bids your brother a goodbye as he jogs around to the driver's side and you can see Mark still watching from the balcony as Sungchan drives you away.
You're still giggling by the first corner and Sungchan eyes you cautiously from his seat, "I know he's your brother, but I don't wanna piss off the first driver on my team. What if he has me kicked off?"
You roll your eyes playfully, "Mark would never do that. He's just joking around."
"I know, I know. Mark's one of the kindest people I've met, but you're still his little sister. The look he gave me when I looked up and realised he was there- oh, chills down my spine!" he exclaimed as he gripped the wheel tighter.
"It's not like we're dating," you state, "I don't know, maybe it's cause I've never really had male friends around him and with our parents so far away, he's trying to take on that protective role."
Sungchan goes quiet, tapping on the steering wheel, "Hm, yeah. I guess."
꒰🏎️꒱
He had previously detailed to you in Maranello that he wasn't exactly a Michelin-started chef, so instead, he took you to a 2 star restaurant whose name you couldn't even begin to pronounce despite the years of French you've taken in school.
Sungchan is sitting across from you, a knife and a fork clutched in his hand tightly.
"Sungchan, I know you said we were gonna go to a pretty fancy restaurant, but I feel severely underdressed," you look down at your pleated trousers and your pink blouse and then at the lady at the table across in a silk dress and gloves.
"Relax, we're cosplaying as mega rich today and they don't dress up that much to go out to dinner," Sungchan tries to reassure you. He's dressed pretty simple too, but not casual enough to have been denied entry at the door.
"Are our wallets cosplaying mega rich too?"
He looks at you pointedly, "Our? I'm paying, of course. And well to be honest, I got a pretty big raise going from reserve slash academy to sitting in the second seat. What else am I gonna splash my money on?"
Your cheeks flush, "If you pay it's gonna feel like a date. We should split."
He smirks subtly and a glint twinkles in his eye, "All the more reason for me to pay then."
Your food comes in small portions, but feels endless in courses. It's interesting to listen to the waiter babble on about the fancy ingredients and the elusive concept, but the dinner is made more special by your company.
Sungchan is simply nice to be with. He has wit- joking about the food and never missing a beat to banter with you- and he has a lot of charm. You're not really sure how he's never had a girlfriend before, but you know through your brother that their career takes up so much of their time and focus. Sungchan's the kind of guy that every girl would have fawned over in school, the kind of colleague all the ladies in an office would talk about and vie for, but he's here, with you, in one of Monaco's upscale restaurants.
Maybe that's saying something about your relationship with him that you haven't yet accepted has changed.
After dinner (where yes, he did end up paying), he drives the two of you down to the port and you walk shoulder to shoulder under the streetlights and between the twinkles of the yacht lights reflecting off the water.
"Have you driven here before?" you look behind you at the road, which was still busy despite the time. Monaco was truly alive in the evening.
"Mhm, it's on the F2 and F3 calendar so I've done it a good few times. It's a really difficult race if you're not in pole, but I enjoy it," Sungchan reminisces, "I won it last year in F2."
"You just had to add that, didn't you?" you tease him by bumping your shoulder against his.
Sungchan chuckles melodiously, "I don't get to say that about many places to many people. And this year will probably taint my memory and feeling of the race, so gotta enjoy it while I can."
"Hey, you should really back yourself more. You're a good driver; you wouldn't be in a Ferrari seat if you weren't. Who knows- you could repeat it again!" you were chant in a motivating tone.
A soft smile decorates Sungchan's face as he sighs happily, "You know, I really appreciated you telling me you were cheering for me in China. Even if you support me because I'm your brother's teammate and you feel like you have to, it was nice of you to support me. It was kind of hard at the start of the season since no one thought I'd be able to perform well or deliver at all, so your support made me really happy."
Your heart swells, "I cheer for you because you deserve it and I believe in you. Even if at the start, it was because of that, it certainly isn't now. You're such a good person, Sungchan- I'll always support you."
He's trying to hide his blush from you as the breeze pushes the two of you along the harbour, "Even if I beat your brother one day?"
"He's already got some championships," you dismiss casually, "I hope I'm there for your first F1 win."
"Might be a while, so don't hold your breath."
"Sungchan! I just said you have to back yourself," you whine at him and punctuate, "Believe. In. Your. Self."
"Okay, fine. I'll win a race soon, just so I know that you'll be there watching," Sungchan rolls his eyes playfully, "I'll dedicate my win to you."
"Ha! As if."
"What, can't I dedicate a win to a friend?" he says the final word with some kind of disdain that you check his face- all scrunched up and cute.
"Why'd you say it like that?" you prod teasingly.
Sungchan glances quickly at you to find you already looking at him, so he turns away as his ears go red, "Stop!" he whines.
"Stop what?"
"I know I'm being obvious," Sungchan murmurs shyly, "Being friends for now is good, but you know, in the future-"
"In the future, what?"
Sungchan stops in his tracks to stomp his feet adorably, "Y/N, you're doing this on purpose!" his face is heated up like a tomato while you double over in laughter, "Don't make me say it."
"Say what?"
Sungchan huffs and rolls his eyes, refusing to speak and instead grabs your hand to keep the two of you walking despite being the one to stop.
"You're fun to tease, just like my brother," you're still laughing and he's still holding your hand, softly, gently.
"You're a menace," he utters with a smile on his face, "I hate that I like it."
"I like your company too, Sungchan," you giggle, pressing your arm against him, your entwined hands squishing between the two of you, "You're not the only one."
Sungchan looks at you, a content expression on his handsome features, "Good. That's good."
꒰🏎️꒱
ROUND 06 - MIAMI GRAND PRIX
No matter the outcome of the race, there was one sure thing about the Miami Grand Prix since it started running- and that was the fact that Jungkook will always, without fail, host the best party of the entire year that's second to none in your brother's opinion. Mark invited you to come in the previous years, but the Miami GP always fell around the season of deadlines and you weren't sure about partying with people that you haven't met the majority of.
Of course, tonight's going to be packed with strangers too, but you're hoping the occasional familiar face will help you settle in and feel more comfortable. If all else fails, you're sticking with Eunseok's girlfriend.
With another win for your brother in the bag and a slew of interviews later, you were finally clocking off and being chauffeured from the hotel to the dock. You're hoping and praying to the gods that Mark doesn't do anything at the party that would amount to more work for you, such as cleaning up after his messes in the press, but even if he decides to get a little wilder to celebrate his win, he told you that Jungkook's security for the party is absolutely second to none- completely iron clad. There was nothing illegal happening on the boat, of course, but the drivers and their acquaintances deserve a little privacy here and there to act freely.
"No groupies, no fans, no one that can't be trusted," Mark tells you again in the car, "So go crazy. Not that anyone's gonna be paying attention to you, but just in case you get close to any drivers tonight."
You shove his side and he snarls at you, "I didn't even say a name! You can get it on with Mingyu from Mercedes for all I care- well actually, don't do that, but, y'know."
Mark stops his train of thought when you give him a death stare and diverts the topic onto what he thought about the race. You stand off to the side for so many of his interviews, but it's always hard to listen because of all the noise on the track. He's blabbering about the safety car and the situation that happened halfway through the race when Eunseok's girlfriend texts you that they've made it onto the yacht.
"- and I know Donghyuck is my best friend, but I swear he lives to get under my skin on the tract," Marks tuts in annoyance beside you, "Raced wheel-to-wheel with me instead of letting me pass when he was a pit stop behind me anyway. Prick."
"I'm sure he's just vying for entertainment in the midfield. That's just how he is," you hum along, "Who's that driver who retired but was a pain in the ass to everyone for his own entertainment?"
"Oh, Jeonghan? I don't know why McLaren kept him so long. Amazing driver but was always on the verge of a race ban with his penalty points," Mark chuckles in remembrance, "The grid's a bit more calm this year with so many rookies from last season and this season; no one's taking insane risks yet."
"Good. I hate seeing crashes," you counter, "Sungchan was so sad in Saudi Arabia after his crash."
Mark's face contorts into constipation from holding back from teasing you, but it slips his lips as he coos in a high-pitch tone, "Oooo, Sungchan. How was loverboy after the race anyway? I didn't get to see him since we had separate meetings today."
You resist the urge to snap at him and breathe in and out deeply, "I haven't seen him either. I was with you, remember?"
"Oh yeah. Then let's congratulate him properly for his second P4 finish! So insane!" Mark claps happily, doing a little dance in his seat. Because of Sungchan's good performances, they were steadily fighting for the top spot of the Constructor's Championship. You had managed to send Sungchan a congratulatory text, but other than the rushed 'thank you!!' and 'see you soon!:)' he was able to send you because he was whisked away by his team, you hadn't spoken to him.
The car pulls up to the dock and you momentarily marvel at the flashy, jaw-dropping yachts before Mark drags you to the direction of the brightest and loudest boat of the line up.
"C'mon, if we're late they'll actually just leave," Mark murmurs under his breath. It's all sights he's used to so he doesn't realise you're trying to take in the surroundings, but you forgive him for the sole fact that because he was the winner of the race, Jungkook gave him rights to skip the queue of people trying to get on the boat.
Haechan gives the two of you the stink-eye and the bird as he waits for security to get through everyone.
Jungkook is deep in host-duties as you step on the boat following an extensive search. He daps up Mark and congratulates him on the win before turning to you, "Y/N, right? It's good to see you again!"
"Thank you for letting me come. I've heard lots of things about your Miami parties," you greet him pleasantly.
"Mark's been talking about inviting you for years, so I'm glad you could make it. Haven't seen you much in the paddock this season yet," Jungkook cocks his head.
"I'm always hiding in the Ferrari garage. I don't really know anyone to mingle in the paddock with," you tell him.
His face lights up, "Well then tonight is the perfect opportunity to meet the people that frequent the paddock! Mostly drivers, their partners and their entourage on the boat tonight. And if you're single, my party's matchmake'd a good handful of couples," his lid drops into a wink as he smirks.
"Trying to set my sister up right in front of me," Mark sighs in defeat beside you, "We'll see you around, Kook. Have to go find the other Ferrari."
"Tell him that overtake he did on me at Turn 11 was downright dirty, but incredible," Jungkook kisses his teeth as the memory from a few hours earlier surfaces, "I must have missed him coming aboard."
Mark drags you further afield into the boat, thanking everyone briefly that shouted congratulations his way, but he's steadfast on his journey. With such an exclusive guest list, the boat isn't too cramped yet despite being lively in nature so early in the night. You easily find Eunseok and his girlfriend towards the bow of the ship, delighting you to find her waiting with a drink in hand for you.
"Sorry, didn't get the race winner a drink," she says sheepishly at Mark who waves her off, "But congratulations."
Eunseok parrots the same sentiment to your brother.
"Thank you guys and don't worry- there's plenty of time for drinks," he smiles, "Have you guys seen Sungchan?"
You previously told Eunseok's girlfriend that you were hanging out with Sungchan a lot and enjoying his company and her mouth had dropped in shock that she didn't think to put the two of you together despite him driving for Ferrari as he was also Eunseok's best friend on the grid. You'd identified they were close with the stories Sungchan would tell you about his karting days and junior career, but you wanted to wait to see if there was even anything to say to your friend to not make it a big deal.
"He came on with us but I think Taeyong dragged him away. I told him to come back here now," Eunseok flashes his phone at you to their texts. Mark just hums and leaves quickly, saying that he'll come back again later in the night after making sure you'd be okay with the company.
His girlfriend hooks her arm around yours and clinks your drinks together in a cheers, "We're finally having a night out together since we first met. Let's go crazy!"
"I don't know if crazy is the right word. I don't wanna fall off the edge of the boat!" you squawk as you cast your eyes overboard to the steep drop down into the treacherous ocean.
"Please, your loverboy would never let that happen. He won't be able to take his eyes off you tonight regardless," she rolls her eyes playfully and bats at the tassels coming off your dress.
"No, you look so good," you squeeze her arm.
Eunseok scoffs in front of the two of you, "Get a room, geez!"
"Watch your back," you stick your tongue out at him teasingly as his girlfriend giggles beside you.
Eunseok opens his mouth to reply, but then his eye catches on something behind you that makes him smirk.
"Y/N, you're here. Finally," you feel her arm slip away from yours as you hear that familiar, deep and comforting voice behind you through the buzz of the party.
Sungchan is dressed in a full-black outfit complete with a leather jacker over his shoulders, perfectly matching your black dress.
Your arms reach up instinctively around his neck to pull him into a hug, while his hands find home on the exposed skin on the small of your back, setting your nerves on fire in the way they linger there.
"Congratulations on P4 again. You're amazing. I'm so proud of you," you whisper up to his ear.
"Thank you. That really means a lot from you," his voice is soft and appreciative, as he rubs the area cut out from the back of your dress, "And you look so incredible tonight."
You pull away, already knowing your cheeks are red, but his hands stretch and stay clasped around your waist for a beat too long. You don't even question it, not even when he releases one hand, but keeps a hold onto your waist and pulls you by his side.
Eunseok and his girlfriend's eyebrows are raised in amusement when you finally remember their existence, but they don't say anything and just sip their drink instead.
"Where'd you go?" Eunseok asks your companion, who was radiating all his body heat to you even in the gusty Miami breeze.
"Taeyong was introducing me to his team," Sungchan says off-handedly, "What are you guys drinking?"
"Mojitos," you tell him, showing him the cup in your hand and bringing it up to his lip, "Want some?"
Sungchan hums in agreement, capturing your straw with his plump lips, "Mhm, that's good. Let's get more when you finish."
"You two are gross," Eunseok grumbles, but the two of you cock your head in confusion at him. He just bats away at you and turns to his girlfriend, "Babe, let's go mingle and leave these two alone."
His girlfriend agrees instantly, dropping you a not-so-subtle wink as she's whisked away into the crowd. It leaves you alone with Sungchan, him watching the party as you become all too aware of his hand still around your waist.
"Someone's touchy tonight," you murmur softly, not accusatory.
He doesn't let go, but looks down at you with that fond look on his face, "Is that okay?"
Your heart thumps in your chest, "Mhm, yeah."
"Good."
Later on in the night, you found yourself in the lounge inside of the boat where it was lit up by lamps, but people weren't any less drunk. A group was playing card games around you, but you were tucked up against Sungchan's side, trying to sober up a little bit after you both had too many cocktails. There was no reason for Jungkook to have over 20 enticing cocktails on the menu, seriously!
After a bit of dancing once the mega-yacht started sailing and there was no exit until you docked back, you were winding down inside.
"You doing okay?" he whispers down to you after his turn in the game passed.
Your fingers clutched at the fabric of his black button up, leather jacket long gone, "Yeah. I'm comfy, don't worry."
"Tell me if you wanna go get some air, mhm?" he pats your head sweetly. Across the room, on another sprawling couch, Eunseok's girlfriend wiggles her eyebrows at you.
From the outside, it's obvious you and Sungchan are more than friends. There's no denying it, even between the both of you. At least you hoped you were reading the situation right. But you hadn't really tiptoed past that line that cemented being beyond friends- it feels like you're just waiting for the time or moment to come.
There's a commotion and a clash across the room as a door swings open, letting in a a whiff of fresher air and then slams closed.
"Fuck, I'm so drunk. Can I sit down?" your brother, who you definitely forgot existed, stumbles into the room.
"There's no space," Haechan groans, "Sit on the floor."
"Noooo, I need to collapse on this couch right now. Y/N, just sit on your boyfriend's lap," Mark whines impatiently, pointing at the two of you. The whole room practically ceases all noise, everyone turning their head to look at you.
"Mark, I'm gonna throw you overboard," you grit your teeth at him.
Sungchan just laughs deeply beside you as he looks over, "Y/N, it's fine. Your brother looks like he needs to sit down. You mind?"
Hesitantly, you get up from your very comfy position and Sungchan shuffles over to get under you. You make no move to sit, so he hooks his arm around your waist and pulls you down onto him, making you giggle nervously.
"Tell me if I'm too heavy," you twist your head to look at him, surprising yourself with the close distance down to his face.
You don't know if your eyes deceive you, but his eyes flicker down to your lips for just a split second before he shakes his head, "You're as light as a feather. Have you seen my muscles?"
You choke back a scoff and swat at him, but he squeezes his arms around your midriff instead to make you laugh.
"Anyway, how are you feeling? Still wasted?" his own words slur ever so slightly as you deny his question.
"Tipsy, but not as bad as earlier," your head still feels heavy on your neck, lolling to one side, but everything seems a bit clearer with every second that passes, "Our first time getting drunk together!"
Sungchan fights back the cheesy smile that threatens to take over once he heard the word 'our' come from your lips. He could definitely get used to that.
"Okay, good. Keep drinking your water, mhm?" he hums, nodding over to the table crowded with cards, cocktail glasses and bottles of beer, sodas and water.
"You're acting like my parent. Even Mark's not this vigilant," you jut your chin over to your brother, who is sprawled on the end of the plush couch, moments away from slipping off but sitting without a care in the world. His eyes are scrunched together tightly, trying to block out the light and you just know he's concentrating on stopping the room from spinning.
"Your brother just won so I guess he can get drunk off his ass. Therefore, I gotta make sure you make it off the boat in one, pretty piece," he humphs behind you.
You twist your body, "He didn't put you on babysitting duty, did he?"
Sungchan chortles, "Of course not. And he doesn't have to. I wanna take care of you."
"Oh," you relax in his hold, "Okay. Thanks Channie."
"You're gonna be at lunch tomorrow, right?" he moves topics quickly, but it doesn't slip past you the way he leans forward so his lips are pretty much pressed and moving against the bare skin of your shoulder.
You freeze in the moment and melt when he murmurs your name against your skin to get your attention again.
"Oh, yeah. With Eunseok and his girlfriend? Of course. Gosh, we've both been so busy this weekend- I had to ask her to tell you all the details," you sigh deeply, "How do we work for the same team and barely see each other sometimes? Well, it's cause you're a big shot formula one driver and I have to be following around my brother and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid, which is highly likely at any given moment-"
"Definitely still tipsy. You're so talkative when you're tipsy," he's found out this fact about you over the course of the night, "But it's okay. As long as you'll be there tomorrow."
"Sungchan! Hey!" a face that's distantly familiar appears above you. Lee Taeyong smiles down at the two of you, a bottle in hand, "This must be your girlfriend. I had no idea."
"Girlfriend?" you cock your head at him, "I'm Lee Y/N. Mark's sister." You point at your brother, who is now curled up into a ball as Haechan looms over him, snapping pictures on his phone.
Kim Jungwoo apparates beside his McLaren teammate, swinging an arm around his shoulder, "He's such an idiot. I told him Sungchan had a girl. Nice to meet you officially, Y/N."
You've heard lots of good things about the pair as they're pretty close to your brother, but you had never properly met them until now.
"I'm sorry- I didn't know for sure," Taeyong pouts.
Behind you, Sungchan is tense. You can feel it in the way his grip tightens.
"Huh?"
Your face must have displayed the epitome of confusion as Taeyong looks at you apologetically, "My cousin thought Sungchan was cute and I thought he was single so I dragged him to introduce them at the start of the night. I would have never done that if I knew, Y/N. I don't mean to disrespect you at all. Thanks for introducing my cousin to Theo though, Sungchan. I think she thinks he's even cuter than you!"
Your perplexity only triples as Taeyong goes on and you nervously turn around to your companion who gives you a sheepish look.
"It's alright, guys. We're gonna go outside now, though, if you wanna take my seat," Sungchan taps on your hip to get you to stand up. Wordlessly, but still confused, you follow his command. The two McLaren drivers beam at you as they wave goodbye and you don't even realise that Sungchan is holding your hand all the way to the deck until he stops and separates your hands to brush his through his hair.
"What just happened?" you laugh incredulously, "I am so confused right now. Did I get more drunk? Did I hallucinate that?"
Sungchan's lips tug into a guilty smile, "Taeyong tried to set me up with his cousin. I didn't wanna lead her on or anything so I said I wasn't available. Theo from Haas walked past at that moment so I introduced him instead."
"Oh," your mouth flattens at the idea of Sungchan being set up with someone, but then your heart explodes into butterflies, "Yeah, it probably did look like I was your girlfriend sat on your lap like that."
"Good. I don't want anyone getting the wrong idea about me again," Sungchan's voice drops low as he leans against the rails of the ship. His eyes are dark, his lids fluttering slowly in his slightly tipsy state.
It's getting windier and colder as the night goes on and the sound of the sea crashing on itself seems to intensify as silence occupies the space between you.
"Sungchan?" you look up at him to find him already staring down at you, something unreadable in his large eyes.
"Yeah?"
"You're not as drunk either now, are you?" you ask quietly.
"Nope. My head's crystal clear, promise," he utters truthfully.
"Okay."
A breeze runs through your figures and you shake at the coolness. Sungchan frowns and pulls you to his body, wrapping you up in a hug, "Shit, let's go find my jacket and find somewhere else inside. You're gonna freeze out here."
Hesitantly, you wrap your arms around him, letting his body heat migrate to you, "Yeah, let's. But for now, you're pretty warm."
Sungchan drops his chin on top of your head, "Then let's stay like this for a bit longer, mhm?"
You pull your head back to meet his eyes, "Sungchan?"
"Yes, Y/N?" he says again, expression fond.
"I heard kissing is a really efficient way to warm up."
Sungchan's face doesn't even display surprise as he smirks cheekily, "Oh really? Maybe we should try that out."
"Yeah, it's really cold."
Even in your heels, you still have to reach up on your tiptoes to meet his face halfway, steadily pressing your lips against his as his hands come up to cup your flushed cheeks.
His lips sets your body ablaze as he moves his mouth slowly, but desperately against yours. You melt into his touch as you deepen the kiss with every beat and the way you feel him yearn against you is so delicious. It feels like you've been waiting for this for so long- because you have- and it's even better than anything you could have conjured up in your imagination as relief floods your body to finally be so close to him.
"Y/N," he practically pleads as you both come up for air.
Your eyes sparkle in the moonlight as you pull him in for another kiss, never wanting this moment to end, "Sungchan, I'm still cold."
"Let me fix that. Can't let my girl be cold," he smiles against your lips.
꒰🏎️꒱
ROUND 07 - EMILIA-ROMAGNA GRAND PRIX
You've been lucky to attend a few Italian races while your brother's been racing for Ferrari. Other than racing in Canada, they're Mark's favourite races due to the passionate support of the tifosi- the roar of the crowd, the sea of red, the banners and the flags. Monza and Imola are staples in the calendar for your family to attend, so you're already used to cameras on you in the paddock. So far, you've asked to be kept off the screen as much as possible since you were now technically Ferrari staff, but if your family was around, you knew you'd end up on the broadcast for reactions.
Your family arrives only a couple of hours before lights out at Imola, choosing to skip the build-up days to extend their vacation for as long as possible. The calendar was going into a triple-header, so your family was excited to see three races in a span of just over two weeks.
"Is Mark driving you insane yet?" your mother snorts as she settles beside you in the Ferrari garage.
"You know it," you half-joke, knowing she's the one person who'd understand what you're going through, "At least you can relax, eomma."
"I know it's tricky sometimes, but I just wanna make sure that Mark has family around and he can take care of you too," your mother smiles softly. With the way the sport worked, drivers were constantly being sent around the world week on week and it could get isolating from your family sometimes, not being able to be still for a while. You wouldn't have it any other way, really.
"How's Monaco?" your dad asks from your other side. He's got a camera around his neck, ready for sightseeing once he's out of the garage. Your dad's hoping for a Mark victory to be able to capture all the love of the tifosi through his lens.
"I've barely seen any of it. After this race, this next week will probably be the longest I'll have been in the city since I moved there," you tell them honestly, "I've made a couple of friends."
"Friends? Y/N's got a boyfriend!" your elder brother sing-songs from behind you.
If there weren't so many people around, you would have turned around and pounced on Jinhyung.
"Y/N, he's coming to dinner tonight, right?" your dad's tone turns serious.
You groan, "Yes he is, but please do not be embarrassing or try to scare him. You'll probably see him briefly in a second."
"No promises," your dad pulls you into an affectionate side hug, "You'll forever be my little girl, Y/N. And he's the first boyfriend we're ever meeting!"
"Acting like Donghyuck's not practically your son's boyfriend," you jeer at them.
Right on time, you see two figures round the front of the garage. It's a funny picture- your middle brother with his arms slung around the shoulder of your almost-boyfriend despite the height difference. Mark's adorning a smirk, amused at the gravity of the situation, meanwhile Sungchan looks like he's three seconds away from combusting.
He meets your eyes and you try to give him a comforting smile.
"Eomma, appa, hyung, this is Sungchan. My teammate," Mark punctuates his final word, staring at you teasingly.
Sungchan waves nervously, bowing to them in greeting, "Hi! It's nice to finally meet you. I hope you enjoy the race."
"Aren't you so handsome! And tall!" your mother coo's. You're sure they've seen each other in passing before, either at Maranello or the races Sungchan substituted for previously, but it's their first time meeting officially.
You watch fondly as his cheeks tint pink and he begins to fiddle with the material of the fireproofs bunched up around his waist.
"And you've been such a good driver this season. You're very talented- definitely rookie of the year," your father compliments.
"How are you balancing being a Ferrari rookie AND dealing with both of these Lee's?" your eldest brother exclaims, "You deserve an award for that."
"You're the worst one!" you jeer at your brother and then swat away at your family, "Mark and Sungchan have a race to get to!"
You hug your brother good luck with your family following suit and you can sense Sungchan's eyes following you when you pull away from Mark, not knowing whether it was appropriate to approach you in front of your family.
His body relaxes in relief when you open your arms wide for him to slot himself into. You reach up on your toes and stop at his ear, "Good luck, Sungchan. I believe in you."
A hand squeezes at your waist in gratitude, "Thank you. See you after the race, baby."
꒰🏎️꒱
ROUND 08 - MONACO GRAND PRIX
There's a few moments in your life that you can still visualise and feel the nerves and tension of that situation to this day.
The bubbling in your stomach, the way the room and the people in it started to blur, the pounding of your heart against your chest- you were feeling all of it now and to an intensity you didn't even feel before walking the stage for your college graduation, nor walking into the hardest exam of your life.
You can feel your mother's hand in between your own tightly enclasped hands that are resting in your chin in a prayer. Every so often, you bring yourself back to consciousness and remind yourself to breathe.
Coming into Sunday, you were already very, very, very nervous and anxious. It was rare to find your brother qualifying outside of the front row, but some traffic impeding his Q3 flying lap and a set up that just wasn't completely optimised for the day had him in P4 coming into Sunday. Mark was optimistic - he had a good lead in the championship - so he was in a good mood before the race.
The biggest thing that made you nervous wasn't related to your brother - it was the fact Sungchan qualified in P3 ahead of him.
And was running the race with 3 laps to go in P1.
Monaco was one of Sungchan's favourite tracks in the world with the hairpin bends and incredible scenery. It's not a sentiment shared by everyone- it's hard to overtake, whoever qualifies first usually wind, blah, blah, blah. But Monaco remains one of the most prestigious races in all of motorsports and those who can survive and come out on top will go down in the history books.
Sure, the F1 world will say that there was luck involved if this does turn out to be the Ferrari rookie's first F1 win- a crash between P1 of Red Bull's Juyeon and P2 of Mercedes' Yeonjun was how Sungchan found himself leading the grand prix - but it was important to capitalise on what you were dealt with. It would've been so easy for Sungchan to panic and start to make mistakes, but he kept his cool and locked in.
"3 laps to go. Mark is still 4.3 seconds behind. Let's go to the end, Sungchan," his race engineer's voice is shaking over the speaker.
The atmosphere in the garage is nothing like you've ever experienced. Mark winning is just another race to them (not that it's any less exciting) so they have their routines and they know what to do.
Having watched each of Sungchan's races during his rookie season, you knew his first podium, let alone his first win, was just a matter of time, but to do it in Monaco? Only 8 races in? When the whole motorsports world was doubting him coming into the season? That was impressive.
"C'mon," you grit your teeth together and plea under your breath, eyes glued to the screens in the garage, "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon."
On the other side of you, Sungchan's mother crumples herself even deeper into Sungchan's father's chest. His brother is rubbing his hands together frantically in prayer. If there was a race to win for Sungchan, it was probably this one.
"Last lap, Sungchan. Give it everything," his engineer encourages softly as the car passes the starting grid for his final lap.
He makes the first turn gracefully and charges down the Beau Rivage. Behind him, the red of Mark's car appears in the distance, but he sweeps past Casino and reaches the part where your breath hitches and your heart stops beating. It's so terrifying watching the car come to such a slow speed all of a sudden as he whips the car around the hairpin of turn 6.
There's too many cars in the tunnel for you to let out your breath, but thankfully, they all move over expertly as they get lapped. You see the nerves getting to Sungchan as he grips his wheel even tighter trying to focus through the Nouvelle Chicane, but you blink and he's already at the Swimming Pool, moving at a blistering speed.
"Oh my God," Sungchan's mother starts crying the very second that Sungchan makes it safely past the very last turn and there's only a few seconds before he's barrelling through the finish line as winner of the 2025 Monaco Grand Prix.
You don't know what happens after. There was a lot of hugs from everyone around you. Then your brother points out that you're crying- even as much as you were when Mark won his first F1 race all of those years ago.
His family, who you met a few days ago, sweeps you up in a hug and you're all blabbering incoherently at each other.
Your headphones get knocked about, but they remain on your head long enough to hear his melodious, proud and exhausted screams as his engineer and team principal congratulates him on his win. Sungchan's voice cracks in gratitude over the radio as he thanks the team and all you want to do is pull him into the tightest hug and tell him how proud you are of him.
"Come, let's see them!" one of the Ferarri mechanics beckons over in the general direction.
You let go of his mother's hand, "Tell him I'm proud too!"
His mother gasps and gives you a pointed look, "No! You tell him. You have to come with us."
"I shouldn't. Your family deserves to celebrate this," you say hesitantly, reaching up to swipe your tears away.
His brother drops his arm around your shoulder and begins to drag you out of the garage, "You have to come for your brother anyway. The second Sungchan sees you there, he's gonna be so happy. He wants you there."
Your entire body is shaking as you watch from behind the engineers and the mechanics the cars pull into Parc Ferme. Sungchan clambers out of the car and when he stands on top of it and raises his arm in victory, your heart swells in pride.
The team are screaming, hyping him up as he runs over and when he jumps, they receive him with cries and congratulations. As he takes his helmet off, the team part in the middle and usher his family, and you, towards the barrier. You stand back in respect, watching Sungchan cry into his mother's neck and then into his Father's and brother's. When they move aside to reveal you, Sungchan's grin grows even wider.
"Come here," he calls over to you desperately.
In a flash, you're hooking your arms around his neck, being lifted off the ground as he tries to squeeze your body against his as best he could with the metal barrier between you.
"I'm so proud of you, Sungchan. You're an F1 winner. You just won the Monaco Grand Prix! Again!" you sob into him.
His breath is hot on your ear, "You're my lucky charm. Thank you for being by my side, Y/N."
When your feet reach the ground again and you pull away, you're taken by surprise when Sungchan's glove-covered hands come up to your cheek and then his mouth presses against yours faithfully. Your lips move against his in the cacophony of the Ferrari team's whistles and yelps, as well as the cheering of the supporters in the stands and presumably, of the millions of people at home watching.
The world quickly drowns out around you and all you can focus on is the sweet taste of him on your lips and the way his being and his soul envelops you in this blanket of warmth and light. And you know in that moment that you could do this forever.
a/n: thank you thank you thank you for reading. find my masterlist here & all likes, comments, reblogs and feedback are so, so appreciated <3
kiss, cry, fall in love | jung sungchan x reader [ ☼ ] - 19.3k
↳ figure skating!au, friends who kiss to lovers!au ✵ synopsis: jung sungchan is completely, utterly and hopelessly whipped for the struggling skater who keeps him at an arm’s length, yet loves the feeling of his mouth on hers in every corner of the globe.
for the rest of ours | song eunseok x reader [ ☼ | ☁ ] - 13.4k
↳ arranged marriage!au, chaebol heirs!au, e2l!au ✵ synopsis: you find song eunseok to be utterly and despicably insufferable. too bad he’s your fiancé since birth! and there was nothing you could do about it!
freedom ain’t nothing but missing you | jung sungchan x reader [ ☼ | ☁ ] - 13.6k
↳ college!au, second chance romance!au ✵ synopsis: the last time you saw him was when you looked over your shoulder at his weeping figure one last time at the airport. four seasons have passed and your heart tightens at the sight of his smiling face, wishing it was directed at you.
strangers who knew each other very well | jung sungchan x reader [ ☼ | ☁ ] - 18.6k
↳ second chance romance!au ✵ synopsis: you’re back in town for the first time in four years because your best friend is getting married. it sounds easy enough, apart from the fact that you broke the best man’s heart 4 years ago and haven’t dared shown your face since.
go ‘til lights out | jung sungchan x reader [ ☼ ] - 16.3k
↳ f1 driver!au ✵ synopsis: incoming f1 rookie jung sungchan is focused only on one thing: get through his first season without losing his seat by the end of it. ferrari’s taken a big chance on a rookie this year, and he’s not about to mess that up. on the other hand, your job is to keep your brother in the good graces of fans and media and draw all attention to your brother.. . and not yourself.
☆ ENHYPEN ->
way back home | park sunghoon x reader [ ☼ | ☁ ] - 22.4k
↳ e2l!au, figure skating!au ✵ synopsis: at the age of 5, you thought that you had made a life-long friend in park sunghoon. at the age of 16, you found out that life-long meant 11 years before you decided he was going to be your life-long enemy. but at 21, you’re confronted with your past together as your figure skating coach decides to move back home to where you used to skate together after almost 6 years away abroad.
☆ THE BOYZ ->
we’ll always have summer | lee juyeon x reader [ ☼ ] - 18.0k
↳ summer vacation!au, strangers to friends to lovers!au ✵ synopsis: during your post-college-graduation crisis, you meet lee juyeon during a 3 week lake house vacation with your mutual friends. serendipity watches over you as you get entangled into a whirlwind summer romance.
☆ SEVENTEEN ->
far away, so far away | yoon jeonghan x reader [ ☼ | ☁ ] - 6.9k
↳ college!au, best friends to lovers!au ✵ synopsis: cat plasters, blonde angels at the library, free pepero from the vending machine and café study breaks; medical school is not exactly how you thought it would be. enter your best friend’s best friend from LA and it all goes to hell.
almost midnight | kim mingyu x reader [ ☼ | ☁ ] - 5.6k
↳ best friends to lovers!au, coming of age!au ✵ synopsis: december thirty-first. kim mingyu finds his life entwined and woven with your life every new year’s eve and this year it’d be nice if he didn’t kiss just any other girl who sat next to him when the ball dropped for the sake of the sentiment.
oceans and engines | joshua hong x reader [ ☼ ] - 15.2k
↳ exes to lovers!au, idol x producer!au ✵ synopsis: when hong jisoo left his beloved hometown at 18 years old, he also left you, his proclaimed great love. it takes another 7 years for you to catch up to him again and close the oceans in between you.
mixtape #17: songs about a boy [2/13 posted] [on hold]
hyung line masterlist | maknae line masterlist
↳ 13 stories inspired by 13 taylor swift songs
↳ most recent: track 1. with you, i’d dance in a storm | s.coups
☆ NCT ->
midnight into morning coffee | na jaemin x reader [ ☼ ] - 5.8k
↳ college!au ✵ synopsis: he sits next to you every lecture, with the same heart-pounding, gut-twisting soft smile as a greeting and as a goodbye. in short, you were in love with him, but what do college students know about love?
offside | lee donghyuck x reader [ ☼ ] - 16.5k
↳ and it’s associated spin off drabble: the world is ours
↳ football!au, rehabiliation!au, summer love!au ✵ synopsis: lee donghyuck was one of south korea’s brightest prospects coming into the 2018 world cup, up until a season-ending injury just days before their training camp wiped him out. you were a sports medicine and physiotherapy student excited for your summer with NCT FC, but what caught you off guard was being assigned to every step of lee donghyuck’s journey to recovery.
if my wishes came true, it would’ve been you | mark lee x reader [ ☼ | ☁ ] - 12.0k
↳ idol!verse, exes to lovers!au ; persist and resist the temptation to ask if one thing had been different, would everything be different today? (alternatively, every single time you and mark get a chance to talk about your breakup, it never goes as planned)
i do not allow reuploads, reposts, or translations of my works. i cross-post to ao3 and wattpad. i do not take requests. i write for fun and for free. feedback is of course welcome and greatly appreciated, please feel free to send me an ask, reblog, or comment!
if you're looking for a fic and can't find it, check my archive masterlist
PLEASE READ/INCLUSIVITY: unless explicitly stated otherwise in the genre tags, all of my reader-inserts use she/her pronouns, and are commonly referred to with gendered language such as girl, woman, etc. i do not make references to the reader's skin tone. i tend to avoid describing how the reader-insert takes up space (height or size) but if i do, the only members that i may explicitly depict as taller than the reader-insert are those that are 180cm or above (johnny, jaehyun, jungwoo, sungchan, jisung, and maybe sicheng if i'm feeling extra nice)
taglist | recent work | recommended work
word count 2025: 96.5k | blog word count: 1.303M
nets: blankjournal
KEY
f - fluff
a - angst
m - mature/heavy themes (i do not write smut, but not everything here will be appropriate for all ages, proceed with caution and read all warnings provided at the beginning of fics)
h - humor/crack fic
✦ - author favorite
the starlightkuniverses
➺ series of multiple fics that take place in the same universe. pick your favorite member or read them all
➺ the strawberry sunday anthology (f, m, h, ✦)
modern magical creatures au, modern fantasy au, college au ── fairy!jungwoo, vampire!kun, werewolf!jeno, dragon!jisung, werewolf!sungchan, human!renjun, basilisk!mark, dryad!jaemin, and siren!shotaro
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
➺ venue:hell (f, a, m)
band au, punk/alt au ── drummer!sungchan, frontman/lead singer!shotaro, and retired floprockstar/venue manager!kun
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
➺ the ayakashi series (f, a, m)
based off the otome game 'ayakashi romance reborn,' modern yokai au ── tengu!jeno, oni!kun, human!jaehyun, and snow spirit!doyoung
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
➺ sleepless cinderella (f, a, m)
based off wayv's dream launch plan videos and the otome game 'sleepless cinderella' ── pilot!kun, surgeon!ten, actor!sicheng, director!dejun, robotics engineer!kunhang, and f1 racer!yangyang
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
special events
➺ 2023 hallmark movie marathon (f, a)
christmas-themed, new year's-themed ── three (and a half) fics with very cheesy hallmark movie-esque premises and tropes for the holiday season, all starring kun
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
➺ 2024 hallmark movie marathon (f, h)
christmas-themed, new year's-themed ── three fics with very cheesy hallmark movie-esque premises and tropes for the holiday season, all starring jisung
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
➺ 2025 hallmark movie marathon (f)
christmas-themed, new year's-themed ── four fics with very cheesy hallmark movie-esque premises and tropes for the holiday season, all starring sungchan
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
qian kun
➺ frankenstein complex (f, m, ✦) ── 67.9k, completed
sci-fi, near-ish future, black op mission captain kun, ?????? reader, humans and aliens and robots ── in which the crew of the vision finds you as the sole survivor of a classified research facility and there's more gaps in your memory than memories themselves. on top of that, you've got this weird feeling that the captain of the crew you've found yourself with isn't exactly what he seems...
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
➺ sweet girl (f, m, ✦) ── 53.9k
from the ayakashi series, oni!kun, onmyoji!reader ── in which you have to juggle love, friends, school, and a great evil that could destroy your city
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
➺ the bite (f, a, m) ── 25.5k
single dad!kun, single mom!reader, e2l, slice(s) of life ── in which kun's son bites yours at preschool, and you want nothing to do with this 'mr. qian'
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
➺ romance is dead (f, m, h, ✦) ── 19.4k & 10.3k sequel
part of the strawberry sunday universe, vampire!kun, human!reader, "uh-oh one of us drank a love potion" but with a twist, strangers(ish) to lovers ── in which there’s a mix-up with a love potion, and you're suddenly being courted by a several-hundred-year-old vampire. it's not all sonnets and bouquets, though, as you're keenly aware that kun's love could turn to thirst. and maybe you wouldn't mind if it did
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here | sequel
➺ flopstar (f, m) ── 18.3k
part of the venue:hell universe, band au, retired floprockstar/venue manager!kun, rookie/keyboardist!reader, age gap (older kun) ── in which your band finally gets a break in the form of a recurring gig at a local underground punk venue. when you realize the manager is the former keyboardist of your favorite band from a decade ago, though, it becomes even harder to keep your cool
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
➺ sleepless cinderella (f, a) ── 11.4k
from the sleepless cinderella series, pilot!kun, journalist!reader ── in which you become your own cinderella one night, with six prince charmings to choose from
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
➺ chasing love across the receivers (f) ── 9.3k
sci-fi, near future, falling in love without seeing each other ── in which you go to your job as a space traffic controller every day looking forward to your shifts with one specific coworker who you might be falling head over heels for. and sure, you don't know quebec's real name, nor what he looks like, but you two talk for hours a day between guiding landings and take-offs, and you know him better than anyone else. you're perfectly happy, until his end of the comms falls silent one day and won't reconnect
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
➺ hopeless for the holidays (f) ── 8.7k
strangers to lovers, new year's-themed, attorney!kun, wedding planner!reader, aged up kun & reader (mid/late thirties) ── in which your friend drags you to a singles mixer being thrown by the local bar association, and you're less than thrilled. in between betting her coworker that he won't find someone to kiss by midnight and helping her avoid her ex from law school, you hardly expect to meet someone like qian kun
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
➺ much mistletoeing about nothing (a, f) ── 7.6k & 1.9k sequel
exes to lovers, christmas-themed, getting snowed in trope, cuddling to share warmth trope ── in which your first mistake was saying yes to christmas dinner with your ex. your second mistake was being late to said christmas dinner. and your third...
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here | sequel
➺ hold my red heart (f) ── 3.4k
christmas-themed, fake dating trope, f2l ── in which you need some help getting rid of a very persistent coworker, and what better way than bringing your boyfriend to the office christmas party? only problem, you don't have a boyfriend. enter kun.
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
kim doyoung
➺ snowflake (f, a, m) ── 75.3k
from the ayakashi series, snow spirit!doyoung, onmyoji!reader ── in which you experience both great love and great loss, and learn how to battle hypothermia
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
ten
➺ sleepless cinderella (f, a, m) ── 13.8k
from the sleepless cinderella series, surgeon!ten, journalist!reader ── in which you become your own cinderella one night, with six prince charmings to choose from
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
jeong jaehyun
➺ s.c.s. (f, m) ── 66.2k
from the ayakashi series, human!jaehyun, onmyoji!reader, childhood friends to lovers ── in which jaehyun's just always been a family friend, the son of your dad's friend. so why are you so nervous around him now? why are you thinking about kissing him so much? and oh yeah, what's up with all those evil wraiths?
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
➺ valentine boy (f) ── 5.0k
rich kid!au, childhood friends to lovers ── in which you’re reunited with your childhood friend and refuse to let him go this time
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
dong sicheng
➺ sleepless cinderella (f) ── 13.5k
from the sleepless cinderella series, actor!sicheng, journalist!reader, fake dating, e2l ── in which you become your own cinderella one night, with six prince charmings to choose from
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
kim jungwoo
➺ finders keepers (f, a, m) ── 37.8k
sci-fi, alien!jungwoo, human!reader, soulmate au but make it aliens ── in which you've never been good at keeping your nose out of trouble, and a spaceship crashing a few meters away from you is right up your alley. the alien inside claiming that you're his soulmate might finally put you out of your depth, though
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read part one | two
➺ strawberry sunday (f, ✦) ── 28.4k
part of the strawberry sunday universe, fairy!jungwoo, human!reader, f2l, one (1) tease and one (1) idiot to lovers, slow burn ── in which you, all your friends, and your stupid massive crush on jungwoo go stay in one beach house together for spring break. you're determined to make it out with your secret in tact. but... has jungwoo always looked at you like that? touched you this much? like that? he can't be... flirting with you?
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
➺ second first kiss (f) ── 2.0k
new year's-themed, model!jungwoo, childhood f2l, drabble, gn!reader ── in which you spend every new year's with your best friend jungwoo. except the past couple years he's missed the target on his friendly new year's peck on the cheek, and you can't get him out of your head now
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
➺ love crossing (f) ── 4.1k
strangers to lovers, meet-cute(?) ── in which jungwoo accidentally runs you over biking home from work, breaking your work laptop and spraining your wrist. in order to make it up to you, he helps you out with some errands. and when he finds out that your date that night cancelled on you, he helps you out then too
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
mark lee
➺ baby fangs (f) ── 26.7k
part of the strawberry sunday universe, basilisk!mark, sphinx!reader, strangers to lovers, age gap (older reader) ── in which a desperate mark knocks on your door one night when he gets locked out of his friends' apartment, and you get way more than you bargained for in return. you hardly expect that the cute infatuation he displays for you immediately would be anything more; nor that you'd ever find yourself falling for the basilisk and his baby fangs too
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
➺ invested (a, f) ── 23.1k
ft. donghyuck, love triangle, matching tattoo soulmate au ── in which you're convinced that you don't have a tattoo, and that you're in love with lee donghyuck
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
xiao dejun
➺ sleepless cinderella (f) ── 14.4k
from the sleepless cinderella series, director!dejun, journalist!reader, childhood friends to lovers ── in which you become your own cinderella one night, with six prince charmings to choose from
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
wong kunhang
➺ savior (f, h, ✦) ── 24.3k
royal au, prince!kunhang, princess!reader, "you saved me, so now i'm your problem" ── in which you really should've read up on the customs of your neighboring kingdom before visiting
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
➺ sleepless cinderella (f) ── 11.1k
from the sleepless cinderella series, robotics engineer!kunhang, journalist!reader, e2l ── in which you become your own cinderella one night, with six prince charmings to choose from
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
huang renjun
➺ dr_magic2303 (f, h, m) ── 18.3k
part of the strawberry sunday universe, human!renjun, siren!reader, academic rivals to lovers ── in which a mysterious user by the pseudonym of dr_magic2303 starts popping up on your university’s online forums. you’re determined to get to the bottom of their identity, so you decide to enlist the help of your academic rival for the past four years, huang renjun
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
lee jeno
➺ featherbrain (f, m) ── 48.3k
from the ayakashi series, tengu!jeno, onmyoji!reader ── in which you can't believe you've fallen for this stupid, stupid tengu
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
➺ tongue-tied (f) ── 17.4k
strangers to lovers, model!jeno, journalist!reader, reworked version of old sleepless cinderella route ── in which you find yourself getting sucked deeper and deeper into an article in order to ignore the scarily personal part that won't seem to leave you alone
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
➺ pupsick (f, m) ── 11.8k & 8.8k sequel
part of the strawberry sunday universe, werewolf!jeno, human!reader, f2l, bakery au ── in which jeno's sick and insists that you're the only one that can take care of him. but according to your only other werewolf friend, you're also what's making him sick
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here | sequel
lee donghyuck
➺ invested (f, a) ── 23.1k
ft. mark, love triangle, matching tattoo soulmate au ── in which you're convinced that you don't have a tattoo, and that you're in love with lee donghyuck
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
na jaemin
➺ the golden fruit duology (f) ── 32.0k
nades au, hades!jaemin, human!reader, persephone allegory ── in which you think you're trading away a third of your life for your dream job but get much, much more
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
➺ savvy (f, h) ── 12.2k
part of the strawberry sunday universe, dryad!jaemin, human!reader, summer camp counselors au, strangers to lovers ── in which you and jaemin end up as co-lead counselors at camp pineleaf this summer, and it's hard to deny that you two seem to just click. he thinks it's your great chemistry, but you know better. and by the time you realize what's happening, it's too late to try to keep him at arm's length
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
liu yangyang
➺ speedometer (f, ✦) ── 14.1k
street racer!yangyang, college au ── in which you meet someone who sends your heart racing
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
➺ sleepless cinderella (f, a) ── 12.9k
from the sleepless cinderella series, f1 racer!yangyang, journalist!reader ── in which you become your own cinderella one night, with six prince charmings to choose from
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
osaki shotaro
➺ saltwater, black cherry (f) ── 15.7k
part of the strawberry sunday universe, siren!shotaro, human!reader, strangers to lovers ── in which you're saved from a near-drowning by friendly siren shotaro, who also happens to be the cute bobarista that had caught your eye at the boba tea place near campus. everything seems to be falling into place in the bubbly beginnings of your new relationship, but you just can't shake the image of the sea monster that you swore you saw that day in the murky ocean depths
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
➺ sugarcoated brain (f, a) ── 13.7k
part of the venue:hell universe, band au, punk band frontman!shotaro, venue manager!reader ── in which you're assigned to take care of the band who will be filling the weekly performance slot at your workplace. you're warned their scatterbrained frontman can be a handful thanks to his tendency to misplace everything he owns. what nobody could have prepared you for is his inexplicable one-track mind when it comes to you
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
➺ flight risk (a, f, m) ── 10.4k
exes to lovers ── in which everything’s always been easy with shotaro—your friendship, your first kiss, and even your breakup. now, seven months after he left to chase a big career opportunity abroad, he’s back for his little sister’s birthday, and you’re invited to the party
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
jung sungchan
➺ buzzer beater series (f, m, ✦) ── 75.1k, completed
college au (and after), hockey captain!sungchan, chronically ill!reader (migraines) ── in which you swear you’re only going to the joint halloween party being hosted by the hockey team and nu chi tau for a few minutes just to say hi to sungchan, but as can be expected with your life, something goes horribly, horribly wrong
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
➺ the soulmate factory (f, a, ✦) ── 28.9k
science fantasy au, soulmate au (red string), star crossed lovers, mystery ── in which you work at the soulmate factory, pressing all the buttons when you’re supposed to, changing strangers’ fates. until one day a red string appears on your finger, and you know something has gone horribly wrong. employees of the soulmate factory are explicitly barred from participating in the program. on top of hiding it from your coworkers and bosses, you also have to investigate how this even happened and undo it, before you lose your job and before you meet your soulmate
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
➺ soulbound (f, a) ── 23.6k
two bodies one soul au, acquaintances of extreme inconvenience, e2l ── in which you and sungchan share one soul between you, a fact that has been the literal bane of your existence since your birth. while the two of you personally get along like oil and water, physical distance would kill your soul and both of you with it. when you land a lucrative new job in a different city, you never expect sungchan to actually agree to uproot his entire life for your dreams
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
➺ changer (f, a) ── 22.3k & 25.5k sequel
part of the strawberry sunday universe, werewolf!sungchan, human!reader, slowish burn, blind date ── in which you and sungchan are set up on a blind date, and it goes terribly. but a chance second meeting could reignite the spark of... friendship? well shit.
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here | sequel
➺ that hot (f) ── 17.2k
meet-ugly, strangers to lovers, forced proximity (long car trip, vacation, etc.) ── in which you first get introduced to sungchan at a friend's party, but you just don't trust guys who are that hot. scene cut, and he's driving you to a cabin in the mountains that your entire friend group will be staying at for two whole weeks. then you miss your exit. then his car gets a flat tire.
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
➺ filler episodes (f) ── 16.6k & 9.5k sequel
part of the venue:hell universe, band au, drummer!sungchan, normie!reader, badboy x good girl but make it loserboy x girlfail ── in which your whole life has felt like filler episodes, and you're tired of living like that. enter jung sungchan, part-time bookstore worker, part-time tea shop employee, and part-time drummer for a local underground punk band. he's everything you're not, and as soon as he's wedged himself into your life, you find that you don't want him to go
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here | sequel
➺ [NEW] the holdovers (f, a) ── 12.0k
christmas/new year's-themed, boarding school au, gym teacher!sungchan & history teacher!reader ── in which you and sungchan are tasked with watching over the three students at moorehead prep who aren’t going home for the month-long winter break. while the two of you work together to try to make the best of it for the kids, you can’t help but get even closer than expected
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
➺ weddings & funerals (a, f) ── 9.9k
exes to lovers, second chance romance ── in which you and sungchan keep ending up as each other's plus-ones to weddings and funerals, despite the fact that you broke up months ago
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
➺ [NEW] where we left off (f) ── 4.1k
new year's-themed, long-lost childhood friends to lovers, groomsman!sungchan & bridesmaid!reader ── in which you agree to fill in last-minute as a bridesmaid at your coworker’s new year’s eve wedding, not expecting to be reunited with your childhood friend (and very first boyfriend) jung sungchan
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
➺ [NEW] 24 to 25 (f) ── 2.8k
christmas-themed, hospital au, doctors!sungchan & reader, coworkers/friends to lovers ── in which you and sungchan decide to spend christmas eve together due to your unfortunate schedules at the hospital that day. sometime between watching movies at his place and him being called into the ER, he admits something that maybe you should’ve seen the whole time
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
➺ tourist trapped (f) ── 2.4k
enemies to lovers (or are they...) ── in which your day out at the fair with your friends somehow ends up with you stuck at the top of the ferris wheel with the one person you'd been avoiding, sungchan. but you're not avoiding him for the reason that all your friends think you are...
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
➺ [NEW] (s)mittens (f) ── 1.9k
winter-themed, neighbors au ── in which you just moved to town and experience your first snow, and sungchan helps you check off everything you’ve wanted to do
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
park jisung
➺ pur autre vie (a, f, m) ── 26.1k & 17.5k sequel
paranormal/supernatural au, ghost!jisung ── in which you inherit your stepdad's house under the condition that you can live there for as long as you take care of your mother. at first, you think her belief that the house is haunted is just her declining mind playing tricks on her. but the longer you're there, the more you start to think something isn't right...
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here | sequel
➺ the dragon's happily ever after (f, h) ── 17.4k
part of the strawberry sunday universe, dragon!jisung, human!reader, f2l, secret relationship/fake not dating trope ── in which you and jisung sort of forgot to tell your nosy friends that you're dating, but realize it's the perfect opportunity to give them a little taste of their own medicine. they're trying to set you two up, while you're trying to see how long it takes them to notice that you're already dating. cue the shenanigans
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
➺ out of left field (f) ── 16.3k
christmas/new year's-themed, college au, brother's best friend trope, baseball player!jisung, rich kid!reader, slowish burn ── in which a missed connection in the library during finals week turns into two weeks at your family's winter home with your brother's cute friend on the baseball team. as long as you and your brother don't kill each other before you even get there, this could be the best christmas ever
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
➺ mistletoe while you work (f, h) ── 6.9k
christmas-themed, established relationship, secret relationship, meddling coworkers & equally unhinged reader & jisung ── in which you and jisung truly had only meant to keep your relationship private from your colleagues until jisung's new employee evaluation. then two of your coworkers tried to convince you to sleep with jisung for his own good, and who were you to pass up the perfect opportunity for some workplace hijinks?
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
➺ want from me (f) ── 1.7k
christmas-themed, sleeping with a stranger at the office holiday party and oops! they're your new coworker trope ── in which you did not plan for the handsome stranger that you took home from the office holiday party to end up also being the new transfer to your team. you also did not plan for a repeat of that night. but you had also never planned for park jisung
* :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here
synopsis keonho has been your nemesis since freshman year, when he first moved to your school. in the years of intense competition for first place on exams, you haven't even realized that what you thought was only a mean-spirited rivalry could actually be so much more.
tags keonho x reader ⋆ rivals to lovers ⋆ fluff ⋆ long fic !
warnings swearing, unhealthy study habits, reader is very in-denial, slow-burn
wc 10.6k ! teaser(126)
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ONE OF THE FIRST THINGS they teach you in high school science is to never mix volatile substances, especially incompatible ones, with each other. They're simply too unpredictable. Too unsafe. There is no telling what will happen if you do.
It was freshman year when you first met Ahn Keonho. When, in your second period Biology class, you all saw him as the new kid–an unrecognizable face. None of you knew him, or anything about him, except for the fact that he was handsome. Very, very handsome.
But you weren't about to get distracted by some newbie from your schoolwork. A new year and new classes were enough motivation to do well in school.
This new kid, Keonho, seemed like the complete opposite.
He gave off fratboy energy, the type that didn't care about grades or classes or anything school related. You could tell from the way he wore his tie, slightly loosened at the neck. From the way his eyes seemed to glaze over the first day of school lectures from each teacher. From the way he was already befriending popular guys in your grade who were the exact same way.
Following this thought process, you thought it best not to pay attention to Keonho. A crush, no matter how small or harmless it was, was basically signing yourself up to be distracted from studies–the complete opposite of the goal you had made for yourself.
s, smut | f, fluff | a, angst | suggestive is noted
my laptop is fried from all the tabs lol, but these are my fav psh fics, or at least the ones i have liked/remember ! its LONG lol
> word count lowers as you go down the list! (not in order)
grocery store receipts [ hot neighbor!sunghoon x fem!reader ] s,f,a
to the boy: who took me to prom [ best friend's brother!sunghoon x fem!reader ] s,f,a
harvest of purity [ innocent!sunghoon, strangers to lovers ] s,f,a
stupid in love [ bestfriend!sunghoon, summer au ] s,f,a
we'll always have this summer [ summer au, strangers to lovers, city girl x country boy au ] s,f,a
gods & monsters [ step-brother sunghoon x fem!reader x stepbrother!heeseung ] s,f,a
park sunghoon: the boy next door trope [ shy figure skater!sunghoon x popular extrovert!reader ] s,f,a
king of tears [ chaebol husband!sunghoon, second chance romance au ] s,f,a
crossroads romance [ ex!sunghoon, suprise return au ] s,a
unlucky girl syndrome / part two [ grumpy x sunshine au, love triangle au ft. jake ]
sex for dummies! [ academic rivals au, university au ] s,f,a
tangled desires [ enemies to lovers, rich kids au ] s,a
the dollmaker [ husband & dollmaker!sunghoon, gothic/supernatural elements au ] s,f,a
love next door [ childhood bsf!sunghoon x fem!reader ] s,a
teacher's pet [ professor!sunghoon x fem!reader ] s,f,a
you're such a brat [ arrogant!sunghoon x bratty!reader, enemies to lovers ] s
cherry pits [ dad!sunghoon x fem!reader, dilf au, neighbors au ] s,f
three weeks & three days [ best friend's ex!sunghoon, halloween au ] s,f,a
lucifer [ fallen angel!sunghoon x virgin angel fem!reader ] s
first date etiquette [ neighbor au, first date au ] s
dior girl [ designer!sunghoon x fem!reader, dark!sunghoon ] s
night-shift / day shift (pt.2) [ boss & camboy!sunghoon ] s
give up heaven [ ex-bestfriend & hockey player!sunghoon, friends to lovers ] suggestive,a
get you better [ boyfriend's best friend!sunghoon, cheating au ] s
urs [ situationship!sunghoon x fem!reader ] s,f
say my name [ neighbor!sunghoon, enemies to lovers ] s
star-crossed / part two [ prince!sunghoon x servant fem!reader, greek mythology ] s,f
cherry [ outcast!sunghoon x class president fem!reader, enemies to lovers, 90's au ] f
bittersweet teeth [ brother's best friend!sunghoon x fem!reader ] s
past wounds, present hearts [ ex bully!sunghoon x fem!reader ] s,f,a
heavenly [ playboy & ex bf!sunghoon x fem!reader, fake dating au ] f,a
forbidden attraction [ wizard!sunghoon x witch!reader, hogwarts au ] s
→ pairing: downbad!sunghoon x fem!reader // ִromcom· friends to lovers · slow burn · smut ࣪· crack → synopsis: sunghoon was always the kind of guy who fell too hard, too fast, the type who thought a shared playlist meant commitment and that liking the same sandwich was fate. spoiler: it never worked out. well, that’s until you showed up. he didn’t mean to fall for you. you were just his friend. the funny, smart, annoyingly pretty friend. it wasn’t supposed to turn into heart flutters and late-night guitar practice. but somewhere between friendly teasing, shared drinks, and the world’s longest friendzone, sunghoon realized he might actually be in love. oops!
→ word count: 28k // warnings: mdni!! contains explicit content, praising kink, oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex, slight overstimulation, switch dynamics, dirty talk / explicit language, face riding
sunghoon was always that type of hopeless romantic guy. not in a write a poem under the rain kind of way, but he used to believe in signs: like if a girl knew all the words to a blink-182 song, she was definitely his soulmate. one time in college, he thought a cashier was in love with him because she gave him an extra ketchup packet. another time, he made a mixtape for a girl he barely knew just because she said she liked the strokes. he even labeled it “volume 1,” fully expecting a relationship to follow. it didn’t.
he was that guy who said “i miss you” before it made sense and thought hand-holding in public was sacred. the guy who overanalyzed text punctuation. the guy who once bought matching mugs after a fourth date because she laughed at his seinfeld reference. spoiler alert: she ghosted him the next day, and he kept the mugs anyway. because love, right? yeah, that’s it. that was sunghoon.
well, until he met you.
but, before he met you, sunghoon was stuck in that loop of almosts and maybes and "it’s not you, it’s me" texts sent at 2 a.m. he had a tendency to turn background characters into main characters in his head. if someone asked for directions on the subway, he’d spend the next hour wondering if he should’ve asked for her number. maybe she liked coffee shops. maybe they could’ve gone to the one on 8th street. maybe they would’ve fallen in love over cappuccinos and sarcasm. maybe he ruined it.
he was, in short, delusional in the most innocent way. and weirdly proud of it, like it was his thing. like being a hopeless romantic was just part of the package, along with his obsession with vintage sneakers, his habit of alphabetizing his dvds, pokémon go and his belief that fate always showed up fashionably late.
he had no idea that the reason would be you.
sunghoon and jay had been living together for a little over a year now. the apartment wasn’t big, and it definitely wasn’t quiet (mostly because it sat right above a bar that played the same six songs on loop every night) but it had decent water pressure, a couch that technically belonged to jungwon, and a fridge that made an odd noise every time someone closed the bathroom door. but they made it work. jay was the cleaner one, sunghoon was the one who always left his hoodie on the kitchen chair, and somehow they found a balance.
they didn’t talk about feelings much, not directly. but every now and then, usually when one of them was eating something straight from the bag or halfway through a bad tv rerun, the topic would come up. on this particular night, sunghoon was lying on the couch with his legs stretched out and one hand buried in an open bag of cereal. he hadn’t even bothered with milk. the tv was on, volume too low to follow, but he wasn’t really paying attention anyway.
“i think i’m gonna die alone,” he said, like he was talking about the weather.
jay, sitting on the floor next to the coffee table with his laptop open, didn’t look up. “what happened now?”
“nothing happened. that’s the problem. i haven’t been on a date in, like, four months. maybe five.”
jay looked at him, unimpressed. “you say that like it’s a medical emergency.”
“it kind of is,” sunghoon said, sitting up just enough to gesture with the cereal bag.
jay snorted. “what happened to that girl from the climbing gym? the one who asked for your number after you slipped off the wall?”
sunghoon stared at the ceiling. “we went out once. she spent the entire time telling me about her ex who lives in canada and how he doesn’t believe in monogamy but they’re spiritually married anyway.”
jay blinked. “okay. next. what about the girl from the bookstore?” jay added, trying again.
“oh, right,” sunghoon said, already regretting the memory. “we had a good first date. coffee, conversation, the whole thing. second date, she brought her roommate. didn’t warn me or anything.”
“why?”
“she said she wanted a second opinion on me.”
jay closed his laptop. “man.”
“i know.” there was a short pause. sunghoon leaned his head back against the couch and let out a slow breath through his nose. he wasn’t trying to be dramatic, he was just tired of the effort it took to get halfway close to something that never turned out to be anything at all. “maybe i peaked romantically at seventeen,” he muttered.
“no one peaks at seventeen,” jay said.
“you did.”
“that’s different,” jay shrugged. “i’m hot.”
jay had been in a relationship for years, since he was 17. like proper long-term, holiday-travel-planning, toothbrush-in-the-bathroom relationship. it was steady, and sunghoon respected that, even if sometimes it made his own track record feel like a string of blurry first dates and weird storytimes.
sunghoon shifted on the couch, grabbing another handful of cereal from the open bag on his lap. “you know what’s sad? the only consistent interaction i’ve had with a woman lately is with some random pokémon go user who keeps stealing the gym at the end of our street.”
jay glanced over, already amused. “what?”
“i’ve been holding it down for team valor since, like, last year. and every night—every single night—this person comes and knocks me out. same user. snoopygirl_98. blue team, obviously. i think she hates me.”
jay raised an eyebrow. “maybe she’s flirting.”
“by humiliating me in front of a 7-eleven?”
“some people flirt differently.”
sunghoon let out a tired sigh, leaning back against the couch. “i just want to feel something again.”
jay reached for the remote. “you wanna go downstairs later? to the bar? maybe someone down there has a thing for emotionally exhausted guys.”
“you think it’s my moment?”
“statistically, you’re due.”
sunghoon didn’t answer right away. he didn’t believe in statistics, he believed in luck. and that night, for the first time in a while, he was about to have some. because you were downstairs.
sunghoon went to the bar with jay mostly out of stubbornness. he said he didn’t feel like going, said it was a weeknight, said the chances of anything interesting happening were basically zero, but still changed out of his old hoodie and put on one that didn’t smell like takeout. the bar was familiar, and warm in the way places start to feel when you’ve been going for long enough that the guy behind the counter knows your usual.
they found jake by the pool table, already halfway through his drink. he turned before they even said anything and grinned like he’d been expecting them. sunghoon gave jay a look and followed them toward one of the tables near the back, where a few other familiar faces from college were already sitting, people they didn’t see that often anymore but still shared enough history with to make small talk easy.
and that’s when he saw you.
you were sitting to the left of jake, stirring your drink with a straw and laughing at something someone had just said. it wasn’t loud or dramatic or exaggerated, but it caught his attention anyway. there was something about how comfortable you looked at the table, how you weren’t trying too hard to be part of the conversation and still somehow felt like the center of it.
he stopped walking for half a second before jay gave him a light push on the shoulder to keep moving. jake started introducing people in his usual scattered way, pointing quickly and not really giving anyone time to react. “this is y/n—she’s a friend from my econ class back in the day—and this is sunghoon, he used to live with me first year. you two haven’t met, right?”
sunghoon nodded once and said a quick “hey,” followed by a smile that he hoped looked normal. you replied with a polite “hey” back, and that was it. a few seconds, not much, but enough for him to realize he was already too aware of how close you were sitting to jake, how often you looked at him when you laughed, how your hand moved when you adjusted your glass.
he sat across the table next to jay, didn’t say much for a while. mostly listened, nodded, laughed when it made sense. but every few minutes his eyes would flick back to you, casually, like he wasn’t really paying attention, even though he absolutely was. there was something about you that made him feel quieter than usual. not nervous, but just unsure of what to do with himself.
about fifteen minutes later, heeseung showed up. he walked in already smiling, already halfway into the group and he greeted you with a hug (longer than a casual one) and slid into the seat next to you without asking. you two started talking right away, and it didn’t look like small talk. sunghoon watched for a few seconds longer than he meant to, then looked away and focused on his drink. he didn’t know your story, maybe you and heeseung were just close, maybe it was something else. he wasn’t going to ask, of course. but he was already wondering if he’d missed his window.
the next few days after that night were... something else. jay didn’t let it go. at least twice a day, he’d throw a casual question over from the other room or while making coffee, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “so, you liked her, didn’t you?”
and sunghoon would roll his eyes and try to sound way too cool for someone who’d clearly been thinking about you more than he wanted to admit. “what, no. she seemed nice. and i mean, she’s cute. i have eyes, i am aware.”
but jay wasn’t buying it. he pushed harder, always the annoying friend who actually cares. “okay, but did you ask jake for her number yet?” sunghoon tried to laugh it off, but the answer was always no.
“i didn’t. she’s way too pretty for me to just go asking like it’s no big deal. and besides, from what i saw, she’s definitely not single. heeseung was all over her, talking like they had some history or something.”
sunghoon tried to convince jay (and himself) that he wasn’t jealous, just realistic. he reminded himself he wasn’t some guy who just jumped into things blindly, especially not when the other guy was heeseung, who’d been friends with them both for years. so instead of asking for her number, he did what he does best: replayed the whole night in his head. every laugh you gave, every way you leaned in when heeseung was talking, the little things he couldn’t quite figure out.
he thought about how quiet he’d been, how stupid he probably looked trying to play it cool when all he wanted was to ask you questions about everything. but most of all, he wondered if there’d ever be a moment where he could just be the guy sitting next to you, not some awkward stranger watching from across the table.
sunghoon was in one of those moods where it felt like nothing ever went his way. you know, the kind of streak where every little thing seemed to slip through his fingers. dates that fizzled out before they even got started, conversations that ended awkwardly, moments that should’ve felt right but somehow didn’t. by the time he met you, he was almost done with all the usual nonsense. he wasn’t expecting fireworks or some perfect romcom scene. he was just trying not to mess things up this time. so when you showed up, he kept his guard up, quiet, careful not to get too invested too fast. he told himself he was being smart, protecting himself from another round of whatever it was that had been happening before.
so on the next week, sunghoon found himself at jake’s place again for another gathering, the kind that felt like a regular thing now even though he was still figuring out what he actually wanted from all this. when he walked in, the first thing that caught his eye was you, sitting in the corner with a group of friends. he tried to act casual as he made his way over, but inside, every step felt like a careful calculation.
his mind raced through possible ways to start the conversation without sounding awkward or, worse, desperate. “don’t mess this up,” he told himself quietly, repeating it like a mantra as he got closer. when he finally reached you, he caught a glimpse of your t-shirt, a band he knew well, mcfly. it was kind of a guilty pleasure for him. back in high school, he’d picked up their songs mostly because a lot of girls liked them, and it had been his secret move to catch their attention. but somewhere along the way, he realized he actually liked the music, even if he’d never admit it out loud. it was one of those small things, but for sunghoon, it was like a secret handshake, a sign that maybe you two weren’t completely from different planets.
he cleared his throat and said, “hey, nice shirt. didn’t expect to see someone else wearing mcfly around here.”
you glanced up, a bit surprised, then smiled. “yeah, i guess it’s not super common these days.”
sunghoon nodded, trying to sound casual but feeling a bit weird admitting it. “i mean, i used to listen to them all the time back in high school. don’t tell anyone, but tom’s songwriting always stuck with me.”
you raised your eyebrows, clearly surprised. “wait, really? you actually like mcfly?”
he laughed quietly, running a hand through his hair. “yeah, i picked up their songs ‘cause a lot of girls were into them, but then i kind of got hooked. it’s like... guilty pleasure, but also genuine.”
you smirked, “guilty pleasure is the best kind, honestly.”
sunghoon felt a little relieved she wasn’t making fun of him. “exactly.”
you both laughed softly, and for a moment, sunghoon forgot to overthink everything. it was just two people, talking about a band, and somehow that felt a lot easier than he expected. sunghoon found himself just wanting to listen to you talk. the way you casually shared stories about concerts and favorite songs felt different from the usual small talk he was used to. it wasn’t like he was trying to impress you or be someone he wasn’t, it was just two people connecting over something simple.
he tried to keep the conversation going, so he asked, “so, do you come to these hangouts often, or is this just a one-time thing?”
you smiled again, “pretty often. it’s nice to see familiar faces and meet new ones.”
sunghoon nodded, feeling a warmth in his chest that wasn’t just from the beer he’d had earlier. inside, he was thinking, yeah, it’s nice to meet you too. but he kept that to himself. for now, he was happy just being there, talking, and maybe, just maybe, hoping there would be more moments like this.
the conversation flowed better than he expected. you talked about concerts you’d been to, favorite songs, weird stories about how you got into the band. sunghoon was surprised at how easy it was to laugh and just be yourself around you. but then, as the night went on, he realized the familiar sinking feeling, the one that hit every time before: the friendzone. you were funny, smart, and clearly someone he wanted to be more than friends with, but the way you joked and leaned into the group, it was clear you saw him like the guy who always had a good playlist, not the one who was secretly hoping for more.
and after that night, things started to slip into something that sunghoon didn’t quite expect. you two began to follow each other on social media. just the usual likes and comments that somehow made his day a little better whenever his phone buzzed. at first, he told himself it was just casual. friends catching up, sharing bits of their lives.
but slowly, he realized it wasn’t so casual anymore. he found himself scrolling through your photos longer than he meant to, replaying your messages in his head, wondering what your smile looked like when you weren’t looking. jay noticed too, because sunghoon was not subtle about it at all. every few days, he’d throw the question at sunghoon like it was some kind of game. “so, are you into her?”
and every time, sunghoon would laugh it off. “nah, man, just friends. nothing like that.”
but inside, he was tangled up in a mess of what ifs and maybe-nots. he told himself he was fine just being friends, that getting too close wasn’t worth the risk. he was tired of things going sideways, of hoping for something that never quite stuck. but the more he tried to convince himself, the harder it became to ignore the way his chest tightened when you popped up on his screen or the way his mind wandered to what it’d be like if things actually went right.
he wasn’t ready to say it out loud, not yet. but the truth was, he was falling, probably faster than he wanted to admit. and every time jay asked, he’d just smile and shake his head, pretending he didn’t feel a thing. pretending was easier, at least for now.
it was a saturday afternoon, and sunghoon had been outside for a solid twenty minutes trying (once again) to reclaim the gym down the street. it had become a bit of an obsession at that point. snoopygirl_98 had taken it over again, and this time, she’d stacked it with an annoyingly strong blissey that just wouldn’t budge. he was pacing in front of the bakery on the corner, furiously tapping his screen, muttering under his breath like it was personal. because, honestly, it kinda was. whoever snoopygirl_98 was, she had been tormenting his team valor pride for weeks, and he was convinced she was doing it on purpose now.
right as he was about to give up and switch to a different gym, a notification popped up on his screen, not from the game, but a message. from you.
[y/n:] hey hoon!! are you busy?
his thumb hovered over the screen for a second, stomach doing that little flip it always did when your name showed up. he stared at it, then at the game, then back at the message. screw the gym.
[sunghoon:] Not really, what’s up?
the reply came fast, like you’d already had it typed and ready to send.
[y/n:] i’m at the mart near your place and i got way too many bags… like an embarrassing amount… and i couldn’t think of anyone else to ask. would you be a hero and help me carry these to my building? 🥺
sunghoon blinked at the screen. and then again. and then stood there, in the middle of the sidewalk, processing what just happened. you couldn’t think of anyone else to ask. now, logically, he knew that meant nothing. you were friends, this was a friend thing. helping someone carry groceries was classic friend behavior. textbook friendzone. but still, his chest did a weird fluttery thing, and he could already hear jay’s voice in his head saying something smug like, “not into her, huh?”
he texted back:
[sunghoon:] On my way! Don’t move. Be there in five
he slipped his phone into his jacket pocket and took off in the direction of the store, telling himself it wasn’t a big deal. it’s just a nice thing to do. good karma. neighbors helping neighbors, nothing more. but deep down, as he walked a little too fast and adjusted his hair in the reflection of a parked car, sunghoon knew exactly what he was doing. and he knew exactly why he was doing it.
because, yeah, maybe he was in the friendzone. but he was in the friendzone with you. and that still felt a lot better than being anywhere else.
when he got to the store, there you were, standing on the curb with three overstuffed tote bags and two plastic ones hanging from your wrists, trying to balance them without toppling over. you looked up, caught sight of him, and smiled like it was the most natural thing in the world to call sunghoon out of the blue and make him carry your groceries like some kind of personal delivery boy. and the worst part is that he didn’t even mind.
“you weren’t kidding,” he said, eyeing the bags as he took most of them from you without hesitation.
“i was being modest,” you replied, a little out of breath. “there were two more bags but the guy at the checkout told me to stop.”
“glad someone had the courage to say it,” he joked, and you nudged him with your elbow as the two of you started walking.
at first, it was all easy conversation, nothing new there. you talked about how the store rearranged the snack aisle again, how you couldn’t find your favorite granola, and how the cashier gave you a coupon for cat food even though you didn’t have a cat. he listened, laughed in all the right places, and added his own running commentary. it was the kind of rhythm you two had settled into without ever really trying.
but somewhere between the store and your apartment building, as he adjusted the bags in his arms and looked at you rambling about frozen waffles, something quietly clicked in his chest. he didn’t know when it had started, maybe back at the bar, maybe during some other moment he didn’t register properly, but it was there now, and it was loud.
he liked you.
like, actually liked you. not the fake-crush-you-get-on-a-friend thing. not the maybe i’m just lonely thing. a real, actual crush that made his hands sweat and his thoughts spiral and his pulse skip a little every time you looked at him too long. and he had been telling himself it wasn’t that, because it was easier and because it was safer. but yeah, it was that.
you held the door to your building open with your hip and motioned for him to follow you. “don’t judge the mess,” you said casually.
sunghoon didn’t say anything, just smiled, still mildly stunned by the realization swirling in his head. when you opened the door to your apartment and he stepped inside, it was like stepping into a personality, your personality. there were string lights that didn’t match but somehow made sense together. mugs with little quotes on them. a record player in the corner next to a stack of vinyls that included both taylor swift and metallica. polaroids on the fridge. a half-finished puzzle on the coffee table. a plant that was definitely dying but still hanging in there. it was so you, in every way.
and sunghoon stood there holding your bags, pretending he wasn’t staring.
“you can drop them by the kitchen,” you said, already pulling off your coat and tossing it on the couch.
he did, and then paused, glancing around again. “your place is…” he trailed off, not sure how to say weirdly perfect without sounding creepy.
you looked over your shoulder. “chaotic?”
“adorable,” he said, before he could stop himself.
you raised an eyebrow, amused. “really?”
“uh. i mean, yeah. in a—like—it’s very you.”
he wanted to slap himself. but you just smiled again and started unpacking your bags like it wasn’t a big deal.
and over the next few weeks, things kind of continued. sunghoon found himself falling into this strange rhythm with you. not in a we’re clearly falling for each other kind of way, but in a i’m clearly in love and you keep sending me memes at 2am like that means nothing kind of way. and he didn’t even know how it happened. it was like one minute he was helping you carry groceries and the next he was learning your coffee order, your go-to karaoke song, and the name of the stuffed penguin you’d had since you were six. so the friendzone? yeah, it was thriving. stable. deeply rooted in reality.
“she called me dude today,” sunghoon said one night, flopping onto the couch with a dramatic sigh.
jay didn’t look up from his phone. “right. and?”
“no, but, like. she said it in the friendly way. like a bro way. like a ‘dude, you have to see this video of a cat falling off a table’ kind of way.”
jay glanced over. “so… you’re mad she’s comfortable with you?” sunghoon tossed a pillow at him but couldn’t deny the accuracy.
he was at that stage where he’d memorized your laugh patterns, saved photos from your story by accident, and started recognizing songs from your spotify playlists. he’d accidentally started saying some of your catchphrases. he was, in short, doomed.
you, meanwhile, were obliviously warm and kind and effortlessly funny, the kind of funny that didn’t try too hard, which made it worse. you’d text him stuff like “is this a normal dinner?” with a photo of cereal and pickles, and sunghoon would still stare at his phone for ten minutes smiling like a loser. he hated it. no, he loved it. no, actually, he hated that he loved it.
once, you called him at midnight just to ask if frogs had teeth (they do, sort of), and he answered like that was a perfectly normal thing for a person to do. it was around then that jay gave up even pretending to be surprised.
“just tell her you like her,” he said, halfway through a bowl of cereal.
sunghoon groaned. “i’d rather eat glass.”
“then stop looking at your phone like it’s a shrine.”
“i’m not.”
“you’re literally on her instagram zooming in on her bookshelf.”
“she has good taste in books, jay.”
“sure. tell the bookshelf how you feel.”
sunghoon ignored him, of course. he was committed to the bit now. committed to being your very helpful, very available, very emotionally tortured friend. it was pathetic, but it was also the best he’d felt in months.
jungwon’s birthday was on a saturday, and somehow the group decided that the best way to celebrate turning twenty-something was to put on rented shoes and throw heavy balls down a lane under disco lights. sunghoon hadn’t been to a bowling alley in years, but he wasn’t about to admit that. especially not when you showed up in jeans, a ponytail, and a hyper-specific competitiveness in your eyes that made him slightly nervous.
“you any good?” you asked, grabbing a bowling ball way too confidently.
sunghoon shrugged like it was nothing. “decent.”
“hm. cocky.”
“you scared?”
you raised an eyebrow. “you wish.”
and that was it: challenge accepted. sunghoon spent the next hour entirely too focused on beating you, despite the fact that it was literally jungwon’s birthday and he had no reason to be acting like it was the bowling olympics. but there was something about the way you teased him every time he got a spare, or the smug way you celebrated your strikes like you’d just ended world hunger, that gave him this ridiculous flutter in his chest he didn’t know what to do with.
you stuck your tongue out at him after your third strike in a row. “might wanna switch to the kiddie lane.”
“i’m just letting you win,” he said, deadpan.
“oh? how generous.”
he rolled his eyes, grinning despite himself. he hated how easy it was to like you. he hated how every little joke made him want to high-five his past self for deciding to help carry your groceries that one time. he also hated how that warm, stupid feeling in his chest immediately froze when he saw heeseung walk in.
you spotted heeseung almost instantly and lit up in that way people only do when they see someone they’re extremely fond of. you waved, borderline giddy, and rushed over to hug him like you hadn’t seen him in years, even though sunghoon was pretty sure you’d just posted a story with him the weekend before.
sunghoon watched from the far side of the seating area, trying to act normal. casual. unbothered. he adjusted his grip on his bowling ball even though he wasn’t playing that round and stared at the score screen like it had personally offended him. right. heeseung. the heeseung. the possible thing that he kept forgetting might exist. because you didn’t really talk about it. maybe there was nothing, since you have never mentioned it. and that only made it worse, because it left sunghoon’s brain wide open for theories and assumptions and a quiet, unspoken jealousy that he refused to acknowledge out loud.
jay leaned over. “you good?”
“yup.”
“you look like you’re about to throw that ball at someone’s head.”
sunghoon glanced down at the ball in his hands. “just focused.”
“focused on…?”
“winning.”
“you’re literally not up next.”
sunghoon ignored him. instead, he sat back down, pretended he wasn’t looking over at you and heeseung talking like you were in your own little world, and reminded himself that he was your friend. your helpful, emotionally-stable, always-up-for-carrying-heavy-things friend. he could handle that. probably.
and the bowling alley closed at midnight, but the group was still buzzing with leftover adrenaline and just enough alcohol to make walking in a straight line optional. naturally, that meant the next stop was the bar downstairs from sunghoon and jay’s apartment, their usual post-everything spot. jay had jungwon slung over his back in a chaotic piggyback ride situation, spinning him in slow, clumsy circles as jungwon yelled, “this is the best birthday ever!” with his arms out like a drunk airplane.
sunghoon stood at the bar, balancing on the balls of his feet, waiting for the bartender to finish pouring their next round. his hoodie sleeves were rolled up, and he was doing mental math trying to figure out if they’d ordered six or seven beers when someone stepped up beside him.
“hey,” heeseung said, casual, nodding toward the cluster of friends behind them. “you having fun?”
sunghoon smiled politely. “yeah, i am. it’s alright.”
“i’m glad you and y/n got close,” heeseung said, tone sincere. “she’s mentioned it a few times. says you’re easy to talk to.” sunghoon blinked and heeseung chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. “i mean it. she doesn’t say stuff like that about just anyone. i think she really appreciates your friendship.”
sunghoon nodded slowly, a small smile forming on his lips. part of him warmed at the idea that you talked about him at all, that maybe he wasn’t just another background character in your life. maybe you actually noticed him, his jokes, his presence, his friendship. but then again, that was the word. friendship. and hearing that from heeseung — heeseung, who might very well be the guy you curled up with at the end of the night inside sunghoon’s head — made it land like a compliment wrapped in a punch.
so sunghoon gave a small nod, grabbed the tray, and turned back toward the table with a practiced smile, careful not to drop anything or show too much on his face.
the night had mellowed into that sleepy, blurry stage where everyone was too tired to keep the party going, but not quite ready to say goodbye. the staircase outside sunghoon and jay’s condo was full of muffled laughter and shuffling feet. jay was half-carrying, half-dragging jungwon toward the entrance, mumbling something about him always passing out like a toddler on holidays.
sunghoon trailed a few steps behind them, eyes on the floor, brain already shifting into autopilot. he was thinking about how he’d need to find an extra blanket for jungwon, and how the couch springs were going to wreck his back by morning, and how weird it was that every night with you ended the same: him pretending he didn’t want to stay longer.
“sunghoon?”
your voice cut through the entrance. he turned around to find you a few steps down on the staircase, looking up at him. your makeup was a little smudged from the night, and your hair was a bit messy from the wind, but you looked so relaxed. like you’d had a good time, like you didn’t want it to end just yet.
“hey,” he said, walking back toward you.
you smiled, warm and sleepy. “i had so much fun tonight. like, actual fun. not just polite fun.”
he chuckled. “me too.”
“we still haven’t settled the bowling score though,” you added, a teasing glint in your eyes. “we’re technically tied, and i don’t like leaving things unresolved.”
sunghoon blinked. “so you’re challenging me to a rematch?”
“obviously,” you grinned. “i want a proper win next time.”
he nodded, a little slower than he meant to. “yeah. okay. i’m in.”
and you just smiled at him like that answer had been a given. like you knew he’d say yes, like this was easy. normal, friendly. but as he turned back toward the apartment, your words kept echoing in his head. “i had so much fun tonight.”, “i want a proper win next time.”
it wasn’t just what you said, it was how you said it, the way you looked at him, like the night wasn’t fully over until you said goodnight to him specifically. it sent his thoughts spiraling in that annoyingly hopeful way he tried so hard to avoid. maybe he wasn’t imagining things. maybe it wasn’t just him, falling into another crush he couldn’t manage. maybe there was something… there.
and yet, as he followed jay inside, stepped over jungwon’s half-unconscious body sprawled on the rug, and shut the door behind him, he still couldn’t tell if he was being seen the way he wanted to be seen. he was getting whiplash from hoping too much and pretending not to. and somewhere between getting a glass of water and setting up a pillow for jungwon, he realized he was completely, hopelessly, predictably into you. as if that wasn’t obvious already.
over the next few weeks, sunghoon slowly started to realize just how tangled up he was in his feelings for you. he found himself checking his phone a little more often, hoping for a message, and when you did invite him out, he tried to play it cool even though his stomach was doing flips.
most of the times you hung out, it was at gatherings with friends, the kind of casual, loud hangouts where it was hard to have a serious conversation. you would appear in the middle of a group, laughing and teasing someone, and sunghoon would catch himself watching you more than the game or the conversation. he kept guessing, quietly, that maybe there was something going on between you and heeseung, especially since you seemed close, comfortable around each other in a way that made sunghoon’s stomach tighten a little. but he never brought it up. not to you, not to jake, not even to himself out loud. it was easier to assume something was there than to face the uncertainty.
then, one evening, jake mentioned an ex of yours during a conversation, like a name dropped in passing. heeseung’s reaction caught sunghoon off guard. “that guy was such a jerk,” heeseung said, his voice low and almost protective. “you deserve so much better. you deserve someone who actually is, at least, not a jerk.”
that moment clicked something in sunghoon’s head. if heeseung was talking like that, maybe there wasn’t anything going on between you two after all. and that thought was both a relief and a reason to panic. because it meant the way was clear, but it also meant time was running out. you were amazing, and he was pretty sure there were plenty of other guys out there, sliding into your dms, trying to get your attention.
he started to feel a weird mix of excitement and anxiety, like a kid realizing he was finally allowed to play the game but also realizing how fast the clock was ticking. he wasn’t sure what to do with all those feelings, so most of the time, he just tried to keep calm on the outside while his mind raced ahead, imagining how to not mess it up.
one evening, sitting on the couch with jay scrolling through his phone, sunghoon finally decided to open up. he talked about how seeing you made him feel like he was stuck in this weird in-between, wanting more but not knowing how to get there without messing everything up. jay looked up, gave him that familiar sideways grin, and said something simple but solid: “bro, you just gotta be patient. wait for the right moment. don’t go jumping in all dramatic like you usually do.”
sunghoon rolled his eyes but knew jay was right. “yeah, i get it. no mugs with her face on it, no mixtapes, no playlist called ‘songs that remind me of you.’”
“exactly,” jay said, deadpan. “try being normal for once.”
sunghoon leaned back and closed his eyes, but his brain immediately went into overdrive. his mind was something like: okay, no mugs, got it. but what about a poem? no, that’s way too much. maybe a funny meme? too lame. what about baking cookies? wait, does she even like sweets? maybe she’s gluten-free. no clue. okay, no mixtapes, but what if i make a playlist? subtle though, not like ‘this is for you.’ maybe call it ‘songs i listen to when i’m feeling chill’? no, too vague. or maybe a mug but just plain, with a small quote? nah, still weird. what if i write her a note? no, i’m not a middle schooler. or just ask her out straight up? no, no, no. gotta wait for the moment. but when?
he sighed and looked over at jay, who was now smirking. “guess being normal is harder than it sounds.”
and a few weeks later, there was this party, and it was loud, crowded, and exactly the kind of chaos sunghoon didn’t really like. but there you were, halfway through your third drink, giggling at something nobody else had said, and instantly becoming the center of attention. you were funny, charming, and a little bit tipsy, the perfect combination for making everyone laugh without even trying. sunghoon, of course, was watching you with that panicked, how do i handle this look that only his closest friends knew too well.
somehow, the whole group decided that keeping an eye on you was his responsibility. no one said it out loud, but it was like an unspoken rule. maybe it was because he looked like the most responsible one, or maybe because you kept drifting toward him like a magnet, waving your arms dramatically while telling stories with way too much enthusiasm.
“sunghoon, you’re not going to believe what happened to me today,” you slurred slightly, swaying on your feet but managing to stay upright. “this guy at the coffee shop said i looked like a celebrity.” you wiggled your eyebrows and smiled at him, waiting for his reaction.
sunghoon blinked, trying to hide the part of his brain that was screaming she’s drunk and adorable and how do i even respond to this? “uh, that’s… great,” he said carefully, hoping it sounded casual. “you told him you’re famous now?”
you laughed, a little too loudly. “no, i said i’m just famous in my own head. get it?”
“yeah,” he smiled softly, already feeling like he’d lost the ability to say anything clever. “definitely famous.”
you reached out and grabbed his arm, leaning closer. “you’re no fun tonight, sunghoon. loosen up.” your eyes were sparkling mischievously, and sunghoon’s heart did a stupid little flip that he did not want anyone else to notice.
inside, he was running through every possible reaction: play it cool, be chill, don’t stare like a lovesick puppy. smile, laugh when she laughs, don’t mention the fact that her breath smells like cheap vodka. okay, offer her water? no, she’ll think i’m momming her. maybe just get another drink for myself to stay steady? nah, that’s just an excuse to drink too.
while he was debating this internal chaos, you suddenly burst out laughing at your own joke about the coffee shop guy, and sunghoon couldn’t help but smile, feeling himself falling deeper into whatever this was between you two. “you know,” you said, suddenly serious for a second, “i’m glad you’re here. it’s kinda nice having someone look out for me.”
sunghoon’s breath caught. “yeah, well, someone’s gotta do it.” he tried to sound casual, but there was no hiding the softness in his voice.
later, when you were wobbling a little too much to stand by yourself, sunghoon was immediately there to steady you. “i got you,” he said, wrapping an arm around your waist as you leaned on him. everyone else just watched and smiled, like this was all part of the plan.
on the way out, you stumbled a bit and he tightened his grip. “thanks for being my human crutch tonight,” you joked.
“anytime,” he replied, feeling like he should say something deeper but all he could think was please don’t fall, please don’t fall.
walking you home was quiet but comforting. you kept mumbling random things about the party and some wild idea for a band you wanted to start. sunghoon just listened, his mind half on your words and half on how lucky he felt to be the one walking by your side. and when you finally reached your apartment, you turned and gave him a sleepy smile. “thanks for tonight, hoon. you’re a good friend.”
he nodded, smiling back, but inside, the familiar mix of hope and panic swirled again. good friend was a start, but maybe he wanted to be more than that. for now, though, he was happy to just get you home safe, and try not to mess up the next time you got this adorably drunk.
you paused at the door of your apartment, a little wobbly and smiling, looking at sunghoon with eyes that were definitely feeling the weight of the night. “hey, you don’t have to walk all the way home alone, you know,” you said, leaning against the wall for balance. “why don’t you just come in for a bit? it’s late, and honestly, i’d be worried about you.”
sunghoon gave a nervous smile, trying to look confident. “nah, i’m good. i’m a big boy, i can handle it.”
he felt your gaze, half intense, half sweet, half amused, as if silently asking, really? so you laughed softly, a little tipsy but sincere. “i’m gonna stay up all night worried if you don’t come in. and my couch is super comfortable, like, really. i could sleep there, and you’ll take the bed.”
sunghoon stopped for a second, his brain trying to decode the innocent but kinda tempting offer. wait, she wants me to sleep on her bed? he thought, feeling his heart speed up just a little. okay, maybe more than a little.
“never,” he said with a playful grin, “i’m never gonna let you sleep on the couch. you sleep on the bed, and i’ll take the couch.”
you widened your eyes like “aha, so you’re saying you’ll stay?” with a mischievous smile, clearly enjoying seeing him flustered.
sunghoon tried to play it cool, but inside his head it was total chaos. okay, breathe. don’t do anything dumb. but damn, this is really nice. “yeah,” he said, “guess that’s the deal.”
you laughed, flopping back on the couch like it was your personal bed already. “good. now i won’t have to worry. and you’ll be close if i need you to save me from any weird noises or monsters.”
sunghoon chuckled. “don’t worry. i’m way scarier than any monster.”
you were already sprawled out on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, that sleepy, slightly goofy smile playing on your lips. sunghoon stood there for a moment, just watching you, feeling that weird mix of wanting to be helpful but not quite sure how. finally, he cleared his throat, trying to sound more confident than he felt.
“no no no, you should go change and sleep in your bed. don’t stay on the couch,” he said, his voice softer than he intended. inside, his brain was racing — okay, act normal. don’t make this weird. but also, don’t mess it up.
you scrunched your nose, crossing your arms like a kid who just got told to eat their vegetables. “ah, but i don’t wanna get up. it’s warm here,” you complained in that playful, stubborn tone that made sunghoon smile without even realizing it.
he laughed quietly but didn’t back down. instead, he just went over to you, and before you could argue more, he scooped you up effortlessly, just enough to carry you off the couch and start the slow walk to your room. in that moment, his heart was beating way faster than it should, and he caught himself thinking, wow, this is actually kinda nice.
when he laid you gently on your bed, he took a second to adjust the pillow behind your head, smoothing the blanket over you carefully, as if you were something fragile he wanted to protect. he stood there a moment longer, just watching your face, so peaceful now, and it hit him how much he actually cared about you, more than just friends, that was pretty obvious already, but not quite sure how to say that out loud yet.
then, leaning down slowly, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, a quiet little promise that he was there and that you mattered. he pulled back a little and said, “i’m gonna close the door, okay? you change, then go to sleep. if you need anything, just call me.”
as he reached for a blanket on the chair, ready to head back to the couch, his mind was a mess of silly thoughts— is this what people mean by 'caring'? man, why does this feel so complicated? i just want her to be comfortable, but now i’m thinking about how nice it is to be close like this… okay, calm down, sunghoon.
he smiled to himself, shook his head lightly, and settled in for the night on the couch, feeling oddly happy and a little bit hopeless all at once.
the next morning sunghoon woke up with a start, his heart still racing from a half-remembered dream. your place was quiet, but there was something different. something warm and inviting that pulled him out of the couch. as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, a comforting smell drifted toward him: the rich aroma of coffee mixed with the sweet scent of pancakes. curious, he stood up, following the smell to the kitchen.
there you were, standing by the stove in a soft, oversized pajama shirt that looked impossibly cozy. the sight of you moving around the kitchen, focused yet relaxed, hit him with a sudden wave of tenderness he wasn’t ready for. his chest tightened, a gentle ache from the simple, quiet moment unfolding in front of him. you turned and caught him watching, a shy smile spreading across your face. “good morning,” you said softly, the casual warmth in your voice making everything feel right. “i thought i’d make us some breakfast. thanks for taking care of me last night.”
sunghoon’s eyes softened as he stepped closer, his heart swelling with something like pride and affection all tangled together. without thinking, you reached out and wrapped your arms around him in a hug. the scent of your shampoo, fresh and slightly sweet, filled his senses, and for a moment he just held onto you, feeling a calm happiness settle deep inside.
“you’re welcome,” he said quietly, voice low and a little breathless. “i’m just glad you’re okay.”
you pulled back just enough to look up at him, your smile gentle but full of something more, something unspoken. the world outside the kitchen seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in that soft morning light.
so after that morning, sunghoon’s brain basically went on permanent loop mode. and not the cool, chill kind of loop, but the one where your brain is stuck on a hamster wheel powered by a caffeine-addicted squirrel, because he couldn’t stop thinking about you. every little thing reminded him of you: the smell of coffee, the way you smiled, that ridiculous oversized pajama shirt that somehow made you look like both a cozy bear and a secret heartbreaker at the same time.
he started doing these totally unplanned mental movie scenes of you both, like some rom-com that he had zero control over. in his head, there were slow-motion moments, awkward laughs, and a lot of him trying not to trip over his own words — spoiler alert: he always did. and the tragic part was that he knew he was acting like a total dork, but he couldn’t care less. he was deep in the hopeless crush zone, and the sad, funny part was he didn’t even mind being there.
sunghoon even caught himself practicing casual greetings in the mirror, whispering, “hey, what’s up?” but sounding more like, “heyyyy, whassssuuup,” which definitely was not the vibe he wanted to give off.
and sunghoon never really knew how to play the guitar. like, he could barely hold the thing properly without feeling like he was about to break it or accidentally snap a string. but then there was this song, “falling in love” by mcfly, that somehow stuck in his head. it wasn’t even a cool song to brag about knowing, but it had this weird charm, and more importantly, he thought, maybe, just maybe, he could play it for you one day.
so, he went to jay and asked to borrow his guitar. jay raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting sunghoon to give up in like five minutes. but sunghoon was serious, he wanted this. the first few days were pure disaster. his fingers hurt, and every chord change sounded like a dying cat. he fumbled, he muttered swear words under his breath, and jay occasionally peeked in, half-amused, half-worried.
after what felt like forever, with his fingers all raw and sore, he finally managed to play the whole song without collapsing into a coughing fit or breaking a string. victorious but exhausted, he sent you a message: Hey, i learned falling in love on the guitar!
you replied instantly: i want to see you play it someday :)))
sunghoon stared at his phone, heart racing like he’d run a marathon. then, of course, his brain went into overdrive. what if i mess up? what if my fingers slip? what if i sound terrible even after all this practice? but at the same time, there was this tiny spark of excitement that maybe this was a step closer to something more than just friends.
one day, sunghoon was finally doing something with jay that didn’t involve him thinking about you nonstop, which was a true miracle, really. they were just messing around, playing some dumb game on jay’s phone, cracking jokes, and for a moment, sunghoon’s brain was somewhere other than you. then his phone buzzed with that annoying notification again: someone was attacking the pokemon gym right across the street, the one he had claimed like two days ago after a fierce battle.
he glanced at the screen, and sure enough, it was snoopygirl_98, the same mysterious pokémon go player who had been stealing that gym from him every other day. the rivalry was basically legendary in his mind: the fierce battle of sunghoon vs snoopygirl_98. he never actually knew who she was, but he was determined to keep his turf.
without a second thought, sunghoon slipped his phone into his pocket, grabbed his slipper (the one goofy soft slipper he always wore around the house) and said, “jay, hold on. i gotta settle this.” jay just raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue, knowing sunghoon’s competitive streak was about to kick into overdrive. so there he was, tiptoeing out of the apartment, half slipping on the soft slipper but trying to look cool anyway. as he crossed the street, he was already imagining the showdown. “okay, snoopygirl_98,” he whispered, “time to see who’s the real champion.”
as he turned the corner onto the street where the gym always stood, sunghoon was already preparing his battle stance, phone in one hand, thumb poised like a dramatic swordsman, ready to reclaim his gym with the same urgency people usually reserved for, like, national emergencies. he was muttering strategies under his breath, rehearsing which pokémon to use first (always charizard, never blissey — blissey was a coward’s choice) when he noticed a familiar shape a few steps ahead, someone standing by the 7-eleven sign, head tilted down, clearly battling on their phone with the kind of concentration that only came from either playing pokémon go or trying to transfer money while your banking app crashes.
he squinted, slowed down, adjusted his slipper, because something about the silhouette made his brain do that annoying thing where it starts connecting dots he didn’t ask it to connect. the hoodie was oversized. the socks were mismatched. the hair was pulled up the way he always secretly thought looked really good on you even though he never said anything because what kind of guy compliments hair logistics? and then you looked up. and it was you. and sunghoon’s brain just stopped.
you didn’t see him right away, too focused on whatever attack you were tapping out on your screen and for a second, he just stood there, frozen, phone hanging limply in his hand like he'd forgotten what apps were, trying to process the fact that snoopygirl_98 — the elusive enemy who had single-handedly ruined his gym stats for months, the digital nemesis he had cursed under his breath more times than he could count — was you. you. as in, the person who still didn’t know he practiced saying “hi” in the mirror before group hangouts, just in case you were there. the person he may or may not have secretly written a list about titled “things she’s said that made me feel weird in a good way.”
and now here you were, standing across from him, completely unaware, committing virtual violence against his snorlax like it was just another tuesday. because it was, in fact, just another tuesday.
he blinked once, then again, then checked his phone, like maybe the app had glitched, like maybe this was some alternate universe where you just happened to have the exact same username as his sworn digital rival. but there it was: snoopygirl_98. blue team. level 37. the destroyer of dreams and the reason he once rage-deleted the app at 2am and reinstalled it ten minutes later because he couldn’t sleep without knowing if the gym was still his.
and somehow, somehow, it was you.
he didn’t know what to do. he couldn’t just walk up and say “hey, remember that gym you’ve been taking over every night for six months? surprise! it’s me, your accidental pokémon nemesis and also the guy who may or may not be in love with you depending on how much eye contact we’ve made in the last week.” no. absolutely not. he had dignity. barely. but he had it. kind of.
instead, he took a cautious step back like a spy retreating from an unexpected recon mission, trying not to make noise as he slid his slipper against the pavement, which unfortunately made a cartoonish squeak that echoed louder than it should have in the open air. you turned, looked up, and your face lit up the exact way it always did when you saw him, like it was just a nice surprise to run into your friend, like nothing weird was happening, like you weren’t holding his gym hostage right now with a smug-looking vaporeon.
“sunghoon?” you said, smiling, completely normal, as if this wasn’t some betrayal of trust that would go down in pokémon go history forums if he ever decided to tell the story.
he opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. “hey,” he finally said, voice much higher than usual, like someone had turned the pitch knob on his entire social confidence.
you tilted your head, confused for a second, then pointed at your screen. “you play too?”
and that was it. the unraveling. the full comedic collapse of sunghoon’s internal monologue. because play too? girl. play too? you’ve been personally destroying his soul one blissey at a time and now you were standing there acting like you were new to the whole thing, like you weren’t the blue team villain of his red team nightmares. he wanted to laugh. or cry. or possibly propose. he wasn’t sure anymore.
he forced a smile. “yeah… i dabble.”
you laughed, completely unaware of the hurricane inside his skull. “i’ve been stealing this gym for weeks. i don’t know who keeps taking it back, but it’s kind of my nightly routine now.”
he nodded slowly, like someone who’s just realized they’ve been in a romcom subplot this entire time and everyone forgot to tell them. “yeah. weird. wonder who that could be.”
you grinned. “whoever it is, they’re relentless.”
he blinked. smiled. swallowed the dramatic gasp he wanted to let out. “yeah,” he said again, staring at your phone like it had personally insulted his family. “totally relentless.”
and in that moment, as you turned your attention back to your screen and started strategizing your next move with a seriousness that honestly impressed him, sunghoon realized something that both horrified and thrilled him in equal measure: he didn’t want to win the gym anymore. not tonight. maybe not ever. because losing to you? weirdly… kind of felt like winning.
so the weeks that followed the great snoopygirl_98 2025 revelation were, to sunghoon’s brain, a chaotic montage of unprocessed emotions, late-night gym takeovers, and entirely too many internal monologues that began with “okay but what does it mean” and ended with him staring at the ceiling like always. because now that he knew you were, well, you, he couldn’t un-know it. everything felt different, except literally nothing had changed. you still sent him memes at weird hours. you still texted him “tell me something random” out of nowhere and then rated his answers out of ten. you still walked into rooms like you were casually auditioning for the lead in the sitcom of his life.
and sunghoon, for his part, was trying to be normal. keyword: trying. which mostly meant overthinking every single interaction while nodding like an emotionally competent adult. a simple “hey, what are you doing tonight?” from you became an existential riddle he could only solve through three hours of pacing and a playlist of acoustic sad songs.
he had started categorizing your texts into very serious folders in his brain, like:
folder a: possibly flirty but could be friendly if you squint.
folder b: definitely friendly but still makes his stomach feel weird.
folder c: completely neutral but somehow he read it five times anyway.
folder d: emergency. called him “dude.” instant damage. snorlax lost 400 HP.
and then, as if fate hadn’t already made things complicated enough, you started talking about how i met your mother. at first it was casual. you mentioned you’d been rewatching some episodes and sunghoon, of course, latched on immediately like a drowning man clinging to a life raft labeled shared interests. he texted back something way too enthusiastic, like “WAIT I LOVE THAT SHOW,” and then instantly regretted the all caps but it was too late.
from there, it spiraled in the best possible way. suddenly you were sending each other voice notes about barney’s worst outfits (trick question: barney is always wearing a suit), arguing over whether ted was just misunderstood or annoying (sunghoon was team both), and quoting lines back and forth. and it became a routine, you’d agree on which episodes to watch, then text throughout like you were sitting on opposite ends of the same couch, reacting in real time. and sure, sometimes the timing was off and someone got spoiled by an accidental “OMG LILY JUST SAID THAT” two minutes before the scene actually happened, but it didn’t matter. it was fun. it felt like something, like a shared little world.
and then when you were talking about season two, something about how marshall and lily’s relationship made you feel weirdly emotional in a way you hadn’t expected, and sunghoon had just typed out a Very Deep Message about love and growing up when you interrupted with:
[y/n:] why don’t you just come over and we watch together?
[y/n:] we could watch and order something like real, greasy, perfect food
sunghoon stared at the message like it was a prophecy. he reread it, twice. then a third time, just in case it turned into “actually nvm lol” when he blinked. it didn’t. it stayed there, glowing softly on his screen. and his brain, poor sunghoon’s brain, absolutely exploded.
one part of him went: she invited you over. this is it. this is the crossover episode. but what if it’s just, like, a chill friend hangout? what if she makes you watch the pineapple episode and asks if you relate to ted. and then the final part, the dramatic romantic core of his soul, just whispered: go. wear your good hoodie. the one that doesn’t smell like doritos.
he took a deep breath, typed back something that he hoped sounded effortlessly cool — probably something tragically boring like “Yeah, sounds fun :)” — and then threw his phone across the room like it had personally attacked him with joy.
because yeah, it was happening. he was going to your apartment, again, not for drinking reasons and sleeping at your couch this time, no. you were going to watch how i met your mother together. with food, and possibly blankets. and if the universe was in any way fair, maybe you’d laugh at something he said and nudge his arm and he would not panic.
sunghoon arrived five minutes early, which, for him, was an act of immense restraint considering he’d spent the last twenty debating which snacks made him look more chill. he had one hand clutching a crinkly plastic bag full of sodium and intention, and the other mentally prepared to knock even though you’d already told him, twice, to just come in when he got there. still, he hovered in front of your door for a second, wondering if the zero-calorie soda made him look like someone trying too hard not to care.
you opened the door in a big hoodie and patterned socks, looking like you hadn’t overthought a single thing today, which made him immediately regret every decision he’d made in the past hour, starting with ironing his t-shirt. you glanced at the bag in his hand, raised an eyebrow, and grinned. “you brought the entire snack aisle.”
“i wanted to make sure we don’t need to get up for at least three episodes,” he said, holding it out like a peace offering.
you peeked inside, spotted a rainbow of crunchy nonsense and two sodas, and smiled again, this one softer, and then said, with no sarcasm and no dramatic pause, “that’s actually really cute.”
sunghoon felt the sentence hit somewhere between his ribcage and his ability to behave like a normal human. “cute” wasn’t usually something he processed well. especially not when it came from you, in that tone. he gave a little laugh that wasn’t really a laugh and followed you into the apartment. the living room looked lived-in in the best way. blanket on the couch, half-melted candle on the coffee table, tv already queued up. you tossed a couple of pillows to the floor, sat cross-legged on the couch, and patted the spot next to you with zero hesitation, like this was the most natural thing in the world. he sat, careful not to take up too much space, careful not to do something weird with his hands.
you started the episode, some early season of how i met your mother, and the familiar opening theme filled the room. sunghoon tried to focus on the screen but your knee had already brushed his twice, and you were sitting close enough that he could smell your shampoo, which he refused to think about too long.
you had just grabbed a blanket and casually tossed half of it across his lap like that was completely fine. you shifted your weight, leaning slightly into him, and he told himself it was normal. you were comfortable. this was comfort. comfort wasn’t dangerous. except it kind of was, because now you were sharing a blanket, and the warmth wasn’t just from the polyester.
somewhere around the middle of the episode, you rested your hand on his arm for a second while laughing, just a quick touch, and then didn’t really move it, letting it stay there as you turned to say something about how ted reminded you of a guy you dated in college “but like, if that guy was worse at metaphors.” sunghoon nodded, mostly to cover up the fact that his brain had gone suspiciously quiet, like it was holding its breath.
you shifted again, pulled your legs up, and now your knee was leaning against his in a way that didn’t feel accidental. you didn’t apologize, or move, you just stayed like that, narrating bits of the episode, making comments, stealing a few chips from the bag he’d opened on his lap like you always did, but now it felt different, closer. intentional in a way that made sunghoon’s hands go kind of weird and tingly.
he tried to focus on the episode. really, he did. he watched barney fail another pick-up attempt, watched ted give one of his long-winded love speeches, and watched lily roll her eyes in that way she always did when she knew something before the rest of the group did. and through all of that, you kept your hand on his arm. and sometimes, your thumb moved slightly, like it was drawing little circles. he couldn’t tell if that was on purpose, and he wasn’t about to ask.
“ted tries too hard,” you said eventually, still watching the screen. “like… if he just stopped declaring things every five minutes, he’d probably be fine.”
“yeah,” sunghoon said, trying not to think too hard about how many things he’d rehearsed in the mirror just in case you ever brought up relationships. “relatable.”
you laughed lightly, looked at him sideways. “you’re not like ted, though.”
“is that a good thing?”
“it’s a good thing,” you said. and then, just like that, you leaned your head against his shoulder. not in rom-com way. just a quiet shift, like it made sense.
sunghoon blinked at the tv, which he now couldn’t see properly because your head was in the way, and decided that was perfectly fine. he didn’t need to see the episode. he’d seen it before anyway. probably twice, maybe three times. and you didn’t say anything after that, and he didn’t either. you stayed there, quiet but not awkward, and the blanket warmed up between you. he was very aware of how still he was sitting, as if moving even slightly would ruin the balance of the moment. your hand slipped down from his arm and onto his knee, not like a grand romantic gesture, more like you forgot where your hand was supposed to go and decided it was his knee now. he didn’t know what to do with that. so he let it be.
when the episode ended, you didn’t move right away. the next one auto-started, the theme song rolling in again, and you let out a soft hum, like maybe you were thinking, or maybe you were just full of snacks.
then you said, not looking at him, “we should make this our thing.”
sunghoon turned his head slightly. “what thing?”
“this,” you said. “watching how i met your mother together.”
he nodded slowly, trying not to seem too eager. “yeah. i’m good with that.”
you finally looked at him, that same easy smile on your face, and then you bumped his knee with yours, not hard, just enough to make sure he was still paying attention. he smiled back, heart doing things he would later try to explain to jay using weird metaphors involving elevators and jelly beans. and just like that, he knew he wasn’t imagining things anymore. or maybe he still was. but either way, it felt kind of real. real enough to sit quietly and let the next episode start, your head on his shoulder, your hand on his knee, and the thought in his head that maybe, finally, this wasn’t just another almost.
after that first night, watching how i met your mother together became a thing, not officially, not scheduled, not even discussed really, but it kept happening. every couple of days, one of you would text and the other would know exactly what it meant. snacks were expected, drinks too, sometimes takeout, sometimes just popcorn and half a leftover soda, but always the same couch, always the same routine.
it didn’t start out that physical, but over time, the way you sat next to each other got… closer. more relaxed. you got comfortable first, you always did. you’d throw your legs across his lap like it meant nothing, lean your head on his shoulder when you were too lazy to sit straight, or curl into his side like it was the most natural place to be. and sunghoon would freeze every time, nod like he was fine, then immediately go into full internal system reboot. he’d sit there pretending to be unaffected, nodding at the tv with the intensity of someone watching a government briefing, while you poked his knee or played with the drawstring of his hoodie like it was just a fidget toy. and he never stopped you. not once. not even when you fell asleep on his arm and drooled slightly on his hoodie sleeve. (he washed it the next day but also kind of wanted to keep it that way. he didn't tell anyone that.)
you were always the one to touch first. he was always the one to overthink it. but then one night, it was raining a little outside, and the apartment was warm, and you'd made tea for both of you for some reason, even though neither of you usually drank tea during sitcom reruns. the lights were low, the episode was one of those emotional ones where ted was being dramatic about someone leaving, and you were curled up right next to him, knee pressed to his thigh, blanket half over your lap and half over his. you looked like you might fall asleep again, but you weren’t. you were just quiet and calm, and sunghoon, in a moment of bravery that he didn’t plan and definitely didn’t rehearse, lifted his arm and rested it around your shoulders, not awkwardly, not halfway, but all the way around. solid, like he meant it.
you didn’t react for a second, then shifted under his arm and leaned your head onto his chest without saying anything. you didn’t joke, you didn’t make it weird. you just rested there like you’d been waiting for him to do that for a while. because, well, you were.
he stared at the tv, heart going approximately 800 beats per minute, trying very hard not to mess anything up by existing too loudly.
“this is comfortable,” you mumbled after a moment, voice low.
“yeah,” he said, somehow managing to sound calm even though his brain was short-circuiting. “you have a surprisingly heavy head, by the way.”
you snorted. “excuse me?”
“it’s not an insult,” he said, trying not to laugh. “it’s just. structurally. very dense.”
“maybe it’s full of all the times you’ve secretly checked me out and thought i didn’t notice.”
he blinked. actually blinked. then coughed, because his throat forgot how to function. “what— i— that’s—”
you laughed. you were clearly not taking it that seriously. you were just being you, casually flirty in a way that felt like breathing. and he could have just let it go, he could’ve rolled his eyes and changed the subject and moved on like he always did. but for some reason, this time, he didn’t.
“if i was checking you out,” he said, still looking at the screen, “i wouldn’t do it secretly.”
you looked up at him a little, one eyebrow raised, that half-smile forming on your face, the one you used when you caught him saying something he clearly hadn’t meant to say out loud. “oh?” you said. simple and amused. a bit dangerous.
sunghoon realized what he’d just said about five seconds too late, and he wanted to disappear into the couch, but it was too late now. the sentence was out there, floating in the air. you didn’t say anything for a moment. just shifted again, a little closer this time, your arm settling across his stomach casually, like this was fine, like this was good, and maybe it was. he didn’t say anything else. neither did you. the episode kept playing.
but the energy had shifted just slightly, like something had tilted in the right direction. and for once, sunghoon didn’t try to fix it or overthink it or joke it away. he just sat there, with your head on his chest, your arm across him, and the feeling that maybe, somehow, he’d just started something without even meaning to. and the best part was that you didn’t seem to mind at all.
and it was after that night on the couch that sunghoon started getting a little braver. not confident movie character braver, just small steps. like brushing your hair out of your face without immediately apologizing for it. or letting his hand stay on your knee when you sat close. or making comments that maybe sounded flirty but were delivered in such a deadpan voice that it took you a second to realize he was being serious.
he started leaning in more when you talked. he started answering your texts faster without pretending to wait five minutes like he used to. he made playlists and shared them without labeling them something obvious like songs that make me think of your face (he wanted to, but he didn’t). he was still himself, still sunghoon, still deeply confused most of the time, but there was something about that night that made him feel like maybe you wouldn’t run if he actually tried.
a few weeks later, there was a night out. the bar under the apartment again. the usual crew, some people from college, a couple new friends no one really remembered inviting. sunghoon had no idea what they were celebrating. he asked twice. jay said something about a work promotion, jake said it was just friday, and someone else said it was heeseung’s cousin’s birthday. none of it felt convincing.
but it didn’t matter. everyone was drinking, someone had ordered two baskets of fries “for the table,” and you were sitting next to sunghoon, laughing at something he’d said that wasn’t even a joke, and your hand was on his thigh like it belonged there. and sunghoon, for once, didn’t freeze. he leaned toward you, nudged your shoulder with his, and made some dumb comment about the song playing, but you laughed anyway, then leaned your head briefly on his shoulder and left it there just long enough to make his brain forget how to function for a bit.
everyone else was shouting over each other. jay was trying to convince jake to join him in some tequila shot competition that wasn’t a real thing. jungwon was filming something on his phone that would definitely not make sense in the morning. and sunghoon was sitting there thinking about how your fingers kept tracing circles on his knee, very casually, very slowly, like you weren’t even thinking about it.
and then (of course, because the universe has a sense of humor), some guy appeared, tall. friendly-looking, clearly a few drinks in. not part of your group. he walked up and said something to you. sunghoon didn’t catch the first part, just the tone: the slightly too smooth, trying-too-hard kind of tone. you laughed politely, the way people do when they’re trying not to encourage. the guy leaned in closer, asked your name. said something else that sunghoon couldn’t fully hear but saw you shift a little in response. and something in his stomach tightened.
he wasn’t mad. he wasn’t even surprised. people liked you, obviously. you were warm and funny and way too pretty for him to be sitting next to you in the first place. it wasn’t the guy’s fault, he didn’t know anything. sunghoon should’ve done this months ago, if he had the courage to do it. still, he went quiet. he looked down at his drink, then at you, then back at the guy. he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to do something. you weren’t his, there were no rules.
the guy kept talking. not aggressive, just persistent. you were still smiling, but it looked tighter now. less amused, more tired. and then, suddenly, you turned slightly, reached over, and rested your hand on sunghoon’s arm.
“hey,” you said, looking right at the guy. “sorry, my boyfriend gets kinda jealous.”
and you said it so calmly, so casually. like it was the truth. like this was normal. like sunghoon was your boyfriend and not just the guy who once forgot how to speak when you tied your hair up in front of him. the guy blinked, looked at sunghoon, who was now frozen mid-sip of his drink, cup halfway to his mouth.
sunghoon nodded once. not too fast, just enough to sell it. “yeah,” he said, voice steady. “super jealous. very possessive. not proud of it.”
you gave him the smallest side glance, clearly trying not to laugh, and squeezed his arm like you’re doing great, keep going, oscar-worthy stuff. the guy held up his hands like no worries, totally cool, and backed off without drama. he disappeared into the crowd.
the second he was gone, you looked at sunghoon and grinned. “thanks for playing along.”
he blinked. “yeah. of course.”
“you did the jealous boyfriend voice really well.”
“it’s just my regular voice,” he muttered, eyes still on his drink.
you leaned your chin on his shoulder for a second. “maybe you should use it more often.”
he didn’t say anything. mostly because his entire internal system was shutting down again. but this time, he wasn’t panicking, not really. his heart was definitely doing some weird rhythmic gymnastics and his brain had already started drafting a completely unnecessary analysis titled "what does it mean when she fake-calls you her boyfriend but then also holds your arm and looks at you like that," but he wasn’t spiraling. not in the usual sense.
so he just sat there, letting the noise of the bar blur around him, while you sipped the rest of your drink like nothing happened. and maybe for you, nothing had. maybe it was just a line, a joke. a way to get rid of an annoying guy without a scene. or maybe it was something else. something between the lines. something you weren’t saying out loud yet either.
“i want a terrible burger,” you said suddenly, finishing the last of your soda and setting the cup down with dramatic finality. “like, a bad one. like, i want to regret it in the morning.”
sunghoon blinked, pulled back into reality. “what, like… fast food bad?”
“exactly,” you said, eyes lighting up. “like wendy’s. i want to see a sad lettuce leaf in my sandwich.”
he snorted. “that’s oddly specific.”
you stood up and grabbed your jacket. “come on, boyfriend. let’s go to wendy’s.”
he didn’t correct you. he just followed you out, tossing a quick goodbye to the group still half-yelling about tequila, and stepped into the night air that felt colder than it should’ve after all that body heat and bar lighting. you walked a few blocks, mostly in silence, still a little buzzed but in that sleepy, satisfied way that made everything feel slower. then, right as you were crossing an empty street, you reached out and grabbed his hand. not in a performative way, you just took it, like it was there and you felt like holding it. like you remembered the fake-boyfriend story and decided to keep the bit going. or maybe not, maybe you just wanted to.
“you’re doing great, by the way,” you said, fingers laced through his like it meant nothing. “very convincing. the protective arm thing? ten out of ten.”
he glanced down at your hands still together. he nodded slowly. “i studied for the role.”
you grinned. “you’re a natural.”
he tried not to think too hard about it, but of course he did anyway. because holding hands wasn’t a big deal. except it was, except it was a big deal when it was you. but he kept walking next to you, hand in hand, and his brain just quietly melted. you were still holding his hand. you pointed at the wendy’s sign ahead like it was a beacon of hope. “we feast,” you declared.
he laughed under his breath, mostly because he didn’t know what else to do with all the emotions bouncing around in his chest. he didn’t know where this was going, he didn’t know what this meant. but he knew he wanted more of this — your hand, your jokes, your version of terrible food decisions. and maybe that was enough for now.
the wendy’s was almost empty, just a sleepy guy mopping the floor in the corner and a cashier humming quietly behind the counter. you walked straight to the self-ordering kiosk with the confidence of someone who had done this many times before, tapping the screen. sunghoon stood behind you, close enough that he could read the menu too, but mostly because the screen was small and the space was narrow. it wasn’t like he planned it, he just stepped forward once and then didn’t step back.
you didn’t seem to mind. you were scrolling through the combo options, talking to yourself. “okay, nuggets are too risky. fries, obviously. double cheeseburger, or do you want the one with the weird barbecue sauce again?” you didn’t turn around, just asked, still facing the screen, “what do you want?”
and he wasn’t thinking. not in a conscious way. he was just staring at the back of your head, at the way your shirt was falling off one shoulder slightly, at how close you were, at how warm his chest felt from where you were just standing in front of it like it was nothing.
so he said it. like it wasn’t anything at all.
“you.”
you laughed immediately. the kind of laugh that came out of your nose and mouth at the same time, short and surprised and familiar. you kept tapping the screen like you hadn’t heard him properly, or like he was joking. but sunghoon didn’t laugh, he didn’t say anything else. and you paused.
you turned around slowly, still half-grinning, clearly ready to tease him, but then you looked up and saw that he wasn’t grinning back. he was just looking down at you, like this wasn’t a joke. like he didn’t care that it was happening next to a laminated poster of a frosty.
and something in your expression shifted too. the smile faded, but not in a bad way, just softened, slowed down. like whatever you’d been holding back was now impossible to keep behind the usual banter. so you stared at him for a second, head tilted slightly, like you were trying to decide if you were allowed to do what you were about to do.
and then you did it anyway. you reached up, grabbed the front of his hoodie, and pulled him down toward you. not roughly, not urgently, just with purpose, and he didn’t hesitate, didn’t question it, didn’t even breathe before his mouth was on yours.
he didn’t stop to think about it, didn’t hesitate, didn’t calculate angles or worry about logistics, which was rare for him. he just moved. his heart was doing something that felt like a cross between a drum solo and a panic attack. he could feel the heat rising up the back of his neck, which was annoying because that always happened when he was nervous, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it now because your face was right there and your lips were already on his and he was kissing you.
he was kissing you. okay. okay. this was happening.
his first thought was that your lips were soft, which was so cliché and unoriginal he immediately scolded himself internally, but then he had no time to think of anything better because your hands were still on his hoodie, still holding him close, and his own hands had instinctively gone to your waist and stayed there like they knew what to do even though his brain absolutely did not.
it was warm. not just physically, but in that weird way where everything around him felt quiet all of a sudden, even though there was still the distant hum of the soda machine and the soft squeak of the mop across the tile floor. the kiss wasn’t perfect, his nose got in the way a little. he turned his head too far at first and had to readjust, which made him silently panic for a second like wait did i ruin it did she notice oh my god i bumped her tooth, but you didn’t pull back, you just leaned in more.
your mouth tasted like sprite and some other food vaguely artificial and it should’ve been gross but somehow it wasn’t. somehow it just felt real and simple. like this was something you did, apparently. kissed each other now. this was now part of the routine.
his hands gripped your sides gently like he was making sure you didn’t vanish. he didn’t know how long the kiss lasted. three seconds? ten? a full minute? he couldn’t tell. time had stopped cooperating with him. all he knew was that you were kissing him like you meant it, like this wasn’t an accident or a joke or a weird side quest in a long friendship. like this was on purpose.
his brain tried to catch up the entire time. there were at least four full thoughts bouncing around at once, all useless:
1. what if this is a dream and i wake up and i’m still on the couch with chips on my chest.
2. i don’t know what to do with my thumbs. why do thumbs exist?
3. i can’t believe she just kissed me next to a wendy’s totem.
4. i don’t want this to stop.
and then, eventually, it did stop.
you pulled back just slightly, enough to breathe, enough to look up at him. but you didn’t move away. you stayed close, like you weren’t done, like you just needed a second. so he stood there, hands still on your waist, completely unsure of what his face was doing. his mouth might’ve been slightly open, he didn’t know. his thoughts were still lagging a full minute behind his body.
you looked at him and said, “so that’s how we’re doing this now.”
his brain was still stuck on the kiss, but he blinked, nodded once, and somehow said, “apparently.” you tilted your head just a little, searching his face for something, and he realized he probably looked like a deer that had wandered into traffic and liked it. he cleared his throat, but his voice still came out low and uneven when he said, “i’m not complaining.”
you exhaled slowly, and then you smiled again, this time real and unguarded and a little too big. “first kiss next to a wendy’s kiosk. this is what dreams are made of.”
“honestly,” he said, “it’s probably the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to me in a fast food place.”
you laughed, resting your forehead briefly against his chest. “mine too. tragically.”
he rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly shy again, but it wasn’t the bad kind of shy. it was the kind that made him want to say things he’d been sitting on for weeks. “so,” he started, “there’s something else i should probably admit.”
you looked up. “okay?”
he hesitated. “you know that gym across my street? the one you’ve been defending for months?”
you narrowed your eyes. “yeah…”
he cleared his throat. “so. uh. i was the one taking it back every time. team valor. red guy with the dragonite.”
your mouth dropped open slightly. “you’re shadyhoon420?”
he winced. “in my defense, i made that username in like 2018. it was funny then.”
“it’s still funny now,” you said, shaking your head. “i thought shadyhoon420 was some twelve-year-old with too much free time.”
“nope,” he said. “twenty-something with unresolved competitive issues.”
you laughed again, full-body this time, like you couldn’t believe it. “you were trolling me for months.”
“i was trying to win,” he said. “you were annoyingly good.”
“you were annoying in general.”
“and yet here we are,” he said, glancing down at you, still tucked into his chest. “making out in a wendy’s.”
you rolled your eyes, but not in the real way. more like you were trying not to grin again. your hands were still holding onto the front of his hoodie, like letting go didn’t feel necessary yet. and he didn’t want you to. his hands hadn’t moved either, they were still resting on your waist, warm and steady, like his body knew what his brain was still trying to accept, that this wasn’t hypothetical anymore, it was real. it had happened. you kissed him, and he kissed you back.
he didn’t say anything else right away. not because he didn’t have anything to say, but because he was still sorting through the fact that for weeks, maybe longer, he’d been inching closer to you in little ways — a leg under the blanket, a hand brushing yours, a text that was maybe too honest — and now suddenly there was no more guessing. you’d pulled him in. you kissed him. you’d looked him in the face like you were just as tired of waiting.
and somehow it wasn’t weird, it wasn’t awkward. it didn’t feel like something they’d both laugh off tomorrow and pretend didn’t happen. it felt like something that had been quietly building in the background, so slowly neither of them had wanted to be the one to name it out loud, until you just did.
and now he was standing there, still in your arms, still close enough to feel the warmth of your breath on his neck, realizing that something had already started. not five minutes ago. not in the middle of the kiss, but way earlier. maybe on that first night on the couch. maybe the first time you texted him about something dumb at 2 a.m. or maybe the first time you knocked his leg with yours and didn’t move it away. and whatever it was, it wasn’t a maybe anymore.
and honestly, standing there in front of a glowing touchscreen that still said “order now” in giant, red font, that felt exactly right. because of course it would be like this, not planned, not perfect. just stupidly casual and somehow kind of perfect anyway.
you pulled away first, but only a little, and said, “okay, romantic moment over. i’m starving.”
“yeah,” sunghoon said, blinking back into functionality. “same.”
you turned back to the kiosk, finally placing the order, laughing again when he insisted on extra fries “because i feel emotionally vulnerable and carbs help.” you didn’t make fun of him. you just nodded like, yeah, that tracks. and when the food came out, you grabbed the tray and headed to the corner booth, the one you two always sat in when the place was empty, which it still was. it felt like your booth now, like it had seen things, like it knew too much.
you sat down first, immediately curling one leg under yourself and holding the burger with two hands like it was sacred. sunghoon sat next to you, not across, not leaving space, but right beside you like always, except this time, his arm went around your shoulders the second he sat down, no hesitation, no awkward pause. and you didn’t just lean into him like before. you really leaned.
your head dropped to his shoulder for a second before you took your first bite, and he felt your whole body relax against his like this was exactly where you wanted to be, and it wasn’t like before. it wasn’t just a friendly lean or a casual touch, it was closer. it felt like something that had been waiting to happen and now finally had.
you both ate in silence for a minute, the kind of silence that wasn’t empty. it was full of whatever this new thing was between you. you passed fries back and forth like it was muscle memory. he picked the pickles off your sandwich without being asked. you stole his soda without warning. and he didn’t flinch when your hand found his leg under the table and stayed there. you’d done this before. sat like this, shared food, leaned into each other, stayed late until the lights started flickering. but tonight it felt different, for very kissy obvious reasons.
sunghoon looked over at you once, mid-bite, and you caught him staring. you smiled with your mouth full and said, “don’t get all sappy on me.”
he shrugged. “too late.”
you shook your head and leaned into him again, chewing quietly, like it was no big deal. but he knew it was, and he knew this was only the beginning. and he also knew — later, when you were walking home and holding hands again like it was completely natural — that he was fully, entirely, probably hopelessly into you. and he wasn’t trying to hide it anymore.
the weeks after that night at wendy’s were weird in the least dramatic way possible. nothing major changed. you were still texting dumb questions to each other and you were still stealing his fries like they were community property. but now you kissed him, now he could hold your hand without pretending he was reaching for something else. now he could rest his chin on top of your head when you were sitting on the couch and no one would say anything sarcastic about it. it was new, but it also felt like it had already been there the whole time, just waiting for someone to label it.
sunghoon had fully expected to be awkward about it. and to be fair, sometimes he was. he still got weirdly quiet when you called him “babe” for the first time, and he once accidentally called you “dude” right after kissing you and spent the next two hours apologizing. but mostly, things were good, comfortable and fun.
you started doing more couple-y stuff without needing to make it A Thing. you grocery shopped together, you did laundry at the same time, folded each other’s hoodies like an old married couple, and argued over the right way to hang dry t-shirts. you went to a mini golf place that was weirdly intense about rules, and sunghoon realized you were more competitive than him, which was saying something.
he started to show you more of the things he usually kept to himself. like his half-written playlist ideas. like the folder of blurry phone videos he took of you without meaning to. like the fact that he still had a high score on fruit ninja and was proud of it. and one night, after you’d been watching some random youtube rabbit hole of early 2000s pop rock videos and you said, “ugh i forgot how much i loved mcfly,” sunghoon sat there in silence for a second before quietly saying, “i need to play falling in love for you.”
he played it slowly, a little shakily. he forgot a chord halfway through and mumbled something that wasn’t a word, but you didn’t laugh. you didn’t make fun of him. you just sat there listening like it was your favorite thing he’d ever done. and when he finished, you kissed his cheek and said, “you’re disgusting. i love it.”
after that, he stopped holding back so much. he let himself be more flirty, more open, more ridiculous. and to his surprise, you were just as bad, maybe worse. you texted him things like “miss ur dumb face” even if you’d seen him three hours ago. you’d randomly send voice notes where you just said “hi” in different tones and asked him to rate them.
and that’s when sunghoon realized something big: you were just as emotionally reckless as him.
you made plans too early. you got soft too fast. you saved pictures of things that reminded you of him and showed them later like it was nothing. and he was so used to being the one who caught feelings first that it completely broke his brain a little. so he started noticing it in small things. like how you’d always scoot closer to him even if there was already zero space left on the couch. or how you remembered random things he said in passing and brought them up a week later like they were important. or how your entire face changed when he walked into a room, even if you were pretending to be cool about it.
and then one night, when you were sitting cross-legged on the floor of his apartment, he blurted something out without meaning to. “did you and heeseung ever date?”
you looked up, blinked. “what?”
“i mean,” he said quickly, “not that it matters now. i just. i always kinda thought there was something there. like before.” you chewed slowly, still staring at him. “like,” he continued, clearly panicking now, “not in a jealous way. i just thought maybe you two had a thing. the way you talked. i don’t know. i used to overthink it. a lot. i almost stopped talking to you once because of it. which is dumb. very dumb.”
you swallowed, still looking at him like he’d just admitted he once ate a shoe. then you said, “sunghoon. heeseung and i bonded over the fact that we both had a crush on the same person.”
he blinked. “wait. what?”
“it was you.” he stared at you, spoon halfway to his mouth, not moving. “i’m kidding,” you said, snorting. “he had a crush on someone else. i just liked you. he used to give me pep talks about it.”
sunghoon’s brain did not know what to do with that information. “so… you liked me back then?”
“yeah,” you said, chewing again. “obviously.”
he was quiet for a long second. then: “cool.”
you smiled at him, mouth full, and kicked his foot under the table. he kicked you back. and that was that.
the first time you and sunghoon went out with everyone again, it was a thursday night. which already made it feel less official, like no one could accuse anyone of being too romantic if it was a weeknight. you and sunghoon had been in your thing for a few weeks now, whatever it was. there still wasn’t a label. no one had said “we’re dating” or “we’re together.”
but he kissed you when he saw you. he held your hand while you scrolled through takeout menus. he stayed up late with you watching videos of frogs in tiny hats. you were his. i mean, probably. almost definitely. he just hadn’t said it out loud yet and neither had you. and now, somehow, you were going to a bar together like that wasn’t the most emotionally dangerous setting in the world.
sunghoon wasn’t nervous, exactly. but he also had no idea how he was supposed to act. was he supposed to sit next to you or leave a one-person buffer zone? was he allowed to have a hand on your back when you walked in, or was that too much? could he kiss your cheek in public? would that be weird? was not doing it weirder?
you, of course, didn’t seem to be thinking about any of this. you wore that skirt he liked. you stole one of his rings before you left the apartment and didn’t even say anything about it. you walked next to him like nothing was different. and for you, maybe it wasn’t. maybe this was all normal. maybe you were normal. sunghoon, meanwhile, was just trying not to look suspicious.
they got there a little late. jay and jungwon were already posted up at the booth like they'd been born there. jake was at the bar talking to someone who may or may not have been his date, or just someone he was bothering. heeseung was somewhere, probably emotionally observing the room from the shadows like he always did. and as soon as sunghoon and you walked in together, everyone looked up. they all did the same thing: that casual glance, followed by the silent smirk, followed by the overly casual “oh hey, you made it” that clearly meant oh hey, we know what’s going on here.
sunghoon didn’t react, just nodded once, tried to be cool. completely missed the chair when he went to sit down and had to pretend he meant to lean sideways.
jay knew. of course jay knew. jay had known before sunghoon even knew. jungwon knew because jay knew. jake knew because heeseung knew, and heeseung knew because heeseung knew everything. and now all of them knew. all of them were being polite about it, but they knew. the only people who didn’t know that everyone knew were you and sunghoon.
you sat next to him, thigh against his, arm slung casually over the back of the booth, like it was no big deal. like you did this all the time. and maybe you did, now. maybe this was your thing. but sunghoon still didn’t know where to put his hand. he settled for resting it on his leg, then moved it, then put it back. he wanted to put his arm around you. he just didn’t want to make it A Thing.
jay raised an eyebrow across the table, very subtle. sunghoon glared at him. you leaned over and whispered something about the drinks being overpriced and then rested your head against his shoulder for half a second like it was nothing. sunghoon felt every cell in his body shift three degrees to the left. he didn’t even hear what jay was saying. he was too busy pretending to be normal. jungwon looked like he wanted to say something. jake looked like he was writing fanfiction in his head.
someone made a toast. someone spilled something. someone brought fries to the table and you immediately took three and fed one to sunghoon without thinking about it, and that’s when he saw the look on jake’s face. pure glee. jake mouthed awww like a traitor. sunghoon blinked and looked at you. looked at the group and realized: they all knew. they were all just pretending not to know.
he looked down at his fry, chewed slowly. whispered, “we’re not being subtle, are we.”
you looked at him, smiled, and said, “do you want to be?”
he blinked again. “not really.”
you leaned in and kissed his cheek. sunghoon thought he might combust, but in a good way. and across the table, jay, jungwon, and jake all gave each other the most painfully smug looks sunghoon had ever seen. it didn’t matter, he didn’t care. you were still close, your hand was in his lap now. you were talking to heeseung like nothing was happening. sunghoon was still alive (probably). and whatever this thing was between you two, it wasn’t labeled yet. but it was something, and maybe that was enough for now.
you left the bar a little past midnight, not totally sober but not out of it either, that sweet spot where everything was a little funnier and a little louder and no one was ready to admit they were already tired. it wasn’t freezing out, but you still tugged on sunghoon’s sleeve like your arms didn’t work and said, “i’m cold. fix it.” so he handed you his jacket without hesitation, which you immediately put on and did not zip up, because apparently the rules of temperature didn’t apply to you. the sleeves covered your hands and the shoulders were too big and you looked stupidly good in it, which made sunghoon feel something deep in his chest he chose not to name.
you walked in silence for a few steps, close but not touching, until you bumped your hand into his once, twice, and then just took it like it was yours. which, at this point, it basically was. “so,” you said, casual, like you hadn’t already been curled up next to him in a booth for the last three hours, “you wanna come over?”
sunghoon blinked. “like… now?”
you raised an eyebrow. “no, next tuesday.”
he blinked again, because his brain had chosen violence and was now playing a full powerpoint presentation of possible meanings behind that sentence. he was trying very hard to be normal, to just smile and nod and say something charming, but instead he said, “uh-huh. okay. sure. i mean, unless you were just being polite and i—”
“sunghoon.”
“yep.”
“do you wanna come over?”
he nodded, fast. “yeah. yes. definitely.”
you grinned like you knew exactly what he was doing: spiraling, overanalyzing, trying to decide if “come over” meant snacks and a rerun or if it meant come over come over.
your place was a ten-minute walk, but it felt like thirty-five because sunghoon’s brain would not shut up. he wasn’t panicking, not really, but he also couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that this wasn’t just another hangout. something about the way you asked felt different. something about the way your hand kept tightening around his, like you were already thinking about where it would be once you got upstairs.
by the time you were at your door, you were still holding his hand and sunghoon’s heart was going fast enough that he had to pretend he wasn’t out of breath just from standing there. you unlocked the door and looked at him over your shoulder. “you coming in or are you just gonna stand there looking like you’re being peer pressured by a ghost.”
he stepped inside. “i’ve never been peer pressured by a ghost, for the record.”
you tossed your keys on the counter and kicked off your shoes. “there’s a first time for everything.”
he toed off his sneakers slower, trying to figure out where to stand, what to say, how to breathe like a functioning adult. you pulled off his jacket, handed it back to him, and then did that thing where you walked past him, brushing your hand across his lower back like it didn’t mean anything, even though it absolutely did.
he stared at the floor. then at the fridge. then at you, who was now grabbing two glasses and saying something about trying a new wine that tasted like “grape juice with peach” and he had no idea what it meant or what to do with his hands, or his mouth, or his entire existence. because the truth was: he liked you. he really really really liked you. and he’d been pretending not to want more, not to think about what it’d be like to stay over, to fall asleep next to you and wake up next to you and maybe never go home again. he’d been pretending it was casual. because pretending was safer, pretending didn’t risk messing anything up.
and now here you were, in your apartment, handing him a glass of bad wine and looking at him like you were waiting to see if he’d finally catch up. “you okay?” you asked, leaning against the counter, glass in hand, looking a little too pretty for someone under yellow kitchen lighting.
he cleared his throat. “me? yeah. totally fine. great. really calm.”
you tilted your head. “you sure?”
“yep.”
you walked over slowly, standing in front of him now, wine still in one hand, the other reaching up to brush the hair off his forehead. “you’re freaking out.”
“i’m not,” he said, eyes wide.
“you are.”
“i’m— okay, i’m slightly freaking out.”
you smiled and leaned in, close enough that your breath hit his neck. “wanna know a secret?”
“always,” he said, voice lower than he meant it to be, because everything about this moment was doing something strange to his brain.
you leaned in just a little more, like you were going to whisper something, and he instinctively tilted his head toward you, breath caught, waiting. “i’ve been thinking about kissing you all night,” you said, soft but direct, like you were telling him something about the weather. “like, not just kissing. you know.”
sunghoon froze for a second. not cartoon-style. just momentarily lost control of every muscle in his body. his first instinct was to deflect, make a joke, say something stupid. throw himself out the window, maybe. but he didn’t, not this time. because his second instinct — the real one, the one under all the fake calm — was to kiss you right now. fully and properly, like he hadn’t been holding back for weeks.
you raised an eyebrow, watching him short-circuit, and said, “too much?”
he shook his head. “no. i just. wow. okay.”
“you okay?” you asked again, but this time there was a small smile on your lips, and it was very clear you knew the answer.
he nodded. “yeah. i just wasn’t ready to hear that sentence. and now it’s all i’m hearing.”
you laughed a little and stepped even closer, your body brushing up against his. “do you want me to say it again?”
he swallowed hard. “maybe later.”
you bit your lip, not in a calculated way, just like it was a reflex, and something about that made something snap a little inside him. he set his glass down on the counter, gently, like he needed both hands for whatever was about to happen. then he looked at you and said, “i don’t really want to keep pretending i’m not into you in a completely embarrassing way.”
“good,” you said, fingers grazing the hem of his shirt now, slow, testing. “because i was getting kinda tired of pretending not to notice.”
he leaned in finally, mouth close to yours but not quite there yet, and asked, “so we’re not pretending anymore?”
“nah,” you whispered. “let’s be very real.”
and that’s when he kissed you. not like before, not soft or quick or questioning. this one was different. his hands were on your waist, pulling you in like he was done pretending you weren’t all he’d been thinking about. your hands slid up his chest and curled behind his neck, like you were grounding yourself. like you’d been waiting for this, too.
at some point, you mumbled something against his mouth — maybe his name, maybe just a sound — and he breathed out a quiet “god, you make me crazy” before he could even think about it.
you pulled back just slightly, eyes a little dazed, and said, “you’re gonna say stuff like that and then expect me to behave?”
“no,” he said, already leaning in again. “definitely not.”
you were backing him toward the hallway now, hand still tangled in his hair, mouth still on his, and every nerve in his body was firing off in every direction at once, but none of it felt panicked anymore. it just felt like finally. like this was where all of it had been leading: the late nights, the inside jokes, the pretending-not-to-care casual touches that had never really been casual at all.
sunghoon's back bumped softly into the wall and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. your body was pressed to his now, fully, and your mouth moved down to his jaw, then to the side of his neck, slow and unhurried, like you were trying to memorize the way he felt. his hands were on your waist, thumbs sliding under the hem of your shirt without meaning to, like they’d decided on their own that they wanted more. and the thing was, so did he. he wanted more. not just physically, though that was part of it. but everything, all of it. the way you looked at him like he was worth undivided attention, the way you touched him like you weren’t scared of what it meant, the way you weren’t hesitating now.
he had no idea what he was doing, not really. but it didn’t matter, not with the way your fingers had found their way under his shirt now too, trailing up his ribs like you were checking if he was real. he was starting to think he wasn’t. you leaned back just enough to look at him, your face close, breathing uneven. “you good?” you asked, voice low, teasing, but still somehow gentle.
he nodded, barely. “yeah. i just…” you waited, eyes flicking to his lips again, like you already knew what he was about to say. “i really want you,” he said, quiet but steady, “and i’m trying not to freak out about it.”
you smiled, something softer now, less teasing, and leaned in again, your mouth brushing his as you said, “then don’t.”
and he didn’t. he kissed you again, deeper this time, one hand sliding up your back, the other staying low on your waist, anchoring you to him. you pulled him away from the wall slowly, guiding him back toward your room with nothing but your body pressed into his and the way you kissed him like you’d been waiting just as long. his hands were shaking a little, but not in a bad way. in the way that came from finally letting go of all the restraint he didn’t even realize he’d been carrying.
you turned around once, just before stepping through the door, and looked at him, not playful this time, not challenging, just full of whatever this was between you. then you pulled him in by the front of his shirt, and he followed, heart pounding, completely undone by how easy it felt to say yes to you.
he followed you into the room, one of his hands went straight to your waist, pulling you in again, and the other slid into your hair like he was finally done pretending he didn’t want to touch you like this. you looked up at him, mouth parted, breathing a little uneven now, like maybe you weren’t expecting him to get like this, not this sure of himself. “you okay?” he asked, echoing your earlier words, voice low now and just barely smug. “you’re looking a little... distracted.”
you blinked at him, caught off guard for half a second. “you think you’re funny now?”
“no,” he said, fingers slipping under the back of your shirt as he leaned in, “i think i’m winning.”
you didn’t say anything. just kissed him again, rougher this time, like you were challenging him to keep up, and he did. he moved with you, pressed into you, kissed you back like he finally knew he could. he walked you backward without breaking the kiss, hands firm on your waist, pushing you gently until your legs hit the edge of the bed. you sat first, pulling him down with you, and he smiled against your mouth as you tugged at his shirt like you were losing patience.
“you’ve been thinking about this too, huh?” he murmured against your throat, voice dark and teasing, lips brushing that spot right under your jaw that made your knees weak. you didn’t answer, just mouthed at his neck in retaliation. he chuckled. “yeah,” he whispered. “me too. been losing my mind over you.”
“shut up,” you said, though your hands were already sliding under the hem of his shirt.
“make me,” he said, and you actually laughed, this breathless, surprised sound that turned into a half-moan when his mouth found that spot below your jaw you didn’t even know was there. he pulled back for a second, just long enough to look at you. your hair was a little messy, your lips were red, your hands were still on him, and he couldn’t believe he’d spent so many nights trying to act casual about you.
and sunghoon — who had once nearly passed out just from you holding his hand at wendy’s — now had you under him, fingers teasing at your waistband, mouth trailing along your collarbone, fully lost in the way you were looking at him like you wanted everything at once.
you shifted under him, hips tilting up slightly. his hands were more confident now, not just hovering or tracing but gripping, like he didn’t want to miss any part of you. one hand slid up under your shirt, palm warm against your stomach, and he felt you tense just a little, then relax into it completely.
you tugged him closer, thighs parting so he could fit between them, and he fit there like he belonged, grinding down slowly, testing. your breath hitched, nails digging into his shoulders, and that did something to him. he groaned quietly, not on purpose, and you caught it. your fingers were in his hair again, tugging a little now, and he swore under his breath when your teeth grazed his bottom lip. your shirt was pushed up now, not off yet, but enough for his hands to explore, and his mouth followed the trail — slow kisses down your neck, then across your chest, lingering just long enough to make you arch into him. your breath hitched again, and he looked up at you, completely gone.
“tell me if you want me to stop,” he said, serious for a second, low and right against your skin.
you shook your head. “don’t.”
your hands were under his shirt now, greedy and warm, and he let out a shaky breath as you slid them up his back. “fuck,” he muttered. “you feel so good—better than i ever imagined.” he kissed you again, hungrier this time, like he wanted to memorize your mouth. “you’re so fucking pretty, y/n. can’t believe i get to touch you.”
your shirt was off now, just tugged over your head and dropped somewhere behind you, and sunghoon stared for maybe a second longer than he meant to. not out of shock, but because he couldn’t believe you were real. that this was real. that this was actually happening. and then you reached for the hem of his shirt, fingers cool against his stomach, and that was it, he was done pretending he had a single functioning thought left in his head.
he let you pull it over his head, arms moving clumsily, breath already shallow. your hands were on his skin before the fabric even hit the floor, sliding up over his chest, across his shoulders, and he had to physically stop himself from just collapsing into you. you bit your lip when his hips rolled into yours again, slower this time, like he was testing the friction. your breath caught, and you arched into him without thinking. “hoon…”
his whole body shuddered when you said his name like that. “god, you sound so good,” he breathed. “you don’t even know what you do to me.” his hands were back on your waist now, warm and grounding, and he kissed you again, slower, sweeter, like he wanted to savor the taste of you. “you’re not gonna get rid of me after this, you know,” he whispered into your mouth. “not after i’ve had you like this.”
you smiled a little, breathless. “who said i wanted to get rid of you?”
that made him pause for a second, just to look at you again, like he couldn’t believe this was really happening. “jesus,” he muttered. “you’re gonna ruin me.”
you pulled him down for another kiss, hands slipping lower, dragging your fingers across the waistband of his pants. he groaned when your palm brushed over him through the fabric, hips twitching like he couldn’t help it. “fuck, baby,” he hissed, “you’re making it really hard to be gentle.”
“then don’t be.”
he let out this low, disbelieving laugh like you’d just told him the best secret in the world. tugging your skirt and panties down, he kissed his way along your hips and lower, dragging his mouth over your skin like he was savoring you already. “every part of you… perfect,” he whispered, eyes flicking up just once to see your chest rising, lips parted. “i wanna touch you everywhere.”
and he meant it. his hands were warm and steady, spreading over your thighs, your waist, your stomach, exploring you like you were something rare. he took his time, like he’d waited too long to rush now, brushing his fingers gently along your inner thigh, coaxing goosebumps to rise under his touch. you were already shivering with anticipation when he kissed the inside of your knee, then higher, then higher again.
you whimpered, hips lifting involuntarily, and he kissed down your stomach slowly, lips dragging over your skin like a promise. his hands settled on your thighs, thumbs stroking gently over the soft skin there. then he paused, and his eyes flicked up to yours, darker now, but still so soft.
“can i taste you?” he asked, voice quiet but low with need. “please, baby. i need it.” your breath caught. your fingers threaded through his hair almost instinctively as you nodded, thighs parting just a little in silent answer. “yeah?” he breathed, kissing the inside of your thigh. “you’ll let me take care of you?”
“yes,” you whispered, already trembling. “sunghoon, please.”
he groaned, like that was all he needed to hear. “thank you,” he murmured, kissing higher. “gonna make you feel so good, pretty girl.”
and then his mouth was on you, tongue sliding between your folds with that slow, deliberate stroke, and your whole body jolted under him.
“fuck—so sweet,” he groaned, his voice muffled against you. his fingers came up to part you gently, spreading you open so he could really taste you. “you’re unreal, baby. can you feel how wet you are for me?”
you gasped, back arching, one hand gripping the sheets while the other tangled in his hair like it was the only thing keeping you grounded. he groaned again when you tugged, clearly enjoying every reaction he pulled from you. he licked into you like he was starved for it, slow at first, methodical, dragging his tongue in long strokes and humming low when your thighs tensed around his shoulders. then, when he sucked your clit into his mouth, you cried out, hips bucking off the bed, and he held you down firmly, not letting up for a second.
“that’s it,” he said against you, his breath hot and his tone ragged. “so fucking good for me.”
you couldn’t even speak, just moaned and gasped, feeling your whole body coil tighter and tighter as he kept working you over with that perfect mouth. your thighs were trembling now, breath shaky, every nerve strung taut. he reached up, lacing your fingers with his, grounding you just as the pressure tipped over into something explosive. “come for me,” he murmured, voice low and coaxing. “let me have it.”
and you did. you shattered beneath him, shaking, your body clenching and curling in on itself as the orgasm crashed over you, white-hot and overwhelming. you called his name, half gasp, half cry, pulling at his hair with one hand and squeezing his hand tight with the other. your body stuttered, hips twitching, thighs clamped around his head, but he didn’t stop until your whimpers turned desperate, overstimulated and wrecked.
“okay,” you panted, tugging weakly at his shoulder. “okay—hoon—please…”
he finally pulled back, lips shiny, cheeks flushed, and eyes completely wild with awe. he looked like he’d just seen god, and maybe he had. you. unraveling for him, only for him. “you’re…” he started, voice rough as he crawled back up your body, kissing your stomach, your chest, your throat, your jaw. “you’re fucking perfect. i’ve never—never wanted someone like this.”
you cupped his face as he hovered over you, and he leaned into your touch instantly, forehead pressed to yours, his breathing still ragged, like he couldn’t believe any of this was real. “you don’t even know what you do to me,” he whispered, voice hoarse and low. “i’ve wanted this, wanted you, for so long.”
you kissed him again, slower this time, your fingers brushing through his hair, and he deepened it with a quiet groan, like he needed to taste you to keep himself grounded. when he pulled back, just enough to look at you, his eyes were wild and soft all at once, like he was overwhelmed by you. “feel that?” he murmured, pressing his hips down against yours. “you make me this fucking desperate, baby.”
you gasped when he rolled his hips again, perfectly slow, perfectly cruel. “can still taste you on my lips,” he said, kissing you once more. “i want you to taste it too.” the kiss this time was messier and you could feel yourself melting into it. he kissed you like he wanted you ruined, like he needed you wrecked and shaking and breathless. and you were close already, so close again from just that, from the way he said your name like a secret prayer.
“turn over for me,” he whispered suddenly, voice dipped in reverence. you did, your body trembling a little with anticipation as you shifted onto your stomach, heart racing. he traced your spine with his fingers, slow and deliberate, until both hands settled at your waist. “you’re unreal,” he whispered, and he meant it. “do you know that? the way you sound, the way you feel… i could lose my mind just looking at you.”
he leaned down then, mouth brushing the back of your shoulder, trailing kisses down your spine as his hands slid down, thumbs spreading gently over your hips like he was committing every inch of you to memory. “you drive me crazy,” he murmured. “every time you look at me, every time you laugh… fuck, i’m so gone for you.”
and when he kissed the back of your thigh, slow and lingering, you felt it everywhere, like heat blooming under your skin. “let me take my time with you,” he said, kissing his way back up. “wanna make you feel good. wanna make you remember this.”
you could only nod, breath caught in your throat, hands fisting the sheets beneath you. because sunghoon didn’t just want to touch you, he wanted to worship you. his hands smoothed over your hips, firm but reverent, as he bent down, pressing a kiss to the base of your spine. “you’re shaking,” he murmured, voice laced with awe. “still so sensitive, aren’t you?” you nodded, cheek pressed to the sheets, body already reacting to the weight of his touch. “but you’re taking it so well,” he whispered, one hand sliding between your thighs, coaxing them apart again. “you’re such a good girl for me.”
you gasped when his fingers found you, already soaked, still fluttering from the last time. “look at this,” he groaned, dragging his fingers through the slick mess he left behind. “this pretty little pussy just begging for more.”
you whined, pressing back against his hand without even meaning to, and he chuckled low behind you. “you want it again?” he asked, voice almost gentle. “need me to make you feel good, baby?”
“yes,” you breathed. “please.”
that was all he needed. he leaned down again, kissing the swell of your ass before spreading you open with both hands. and then he dipped his head, tongue sliding between your folds. you cried out, hips jolting, the sudden pleasure overwhelming. he groaned, licking you from behind like he was starving for it. you buried your face into the mattress, fingers clawing at the sheets, the stretch of your body making every sensation sharper.
his hands gripped your thighs as his mouth worked you open all over again, licking and sucking with the kind of desperation that made your knees weak. and then his hand slid under you, fingers rubbing tight circles on your clit as his mouth stayed on you, wet and relentless.
“that fucking pussy tastes so good,” he praised, voice breathless. “give it to me again. wanna feel you come on my tongue, baby.”
you were already spiraling, the pressure building fast and hot, your whole body wound so tight you could barely breathe. “fuck, sunghoon—i’m—”
and you did, again. shaking, crying out, your body going completely still before collapsing into tremors, overwhelmed by the heat of his mouth and the soft, dirty praise spilling from his lips. he didn’t stop until you were whimpering, twitching under him, begging him to stop, begging him to keep going, you couldn’t even tell anymore.
when he finally pulled back, panting, mouth glistening, he kissed your lower back and whispered: “you’re fucking perfect. i’m not done with you yet.”
he watches you as you turn over slowly, still catching your breath, your skin flushed and glowing, hair sticking to your forehead in messy strands. you’re a vision, wrecked and beautiful, lips swollen, eyes glassy, your chest rising and falling like you’ve just survived something holy. his gaze drags over you, slow, reverent, like he doesn’t know where to look first. like he wants to worship everything.
“fuck,” he breathes. “look at you…” you blink up at him, dazed and buzzing, legs still trembling from the last time he pulled you apart. his hands settle on your waist, grounding you. his thumb rubs soft circles into your skin like he’s easing you back into your body, not rushing, just feeling you.
“can i?” he asks, voice low and hoarse. there’s something almost shy in the way he says it, like he’s trying not to ruin the moment, like despite everything, he still needs to be sure you want this too.
you nod once, still breathless. “yeah,” you whisper. “please.”
his pupils darken, breath stuttering in his chest. the way you say please, oh, he could fall to his knees again just from that. he kisses you, slow at first, deep, aching, his tongue brushing yours like he’s trying to memorize your taste. and then it turns hungry, hands gripping your face like he can’t believe he gets to touch you, like he doesn’t want to come up for air. “you’re everything,” he murmurs against your lips, voice shaky. “i mean it—everything. i wanna make you feel so fucking good again.”
you let out the softest whimper, and that’s all he needs. he kisses down your jaw, your neck, between your breasts, leaves open-mouthed kisses down your stomach, taking his time. he’s not in a rush, he wants to savor you. his hand trails down, fingers brushing your inner thigh, and you part your legs for him instinctively. you’re still so sensitive, every little touch making you twitch, your hips lifting up to meet him. “this pretty pussy’s still so wet,” he groans, almost in disbelief. “you’re unreal, baby.”
his fingers slip between your folds again, dragging through the mess he made earlier, and you let out a gasp, hand flying to his wrist. “shh,” he soothes, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “i got you. just wanna make you feel good. let me take care of you, yeah?”
you nod, lips parted, already melting under his touch. he kisses you again, messy and hot, and then without warning he slides two fingers in deep, curling them just right. your mouth falls open in a silent cry, hips jerking. “that’s it,” he praises. “fuck, i love how you take me. your pussy is clinching around my fingers, baby.”
his fingers keep working you open, his mouth back on your neck, sucking dark marks into your skin like he wants to leave proof that he was here. and just when you think you’re going to fall apart again, he pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes. “you’re mine, right?” he asks, voice like gravel. “please say it, baby”
“i’m yours,” you breathe, and it comes out shaky, desperate.
he groans like he’s losing his mind. “good girl.”
his body hovered over yours, warm and steady, and when your eyes met, something shifted, like the air grew heavier, thick with everything you both had been holding back. he kissed you like a thank you, like a silent prayer, like he couldn’t believe you were real and his all at once. then he leaned back on his knees, eyes locked on yours as he brought his hands down to the waistband of his jeans. he popped the button open with a quiet click, dragging the zipper down slow, teasing, but there was a kind of quiet urgency in his movements too, like he couldn’t wait another second to feel you again.
when he pushed his jeans and boxers down, your breath caught. he was big. thick and flushed and perfect, tip already leaking, heavy against his stomach. your mouth went dry, heat curling low in your belly as you stared, he was so pretty it almost hurt, like every inch of him was made to ruin you.
his eyes watched your face carefully, catching the shift in your expression. “yeah?” he rasped, cock twitching under your gaze. “you like what you see, baby?”
you nodded before you could think, heart hammering, thighs already pressing together. “you’re perfect,” you whispered, almost breathless.
his lips parted at that, something dark and tender flickering behind his eyes. he leaned in, hand wrapping around himself as he hovered over you again, dragging his tip through your slick folds, slow and deliberate, teasing your entrance. “fuck,” he murmured, voice ragged. “say you want me, please.”
“i want you,” you breathed, hips lifting. “hoon—i need you.”
he groaned like the sound of your voice broke something in him. and when he finally sank into you, slow, deliberate, like he wanted to feel every inch of you claiming him back, it stole the air from your lungs. he bottomed out with a shudder, forehead pressed against yours, hand cupping your jaw like he needed the grounding just as much as you did.
his tip presses in first, thick and hot, and even though your body is already soaked and aching for him, the stretch is still overwhelming. your walls flutter around him, trying to pull him deeper, but he takes his time. his hands grip your hips, grounding you as he inches in further, every slow push making your body arch and your breath catch. “fuck—baby,” he chokes, eyes fluttering shut as he feels the way you clench around him. “you feel so good… so tight. taking me so perfectly.”
you can barely hold still. your fingers grip his lower back, your mouth falls open, and a moan tears from your throat, raw, needy, helpless. he leans down, chest brushing yours, and presses soft kisses along your collarbone, whispering into your skin between every word like a prayer. “you’re unreal. unreal, baby. fuck—”
your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, pulling him in further, and he groans deep and guttural, like he’s losing control. the last inch pushes in slow, your bodies finally fully connected, the heat between you almost unbearable. you both go still for a second, breath mingling, your hearts racing in sync. your walls flutter around him again, adjusting, and his forehead drops to yours. “you okay?” he breathes, voice wrecked, like it’s taking everything in him not to move.
you nod, eyes glazed. “so full,” you whisper. “feels so good.”
he groans softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “yeah? i’m gonna take care of you, pretty girl. i promise.”
and when he finally starts to move slowly, with deep thrusts that drag against your most sensitive spots, you swear you see stars. his hips roll into yours with precision, his body fitting against you like he was built for this, for you. every stroke hits just right, every whispered praise against your cheek making you melt further into the mattress.
“you’re doing so good,” he pants. “taking me so well. your fucking pussy feels so fucking good around my cock, baby.”
you reached for him with shaking hands, fingers sliding into his hair, pulling him up to meet your mouth in a hungry kiss. he groaned when your tongue slid against his, his body still trembling from the last time you came undone under him. but this time, you weren’t just going to take. you wanted to give back, to feel him fall apart for you too.
“lay back, hoon,” you whispered against his lips, voice still wrecked and sweet. “let me ride you.”
his eyes widened slightly, dark and heavy with heat, but he nodded, eager, desperate, completely at your mercy. he sank into the pillows, breath stuttering when you straddled his hips and reached between your bodies to guide him in. you both gasped at the stretch, the slick slide of him filling you again. but now it was your rhythm, your pace. slow at first, grounding yourself on his chest as you rocked your hips forward, letting him feel all of you. his hands gripped your thighs, mouth open in a silent moan as he looked up at you like he was watching something holy.
“fuck, baby,” he breathed. “you feel—jesus, you feel perfect.”
you rolled your hips again, a little faster, loving the way his voice cracked, the way his fingers dug deeper into your skin. his head fell back against the pillow, eyes fluttering shut, and you leaned down to kiss along his throat, his collarbone, your name falling from his lips like a prayer. “look at me, hoon,” you whispered, kissing the corner of his mouth. “wanna see your face when you fall apart.”
he did, eyes locking with yours, glassy and wild and reverent all at once. “keep going,” he begged, barely coherent. “just like that. you’re so good. keep riding me, baby. i’m not gonna last.”
you smiled, breathless, sweat-slicked skin sticking to his as you kept moving, kept grinding, kept giving him everything. and when his hips bucked up and he cried out your name like it was the only word he remembered, you knew you had him, ruined and wrecked and completely yours. “please, baby, i need,” he begged, barely coherent. “let me cum inside you, fuck— i need to fill you up, princess.”
you smiled and nodded, breathless, sweat-slicked skin sticking to his as you kept moving, grinding down on him with a rhythm that had both of you teetering on the edge. his hands roamed your body like he couldn’t get enough, gripping your hips, sliding up your sides, thumbs brushing over your ribs. like he needed to memorize you. “fuck, look at you,” he groaned, eyes locked on where your bodies met. “riding me so good. taking me so deep. this pussy was made for me, wasn’t it?”
you nodded, dazed, moaning as you bounced harder, chasing the high that was coiling tight in your belly again. and he didn’t stop talking, not for a second. “you feel that, baby? how tight you are around me? fuck, i’m losing it,” he breathed, voice rough and reverent. “you’re gonna make me cum inside you, such a good girl, fuck!”
you leaned down, kissed him hard, swallowing the broken sounds spilling from his mouth. he kissed you back like he needed it to breathe, tongue desperate, hands sliding up to cup your face. you were already there, his name falling from your lips like a prayer, body shaking from how deep he was hitting, how full he made you feel. and when you clenched around him again, when your orgasm hit with dizzying force, he lost it with you, hips stuttering, hands gripping your ass as he came with a strangled moan, burying his face in your neck while he filled you up.
you held each other, trembling, hearts racing. you were still catching your breath, chest heaving, skin slick with sweat, when he slid out of you, slow and careful, like he didn’t want to let you go just yet. you barely had time to whimper at the sudden emptiness before he was shifting, lying back against the pillows with a look in his eyes that made your stomach flip.
“come here,” he murmured, voice hoarse, one hand trailing down your spine. you blinked at him, legs weak, but then he grinned, lazy and wicked, and pulled you up gently by the hips. “wanna taste you like this,” he said, guiding you forward until your thighs were straddling his face. “wanna feel the mess you made all over me.”
your breath caught. “sunghoon—”
“shh,” he whispered, eyes dark and blown wide. “you’ve been so good for me. let me be good for you now.”
he didn’t wait for permission this time. his hands gripped your thighs and pulled you down onto his mouth like he’d been starving for it. his tongue was filthy, flat and firm and everywhere, licking you clean, then messy again, kissing and sucking and moaning against your skin like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.
you cried out, hips rolling without thought, thighs trembling around his head. and he took it, wanted it, his fingers digging into your flesh as he held you steady. “fuck—sunghoon,” you gasped, one hand in his hair, the other braced on the headboard.
he groaned into you, the sound vibrating through your core. “that’s it, baby. ride my face. come on—fuckin’ use me.”
your thighs shook harder with every swipe of his tongue, every slick, obscene noise echoing in the room, and when he closed his mouth around your clit and sucked just right, your whole body went rigid. and when he pressed his nose around your clit and held your hips and made you grind around his face, oh god, you lost it. “that’s it,” he murmured, breathless and soaked, licking you through it. “come all over my face, baby. let me feel you fall apart again.”
and you did again. and again. until your body gave out, and you collapsed into him, trembling, boneless, his arms around your waist, kissing your thighs like they were sacred.
“you’re unreal,” he whispered, voice thick with awe. “how the fuck did i get so lucky?”
his grip softened as he felt you tremble above him, and when you finally started to come down, your thighs still quivering around his face, he slowed. but his mouth didn’t stop. he kept kissing you with soft, kitten licks, gentle, rhythmic, like he was savoring every last drop of you. little hums vibrated against your skin as he pressed sweet, worshipful kisses between your folds, almost lazy now, like he was calming you down with his tongue.
you gasped softly, too sensitive, your hips twitching with every warm, delicate lick. “can’t get enough of you,” he whispered against your heat, nuzzling between your thighs. “you taste like heaven, baby.”
he let go of your waist just enough to guide you off him, helping you lie down on the mattress with shaky limbs. and then, slow, almost reverent, he climbed over you. he kissed your inner thighs first, lips soft and warm and open. then the swell of your hips, your stomach, your ribs. each kiss was slow and full of something deeper, like he was memorizing you now, not just your body but you, soaking in every inch.
“my pretty girl,” he murmured against your skin. “my favorite thing in the world.”
his mouth reached your chest, kissing over your heart, then up the column of your throat, slow and smiling. by the time he reached your lips again, your eyes were already fluttering shut, your body humming with warmth. he kissed you sweetly, lovingly. no rush. just the kind of kiss that said you’re mine, i’ve got you, i’m still here. and when you sighed into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair again, he whispered, “i want to make you so happy.”
you were both lying there, still breathing a little unevenly, not quite ready to move. the room was warm in that quiet, post-everything way. your leg was draped over his without thinking, one of his hands resting on your stomach, steady now, grounding. the other hovered in the space between your ribs and your hip, like he wanted to touch more of you but didn’t want to push anything too far than he already did.
and sunghoon wasn’t staring on purpose, he just couldn’t stop looking at you. your hair was messy. your skin was warm. you had that look on your face like you were pretending to be calm but weren’t. and he couldn’t stop replaying the last hour in his head, not even the specifics, just the fact that it happened. it happened, you happened, with him.
you wanted him. he couldn’t believe it. because this wasn’t some almost. this wasn’t a flirty text or a maybe-lingered hug or a “did that mean something?” moment. this was real, it happened. you were here in his arms. naked. smiling. breathing slow. and the truth was — it was the best thing that had happened to him in a long, long time.
not just the sex. that was insane, amazing. unfair, honestly. but it was more than that. it was how close you let him be. it was the way you looked at him like he wasn’t just some guy. like you’d been waiting for him just as much as he’d been waiting for you. and he was trying to memorize it all. the heat of your skin under his hand. the curve of your smile when you caught him staring. the weight of your leg over his, like you weren’t planning to go anywhere.
you turned your head toward him, cheek pressed into the pillow, eyes still lazy and soft. “you’re staring.”
he blinked. “no i’m not.”
“you literally are.”
he swallowed, trying not to smile. “okay. yeah. but respectfully.”
you raised an eyebrow. “what does that even mean?”
“means i’m just... taking it all in,” he said, quieter now. “i don’t know. trying to make sure this wasn’t a dream or something.”
you didn’t laugh at that. you didn’t roll your eyes or change the subject. you just looked at him, and he looked at you, and for once, he didn’t say anything else. because for the first time in a long time, everything he wanted was already here. and he wasn’t gonna miss a single second of it.
so he shrugged, face somehow more relaxed than you’d ever seen it. “just means i’m admiring you without being weird about it.”
“you just called me your favorite thing in the world like five minutes ago.”
“and i meant it,” he said, no hesitation. “top tier. no notes.”
you smiled, then looked up at the ceiling. “this is weird.”
sunghoon blinked. “like... weird in a good way or weird like we should never do this again and i should move to another country?”
“no, dumbass.” you laughed. “like weird that this actually happened,” you said. “we’ve been circling each other forever and now we’ve crossed into, like, very naked territory.”
he turned onto his side to look at you properly, propping himself up on one elbow. “you say that like i wasn’t already fully in love with you the second you stole my last fry that one night.”
you laughed, soft and tired, and scooted closer. “you’re such a dumbass.”
“i contain multitudes,” he said, smiling.
you leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth, just because it was there. just because you could now. after a few quiet seconds, he added, “i also might’ve... rehearsed stuff. in my head. like this. this whole night. not, like, in a creepy way. just. i thought about it a lot.”
“how much is ‘a lot’?”
“you don’t wanna know.”
you looked at him, eyes narrowing. “sunghoon.”
“like... entire imaginary scenarios,” he said, face slightly red now, voice muffled as he dropped back onto the pillow. “dialogue included. you said very flattering things in my head, by the way.” you started laughing, trying to muffle it into his shoulder, and he groaned. “this is the worst post-sex confession in history.”
“no, this is peak you,” you said. “romantic and slightly unhinged.”
“you make me unhinged,” he muttered, then covered his face with one hand. “i’m never speaking again.”
you reached over, peeled his hand away, and kissed his cheek. “don’t worry. you already said everything right.” he went quiet after that, just looking at you again, softer now. less flirty. more like he couldn’t believe you were real. you held the look for a second, then nudged him again. “also, i still can’t believe your pokémon username is shadyhoon420.”
“why would you bring that up now,” he whispered, betrayed.
“because you just made me see god and now i’m ready enough to bully you again.”
he groaned again, dragging the blanket up over his face. you laughed and curled into his side anyway, and even though he was pretending to be dramatic, his arm pulled you in without hesitation. and that was how you stayed. warm, tangled, slightly wrecked, and fully, unapologetically into each other.
the week after was weird. not in a bad way, just different. like, sunghoon hadn’t really planned what came after sleeping with you. his brain had mostly stopped at oh my god it’s happening, and never got around to figuring out what do i do now that it did. turns out: what he did was text you every morning like he hadn’t just seen you eight hours ago. send you playlists like he hadn’t already made three for you. randomly show up with coffee and snacks like he wasn’t trying to see you again that night anyway.
he was down bad. and he wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore.
he came over two days later with your favorite ice cream. not because you asked, not even because you hinted. just because he passed a convenience store and thought, she likes that one with the caramel stuff, i should get that. you answered the door in pajama shorts and one sock, took the ice cream, kissed his cheek, and said “you’re so obsessed with me” like it was a joke, but he just said “yeah” and followed you inside like it was true. because it was.
he slept over again that night. and the night after that. and the one after that. and by monday, all his stuff was still technically at his place, but his phone charger, his cologne, and three pairs of socks had somehow migrated to your apartment. you made fun of him for the socks, and he said it was “for emergency purposes,” which didn’t even make sense, but you let it slide.
you, on the other hand, got more chaotic just in a very you way. you started kissing him in the middle of sentences. reaching under his hoodie in the middle of a movie. you’d say stuff like “should we go to bed?” with your hand already halfway down his back, and when he asked “to sleep?” you’d just grin and walk off like you’ll see.
you also started calling him ridiculous things in front of other people. “my man,” “baby,” “loverboy.” jay almost choked on his drink when you casually said “sunghoonie, pass me that” in the middle of a group hang. sunghoon blinked three times in a row and handed you the drink without speaking.
you were reckless with it. you sat in his lap at his apartment like it was a chair. held his hand in public. bit his earlobe once while he was trying to explain something about pokémon raids and ruined his entire train of thought. he was spiraling, but, like, happily.
he said “i like you” at least twice a day, sometimes for no reason. he told you your hair looked nice even when it didn’t. he got quieter whenever you wore his clothes but didn’t take them back. once, when you said “you’re kinda clingy now, huh,” he just said “yeah. sorry. can’t stop.”
you didn’t mind. you teased him constantly but kissed him just as much. called him ridiculous but curled into him every night. and when he said “i think i like this version of us,” you said “me too,” and kissed the corner of his mouth like you planned to stay that close for a while. maybe longer.
sunghoon had been thinking about asking you to be his proper girlfriend for, like, a week and a half. well, technically longer. emotionally since day one. but officially? yeah, one and a half weeks of pure, uninterrupted chaos in his brain. the problem wasn’t that he didn’t want to ask you. the problem was that he wanted it too much. he wanted to do it right. he wanted it to be special, but not cringe. romantic, but not too much. surprising, but not out of nowhere. he didn’t want to scare you. but he also didn’t want you to think he was casual about this. he wasn’t. he was emotionally unwell about it, actually.
so, naturally, he did the worst possible thing: he asked jay for advice.
they were at their place, sitting on the floor, jay had just beaten him at mario kart for the third time and was in his usual post-victory smug mode when sunghoon blurted out, “do you think now’s too soon to ask her to be my girlfriend?”
jay blinked. “you literally sleep over at her place more than your own.”
“i know, but, like... we haven’t said anything. there’s been no official label. it’s like... unofficially official.”
jay stared. “sunghoon. you watched her floss her teeth while you sat on the counter eating cereal and telling her she looked cute. it’s not unofficial.”
“yeah, but what if she thinks it’s too soon?”
“too soon for what? be so fucking for real, bro.”
sunghoon groaned and flopped backwards onto the floor. “i can’t just casually be like ‘hey do you wanna be my girlfriend’ while we’re ordering chicken nuggets or something.”
“why not?”
“because this is the most important relationship of my life and i want it to sound like i’m not twelve.”
jay, full of support and zero delicacy, said, “then don’t say it while you’re ordering chicken nuggets.”
sunghoon glared at the ceiling. “useless.”
still, he spent the next few days trying to figure it out. he made a mental list of possible locations. cafes were too noisy. your apartment was too... your apartment. the bar had too many witnesses. he considered writing it down. he considered saying it in a whisper and pretending it slipped out. he considered doing nothing and just dying instead.
then it happened on a wednesday. you were walking out of a little local bookstore you dragged him into, laughing at something he said, your hand linked with his like it belonged there. the woman behind the counter, older, smiley, had said, “you two are cute. your boyfriend’s so patient.”
you laughed, still flipping through the book you bought. “i know, right?”
you didn’t correct her. you did not correct her. sunghoon short-circuited for a solid five seconds. he tried to keep walking like a normal person, but his grip on your hand got a little tighter, and his brain was already in full meltdown mode.
boyfriend. she said boyfriend. and you didn’t say oh no, we’re not dating, or oh, we’re just hanging out, or he just follows me around like a sad dog. you agreed, you claimed him. it counts. it totally counts.
he waited a whole five minutes before blurting out, “so. about that boyfriend comment.”
you glanced up. “what about it?”
“you didn’t, like... correct her.”
you tilted your head. “should i have?”
he blinked. “i mean... no. no, not if you didn’t want to.”
“i didn’t,” you said simply.
sunghoon’s brain made a sound like dial-up internet for a second. he swallowed. “cool. yeah. just checking.”
you stopped walking and looked at him. “wait. is that— were you trying to ask me something just now?”
“what? no.” he paused. “yes. maybe.”
you smiled. “sunghoon.”
“okay, yes. yes,” he said, running a hand through his hair and suddenly regretting everything he’d ever said to jay. “i’ve been trying to ask you if you wanted to be my girlfriend for, like, ten business days. but i kept spiraling. and then you didn’t correct that lady and i had a full-body reaction.”
you laughed, leaning into him slightly. “you could’ve just asked me.”
“i know, but i like you so much that my brain stopped working and i didn’t want to mess it up.”
“you think calling me your ‘favorite thing in the world’ before asking me to date you wasn’t already kind of intense?”
“i blacked out that night. i don’t remember saying that.”
“you did.”
“okay. good. just making sure i’m consistent.”
you leaned in and kissed his cheek, still smiling. “sunghoon, obviously i want to be your girlfriend.”
he blinked. “really?”
“yes.”
he hesitated, eyes narrowing like he’d just remembered something haunting. “even after finding out that i was your sworn enemy on pokémon go for, like, four months?”
you started laughing immediately. “you mean when you admitted you were shadyhoon420, the gremlin who stole my gym every tuesday at 3 a.m.?”
“i was fighting for my honor,” he said, dead serious.
you grinned. “and now we’re dating. weird plot twist.”
he smiled, a little crooked. “great plot twist.”
you squeezed his hand again, leaned your head on his shoulder as you walked, and said, “don’t worry, boyfriend. i forgive your crimes.”
sunghoon was never recovering from being called “boyfriend” out loud. he almost tripped on the sidewalk. he grinned, slightly dazed, like someone who just won the lottery but doesn’t know where to cash it in. you grabbed his hand again and kept walking, like it was already decided. and honestly, it kind of was.
you ended up at his place that night. neither of you really said it out loud, but that was kind of the routine now. he still pretended he needed to “grab something” from his apartment just to have an excuse to follow you around his kitchen while you made popcorn. you still pretended to ask if you were staying over when you both knew your toothbrush had lived there for two weeks. he let you steal his hoodie again. you let him kiss you every time he walked past you, which was often, because he kept “forgetting things” in the living room. at some point you both crashed on the couch with your legs over his and his head resting against yours, some episode of how i met your mother playing in the background.
he was barely listening. you weren’t either. it was just there, familiar and comfortable. then, somewhere between the episode where ted steals the blue french horn and barney pretending to have a fake job at a bank, you turned to him and said, “you know what the best part of this is?”
“the popcorn?”
“okay, second best.”
“me?”
“third best.”
he laughed, nudged your knee with his. “okay, what’s the best part?”
you turned to face him fully, your chin resting on your hand now, your expression weirdly serious but also like you were holding back a laugh. “one day,” you said, “i’m gonna tell our kids this whole story. the gyms. the snacks. the pokémon betrayal. all of it.”
he blinked. “kids?”
“future,” you added quickly. “far future. relax. no one’s getting pregnant during a rerun of season three.”
“okay. just making sure.”
you grinned. “and when i tell them, i’m gonna look them in the eyes and say: and that, kids, is how i met sunghoon.”
he stared at you, then he burst out laughing, then he kissed you. and when he pulled back, smiling like he couldn’t help it, hoodie half falling off your shoulder, popcorn completely forgotten on the floor, he said, “you’re so annoying.”
you leaned into his side. “you’re obsessed with me.”
he kissed your forehead. “yeah,” he said. “i really, really am.”
and that was that. no big speech. no sweeping declarations. no fireworks or dramatic music or anything you’d write into a script. just two slightly ridiculous people, curled up on a too-small couch, limbs tangled in the kind of way that only happens when you’ve stopped pretending to need personal space, one of them wearing a hoodie that never belonged to them in the first place, both of them halfway through a rewatch of a sitcom about love and fate and timing, while very quietly, and maybe without fully realizing it, living proof of all those things was sitting right there beside them.
and that, kids… is how you met sunghoon.
author’s note: okayyyyy i wrote this as a little gift for my best friend aka my sister, and it’s actually the first time i’ve written for sunghoon since nicest guy (which feels kinda wild) andddd i’ve always loved how i met your mother!!! my fav show everrrr nd i wanted to write something that felt like that yk just full of funny warm happy momentssssss nothing too heavy, just soft and slow-burn feelings hehe i hope you enjoyed it as much as i loved writing it ♡
𝜗𝜚 welcome to the dream fraternity! seven dreamy boys, seven absolutely cheesy love stories where you’re the main character! warning: you might hate yourself during the process…but what’s love without a little chaos?
contains 18+ content
I. STUPID CUPID
pairing: fuckboy! na jaemin x secret identity! reader
synopsis -> mr. cupid — anonymous radio host. running the #1 most popular radio show on campus. famous for his thoughtful advice and classified as a true hopeless romantic. na jaemin — photography major, the sweet fuck-boy. described to be affectionate and gentle…but don’t fall for his tactics! once he’s done with you, he’s gone with the wind. your best friend unfortunately happened to be on the receiving end of this. what happens when you find out that the anonymous radio host is none other than na jaemin himself? sweet revenge.
𝜗𝜚
II. FLYING KISS
pairing: childhood best friend! lee jeno x nerd! reader
synopsis -> you and lee jeno go way back, as in diapers and all that. before he was known as the chill fuckboy, he was an all time nerd! just like you! tired of being a loser who can’t even get the guy you wanted, you badly needed tips and a makeover. who’s better to ask for help than your childhood best friend, who has proven that a nerd can be sexy?
𝜗𝜚
III. SORRY, HEART
pairing: friends with benefits! mark lee x tutor! reader
synopsis -> sex helps him focus. focus he needs for your tutoring sessions. it was a win-win for mark lee when you proposed to add a stress-relief session to the schedule. the favorite fuckboy and the girl who doesn’t believe in love equals the ultimate friends with benefits set-up. it’s the perfect dream team! but uh oh…it seems like mark has been shot by cupid’s arrow. will mark survive all of your attempts at pushing him away?
𝜗𝜚
IV. IRREPLACEABLE
pairing: enemy! lee haechan x ex bff! reader
synopsis -> lee haechan, theatre major, absolutely hated your guts. you felt the same exact way. the only girl in this whole university that hasn’t fallen for the most popular fuckboy’s charms. which is why it sucks that you have both landed the main roles in the theater’s upcoming play, romeo and juliet. what was that saying about love and hate being a thin line?
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V. MY FIRST AND LAST
pairing: bff! zhong chenle x fake gf! reader
synopsis -> zhong chenle, the lowkey fuckboy, captain of the basketball team, doesn’t believe in romance. flowers? chocolates? handwritten letters? ew. too cheesy. but he can’t seem to shake this crazy girl off of him so he goes to you, his best friend, cheerleading captain, for help. will you be his fake girlfriend? sure. the catch? it has to be believable so for the first time in his life he buys the flowers and the chocolate and writes the handwritten letters.
𝜗𝜚
VI. BREATHING
pairing: fuckboy! jisung x convenient gf! reader
synopsis -> park jisung has sworn off love after being cheated on. he’s been doing a really great job breaking hearts and not looking back. the boys are worried that they’ve taken fuckboy101 too seriously and have now created the ultimate fuckboy. this conversation was heard by your group of friends who never backs away from a challenge. and so the bets are on: get the ultimate fuckboy to fall in love with you and you’ll get $125 from each friend. deal?
𝜗𝜚
VII. I HATE FRUITS [NEW]
pairing: fake bf! renjun x best friend’s gf! reader
synopsis -> huang renjun, the fuckboy by association, couldn’t care less about romantic relationships. he’s perfectly fine with being single — prefers it, actually. when he accidentally drops a box on your head and you wake up with temporary amnesia, he’s forced to finally take care of a person other than his own self. what’s worse? you think he’s your boyfriend.
authors note: this is a work of fiction only and should not be taken seriously. the way the dream boys are portrayed in these stories are obviously not a representation of who they are in real life. thank you and have fun reading!
⏦ﾟ♡︎ likes, reblogs and comments are not required but is very appreciated ⏦ﾟ♡︎
if you enjoyed this series and would like to show extra love and support, my ko-fi is open <3
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