hai everyone !! me and @virtualfangs333 wanted to do a little post to spread awarness on a problem we just witnessed on tiktok!! some of u who have tiktok might know that there is a new moodboard community here, little problem : some of them seem to use mbs from our tumblr community w/o credit!
i present u 3 copied mbs in 1 tiktok ( this is in no way a hate post on the tiktok user, we already solved the credit problem w her)
i honestly do know what to do but call out tiktok users doing that but anyways be careful !! all moodboards creator here spend a little of their time to craft beautiful aes for the pleasure of the eyes, it shouldnt be copied!
You’d always been known for it — soft, floppy bunny ears, sweet little nose, and a cunt so hungry it could never be filled. Your kind were bred for stamina, for endless, ravenous need, always wet, always ready, always wanting more. And Jake? Sweet, dumb, perfect puppy Jake, adopted right alongside you, big soft brown eyes, fluffy ears that twitch at every sound, and a brain that’s basically empty except for one single thought: please use me.
He’s sweet, innocent, barely understands anything outside of pleasure and pleasing you, and his libido is high too — but nothing, absolutely nothing, compares to yours. You could go for hours, days even, and he’s already spent three huge loads today, his body sore and sensitive, cock swollen and throbbing, but still hard for you like it’s the only thing he knows how to do.
Right now he’s flat on his back on the thick fur rug, arms loose above his head like he knows he doesn’t need to hold anything, because you’ll take whatever you want anyway. His cheeks are flushed bright red, chest heaving fast, drool already dripping thick and clear from his parted lips, eyes glassy and unfocused, like his brain already short‑circuited hours ago. His cock is thick and heavy, standing tall and proud, leaking so much pre‑cum it’s dripping down his length and pooling on his lower stomach, his balls hanging low and full, heavy with every drop he has left to give.
“Poor puppy,” you coo, stepping between his spread legs, fingers dragging slow and rough up his inner thighs, making him jolt and whine high in his throat. “You’ve already cum three times today, haven’t you? And you’re still this hard for me? You really are just a dumb little cum dump, aren’t you?”
He nods so fast his ears flop all over his face, tongue lolling out, voice wobbly and breathless. “Y‑yes… bunny… m’your dumb puppy… only yours…”
You smirk, grabbing your tits and squeezing them together right in front of his face, making his eyes go wide and cross. “Good. Because I’m not even close to done with you.”
You line your dripping pussy up, so wet it’s practically running down your thighs, and sink down all the way in one smooth, rough motion, taking every thick, throbbing inch of him deep inside you until your ass hits his balls. Jake’s whole body jerks so hard his heels dig into the rug, a loud, broken scream tearing out of him, hands curling into fists so tight his knuckles turn white. “F‑FUCK — s‑so tight — s‑so wet — hurts so good — oh god —”
You don’t let him adjust for even a second. You start bouncing immediately — hard, fast, brutal, your knees digging into the floor, hands gripping his shoulders tight enough to leave deep bruises, lifting yourself almost all the way up then slamming back down so hard the whole room shakes. You grind your hips deep every time you drop, squeezing your walls tight around him, dragging every ridge and vein against your sensitive spots, making him see stars.
His head falls back, ears flattened completely, eyes rolling back until only white shows, drool pouring down his neck and onto his chest. His legs are shaking so bad they’re practically vibrating, toes curling tight, every muscle pulled taut like he’s about to snap. He’s so over‑stimulated he can barely think, can barely breathe — all he can feel is you, wrapped around him, using him, owning every inch of him.
“S‑STOP —!” he suddenly cries out, voice high and shaky, hips twitching weakly like he’s trying to push you off — but he’s not, he can’t, he doesn’t really want to. “B‑bunny — too much — c‑can’t — it’s too much — please — s‑stop —!”
You just laugh, loud and cruel, and bounce even harder, slamming down so hard you can feel him hit your cervix every single time. You lean forward, pushing your tits right into his face, letting them bounce and slap against his cheeks and mouth, soft and heavy, making him inhale your scent deep. “Oh yeah? You want me to stop? You really want me to stop using your fat cock like this? You want me to leave you hard and empty and needy?”
You slow down just a little, grinding slow and deep, twisting your hips so it hurts so good, and his eyes go wide, panic and desperation flooding his face. He shakes his head so fast it hurts, grabbing your hips with weak, trembling hands but not pulling you off — just holding you tighter. “N‑NO —! N‑no please — don’t stop — I lied — please keep going — use me as much as you want — I can take it — I promise — please —”
“Thought so,” you purr, and pick up that brutal pace again, tits bouncing wildly right in his face, making him lick and suck at them like the desperate little thing he is. “You love it too much to ever let me stop. You’d let me drain you dry until you pass out, wouldn’t you? Dumb puppy.”
He whimpers around your nipple, drooling all over your skin, cock throbbing harder inside you, already swelling up again. “Mmm — yes — yes bunny — anything — everything —”
You keep going, faster and harder, your own moans loud and shameless, echoing off the walls. You can feel him getting close, his whole body locking up, breath coming in short, sharp gasps, cock pulsing violently deep inside you. You don’t let up — you grind your clit right against his base, squeezing him so tight it’s almost painful, riding him like you’re trying to break him.
“Go on then,” you taunt, voice breathless and filthy, bouncing so hard your ass slaps against his thighs loud and wet. “Cum for me again. Fill this pussy up. I know you have another bucket in you. Give it all to me, puppy — every last drop.”
And he does.
With a loud, broken scream of your name, Jake arches his back so hard his shoulders lift completely off the floor, every muscle seizing up tight. He cums so hard he’s practically convulsing, thick, hot ropes of cum flooding into you — so much it’s ridiculous, endless wave after wave, pumping so deep it feels like it’s filling your stomach, spilling out around his cock and running down his length, dripping onto his balls and pooling in a huge mess under you. He just keeps cumming, whimpering and drooling, eyes rolling back, completely gone, floating somewhere high above his body, totally used up and happy about it.
You don’t stop. Not even when he’s twitching through the aftershocks, not even when his cock is so sensitive it hurts just to touch, not even when he’s sobbing soft little cries of over‑stimulation. You keep bouncing slow and deep, grinding every drop he just gave you right back into him, squeezing him tight, making him take every bit of it.
“Look at all this,” you murmur, leaning down to kiss his wet, drooly mouth, your hips still rolling heavy. “You make such a mess for me. Such a good, greedy puppy. Four times now, and you still have more, don’t you?”
He blinks up at you, dazed and dumb, ears twitching, cock still hard and throbbing inside you like it never wants to leave. “Mmm… m‑more… please… bunny… more…”
You smile, shifting your weight so you can grind even deeper, tits bouncing right in his face again, and you already know you’ll be here for hours more. He’ll be right here, drooling, shaking, screaming for you to stop then begging you not to, giving you bucket after bucket of his cum until he’s completely empty — and he’ll love every second of it.
𓊆박성훈 x fem reader𓊇 hold me, kiss me. whisper sweetly that you love me forever. hold me, kiss me. whisper sweetly that you love me forever. hold me, kiss me. whisper sweetly that you love me forever.
part one of two
⤫ 28253 ⤫ ― based & inspired on the movie: obsession (2026), heavily major spoiler alert: warnings, style, plot. ― gore, body horror, psychological horror, incel horror, cannibalistic themes, supernatural obsession, graphic violence, self-harm + mentioned of razor on wrist, suicide, toxic co-dependency, coercive control, drugs & alcohol use, smut, technically sex with a demon, blood, mentions of cuts, animal death (cat), profanity, mental health themes, dubcon, noncon sexual content, missionary, cowgirl, blowjob, please let me know if i've missed any!
⊹ 𐙚⋆˙˚ oh my gosh... i meant to do this in 15k but i accidentally doubled the amount haha... omg enjoy... :"( i hope it's not as shit as i think it is ajneabse i've proofread this like ONCE. p/s: i love this movie so fucking much it's sickening and unhealthy... please don't forget to leave your comments, thoughts, and inboxes :(( it makes me so happy!!!
the midnight spoon.
“i like you,” sunghoon started, voice low and careful, “and i want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“you’re the only person i feel like i can talk to about anything… the only person i’ve felt this way about. it sounds stupid but i think about you all the time—even when i’m trying not to. it’s like you’re always on my mind.”
“you’re sweet and you’re kind, and i don’t know anyone who loves animals and cooking and books like you do. i know this might be weird to hear but… i like you, yn. like, more than anyone else, ever.”
“uh… uh huh.”
sunghoon pushed on, gaining confidence after that little push. he cleared his throat, eyes fixed on the female in front of him.
“my heart flutters every time you walk into the room, and every word you confide in me—”
“nope. stop.” jake cut him off, waving his spoon like a referee. “dude, nah. what are you? you’re not 72, you’re only 23!”
sunghoon groaned loudly, covering his face with both hands, elbows planted on the table. his dark hair fell forward as he slumped. “then how am i supposed to say it?” he mumbled through his fingers, voice muffled and frustrated.
jake leaned forward on the chair, grinning. oh, his poor little bestfriend. he turned to the poor waitress, who was holding the pot of water as she refilled sunghoon’s cup for the fifth time of the night.
“alright, be honest,” jake asked her, tilting his head. “would you accept his confession?”
the waitress blinked, cheeks tinting ping. she shifted on her seat, chuckling softly. “uh… um… well, it’s a bit too… much? like, too fast?” she gave a nervous little laugh. “i mean, that was really sweet! a little gross, but so sweet!”
jake clapped his hands in victory. “exactly. thank you.” he flashed her his charming smile. the waitress smiled back, scooting to leave the banquette chair. “also, can i get a cup of coffee? thank you.”
“sure,” she nodded quickly. before leaving, she glanced at sunghoon, whose head was still slumped against his palms. her voice softened a little. “and don’t worry too much about it. girls are simpler than you think. it’ll go well.”
sunghoon just muttered a soft, weak “thanks…” without lifting his head.
once she disappeared toward the counter, jake stood up, swung the single chair back to its original spot and slid back into the booth across from sunghoon. he stretched his arms along the back of the seat, sighing.
they’d been practicing for the past hour straight, and it honestly wasn’t looking too good for sunghoon. every attempt came out either painfully stiff and awkward or overly dramatic—like it was so obviously scripted and rehearsed.
the fluorescent lights of the diner above them flicked once, casting a brief shadow over sunghoon’s flushed face. he couldn’t believe they just stole away a waitress, her time, and made her the victim of his endless confessions.
jake watched him for a second, the grin faded into something more to sympathy. he leaned forward, arms on the table now.
sunghoon finally dropped his hands, thoroughly defeated. “i’m never doing this again.”
“you’re overthinking it.” jake said, voice lower than before. “yn isn’t the type who wants fireworks and bouquet of roses. she literally laughs at the smallest things in the world and more than anything, she’d value your honesty and sincerity more than these… superficial things.” he tapped the table twice for emphasis.
“just be honest and direct. tell her how you actually feel when you see her. that’s it.”
sunghoon finally lifted his head, dragging a hand through his dark hair. his jaw clenched, dark brown eyes tired under the warm lighting. “i know that,” he muttered, sighing. “but every time i think about actually saying it to her… my brain just goes blank, man.”
“what if i ruin it? everything? we’ve been friends for some time now—i can’t just fuck it we ball. what if she doesn’t feel the same and it gets weird?”
jake shrugged, stealing a fry from sunghoon’s forgotten, unfinished plate. “then it gets weird for a bit. but at least you’ll know how it actually goes if you do confess.” he pointed a fry at his friend.
“and besides, you know how she is. she’s not going to throw a friendship over some temporary feelings. she’s more mature despite her looks.”
sunghoon didn’t answer right away. he stared at his glass instead, watching droplets of condensation slide down the glass. the thought of you made his chest ache in that terrifying way of rejection.
he could already picture it.
your soft voice saying no, the same voice that sunghoon loved hearing more than the sound of his band’s songs. the way your fingers would probably hold his’, telling him how sorry you are, the same fingers that strummed his guitar. how you’d look turning him down—no longer the peaceful look you always have on your face.
ugh, fuck. you’d probably look awkward, guilty, and pity him. looking pathetic in front of you was the last thing sunghoon ever wanted.
and the thing was—sunghoon’s feelings, he’s sure it’s not just temporary. they weren’t just a passing crush like how the other boys had for their crushes. this feeling settled deep in his chest and it only grew stronger every single day.
“i don’t know,” he finally said, voice low. his fingers messed with his hair again, tugging at the strands in frustration.
“ah, fuck it,” sunghoon muttered under his breath, tipping his head back before his shoulders slumped. “i’ll just… shit, i won’t do it.”
jake’s eyebrows shot up. “hey, don’t be like that. what gives?”
sunghoon shook his head, refusing to meet his best friend’s eyes. he slumped back against the seat. “nah, i don’t want to hear it when she says no.”
there it was—the insecurity he kept locked away that’s slipping out in his tone. sunghoon wasn’t the type to say it out loud often, but tonight it sat right on the surface. jake knew this too well.
jake leaned forward a little more, frowning in confusion. it wasn’t going well, sure—but sunghoon looked determined enough just a few seconds ago. “you won’t know that unless you try.”
“nah, it’s fine, man,” sunghoon replied quickly, scoffing. he leaned back, arms crossed over his chest. pure body language sign that he didn’t want to have this conversation anymore. “i’ll just regret it.”
jake, still slightly frowning, watched him for a few seconds, then sighed. “alright… well, you do you.” he paused, tapping his fingers once on the table before adding, more seriously this time. “i’m just saying… it’s not like you have all the time in the world. you either take the risk, or lose the chance.”
the words landed like the moon between them. sunghoon didn’t reply. he only stared at his cold glass again. jake quietly sipped on his coffee, drumming his fingers against the table.
the diner went quiet.
——
when did it all start?
maybe it was the first time he ever saw you.
it was a few years back—a lazy, hot afternoon in jake’s dorm meant to study but turned into doing nothing. jake had been showing him old photos on his phone, scrolling through memories when sunghoon wasn’t even in.
then there you were, standing next to jake in one of the pictures, maybe fourteen, or younger than that. sunghoon couldn’t tell. but you were smiling brightly with messy hair and stained uniform. jake laughed and said something like, “that’s my childhood bestfriend, yn. she’s starting here this semester.”
sunghoon had only nodded at the time.
or maybe it started the day you stepped into their elective class—graphic web designing—half an hour late.
you’d missed the bus, hair—again—slightly messy from rushing across the campus, cheeks flushed and the collar of your blouse was slightly wet with sweat. the professor made you introduce yourself in front of the entire auditorium as “punishment”.
just like others, you were embarrassed. but a cute kind. the kind where sunghoon was glad the bus ran late because he got to see you this way.
or maybe the night his band performed at the campus music festival.
the lights were blinding and the crowd was loud. but in the middle of one song, his vision had cleared for a split second and he saw you. standing near the front with jake, smiling and not singing cause you had no idea what you’d just dragged yourself into.
you’re an awkward girl, sunghoon could tell that. probably not as awkward as him, but definitely not as outgoing like the others in the crowd. when the set ended and you smiled up at the stage—not at the band or the performance, but specifically him when your eyes met—something within sunghoon shifted.
that was the moment he knew it wasn’t casual anymore.
HONK!
sunghoon startled, snapping back into reality as the sharp sound of a car horn cut through his thoughts. he was behind the wheel of his sedan, halfway home. the traffic light in front of him had turned green while he was lost in his head.
“gosh… jesus, calm down,” he muttered under his breath, cheeks warming with embarrassment even though he was alone. he quickly shifted gears, pressing the accelerator a little too hard before easing off.
his hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel. that spiral of memories left a strange tightness in his chest. the way you looked at him. not the lights, not his bandmates, not jake. just him.
he exhaled slowly, trying to shake the feeling off. driving usually helped him clear his head, but tonight, every red light felt like a warning.
you either take the risk, or lose the chance.
sunghoon bit the inside of his cheek. he wasn’t sure if he was ready to even risk it… but the longer he waited, the more he’s at a loss.
how was he supposed to say it then?
sunghoon tried practicing in his head again, muttering under his breath like an idiot.
“hey, yn… i’ve been wanting to tell you something for a while now…”
too casual. basic.
“i like you. a lot. more than a lot, actually—”
no. that sounded too desperate.
“if you don’t like me back, i don’t know what i’m gonna to myself.”
what the fuck was that? sunghoon cringed hard, gripping the wheel tighter. he’s not saying that to you.
every version felt wrong. too stiff. too awkward. too much. not enough.
damn. was this even the right thing to do?
you… you were so full of light. so whimsical and kind to everyone in a way sunghoon had never known before. smiling, laughing, giving pieces of yourself away so… so easily. sunghoon wanted that. he wanted all of it for himself.
but what if you didn’t feel the same? what if you only saw him as someone from your graphic class? as jake’s bestfriend?
he hated how that was possible. and how much power you had over him without even knowing it.
“... i just want her to look at me,” he muttered quietly, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. “is that too much to ask?”
the selfish want sat heavy in his chest, mixed with the familiar fear of rejection. sunghoon didn’t think about what his confession might do to you. the thought about what not having you was already consuming him too much.
——
“kibbles?” sunghoon called softly, voice echoing a little in the dim hallway. he kicked off his shoes by the entrance, setting it aside with his foot. “kibbles?”
huh. she’d usually come running. or at least meowed from her favourite spot on the windowsill where she liked to watch the car headlights. the sound of the door unlocked should already alert her that he was home.
but tonight there was nothing.
sunghoon frowned, sighing as he set his keys down on the console table. he made his way through to her usual spots first—the windowsill, none. the corner of the couch where she’d bundle in the blanket, none. on top of his speaker stack, not there too. under the dinner table, no sign of her.
“kibs, come on,” he muttered, a small thread of annoyance and worry creeping in as he walked further into the house. deciding to let her be for now, sunghoon went into his room and flipped on the bathroom light.
he froze.
there—kibbles was lying motionless on the cold tile floor near the sink, her small gray body curled unnaturally. a half–chewed blue-green pebble was sitting right in her slightly opened mouth. white, foamy drool trailed at the corner of her cat mouth.
insecticide bait pellets for the tiny ants he’d bought.
“shit…” sunghoon whispered, heart dropping.
he crouched down slowly, hand hovering over her without touching. she was already cold—must’ve been a while ago today while he was out the whole day. sunghoon glanced at the pellets he scattered around the floor.
he must’ve forgotten to throw the rest of those pellets out after he placed them. he’d meant to, really had. but between band practice, the constant thinking about you, work, assignments—it had slipped his mind.
“sorry, kibs,” he breathed, scratching the back of his neck, then ruffled through his messy hair.
what a shitty fucking day.
he crouched there on the bathroom floor for a long moment, just staring at her. she’d been with him since his first year—a low–maintenance companion who never asked for much, but always kept him together.
and now she was gone because he’d been careless about throwing those damn poison pellets out.
eventually, sunghoon stood up. he grabbed an old towel from the rack and gently wrapped her in it, carrying her out of the bathroom. she felt heavy and unnaturally stiff in his gentle grip. he placed her on the kitchen counter for a second while he looked for a bag.
once he found one, a paper bag, he carefully slid her inside and set the bag near the edge of the counter, meaning to deal with it properly later. to bury her outside, or something.
but his phone suddenly rang, cutting through the silence of the house.
he pulled it out of his pocket.
haewon.
“hey,” sunghoon answered, voice tired and weary.
“hey, are you and jake okay?” haewon asked without much greeting. it’s always been like that anyway. she sounded like she was walking somewhere, keys jingling in the background.
“yeah, why?”
“dunno… he just looked kinda bummed when he came home. you okay?”
sunghoon let out a long breath, leaning against the counter. his eyes drifted to the plastic bag holding kibbles.
“not really,” he admitted quietly. “kibbles died.”
there was a soft gasp, then followed with a short pause on the other end.
“oh gosh…” haewon muttered, her breath hitched in her lungs. “sunghoon, i’m sorry… what happened?”
“she just… she ate something bad,” he said, the words coming out carefully. he didn’t mention the insecticide pellets. didn’t mention he’d forgotten to throw them out days ago. it happened.
“i found her in the bathroom earlier.”
he left it at that—vague, but enough. people didn’t need to know about details. part of him felt kinda guilty for not telling the full truth, but another part of him just didn’t want to hear the judgement in her voice. or worse, the pity.
haewon sighed softly on the line. “that’s awful… i know how much you loved her. do you need anything? want me to come over or bring you food or—?”
“nah, it’s fine,” sunghoon replied, rubbing his temple. “i’ll deal with it. thanks though.”
“oh—alright, just let me know if anything, okay?”
“sure.”
the call didn’t last much longer. after a few more gentle words from haewon, he hung up and set the phone down.
sunghoon stood there in silence for a moment, staring at the paper bag. he then glanced at the clock on the wall—it was almost 2. too late to deal with this properly. he’d handle it tomorrow. whatever people did in these situations.
with a tired sigh, he picked up the bag and carried it over to the kitchen trash bin. sunghoon hesitated for half a second—he didn’t want to throw her out, of course; but he didn’t want to have a dead cat lying on the counter.
so he dropped it inside.
the soft thud it made when it hit the rest of the trash felt heavier than it should have.
sunghoon didn’t want to think about it anymore tonight. what would change?
he turned off the lights, dragging himself to his bedroom, changed to his shorts before collapsing onto the bed. he closed his eyes, hoping sleep would come fast.
what a shitty fucking day.
——
“hah—ngh—?”
you were underneath him.
a broken sound escaped your throat as pleasure coiled tight in your tummy. you were spread out on his bed, legs wrapped around his waist as he moved deep inside you in slow, rolling thrusts.
missionary. intimate. close.
“shit, yn…” sunghoon groaned, his fingers digging into the fat of your hips. you felt impossibly warm and tight around him. like a fucking vice. your hands were gripping his back, pretty little manicured nails digging into his skin every time he sank in fully.
he leaned to kiss you hard, tongue sliding against yours, swallowing every little gasp and whimper that left your lips. your bodies were slick with sweat and saliva and cum—skin sliding together with every movement like oil on oil.
sunghoon pulled back just enough to look at your face—flushed, eyes hazy and teary and blurry with pleasure, lips parted with your lipstick smudged across your lips and his’. so fucking pretty. fuck—the way your tits bounced back and forth every single time he rammed into you.
that made him thrust harder, deeper, grinding against that spot that instantly made your back arch off the bed. your eyes rolled back into your head, and you gasped so aloud it made sunghoon’s hair stand up.
your head tilted back, nails digging into sunghoon’s back.
“ahh—fuck! right there!”
your voice was wrecked, desperate, and so fucking sweet. you clung to him tighter like a lifeline, arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, hips rolling up eagerly to meet every thrust. your tight walls fluttered and clenched around his cock, pulling him deeper with every desperate movement.
sunghoon groaned against your neck, kissing and biting the sensitive skin as he picked up his pace. he fucked you harder, grinding against up the pace. he fucked you harder, grinding against that perfect, gummy spot inside you with every stroke. the way your body responded—arching, trembling, soaking his length—drove him insane.
“you’re so tight, ugh shit—feels s’good.” he moaned, capturing your lips in a messy, heated kiss, swallowing your moans as he drove into you again and again. your breasts pressed against his chest, nipples hard from arousal. one of his hands slid down to grip your thigh, spreading you wider so he could bury himself even deeper.
you moaned louder into his mouth, nails raking so hard and deep it left angry, red marks down his canvas of a skin. your hips kept rolling up like you couldn’t get enough. “g—gonna cum, i’m gonna cum—!”
so wet. so tight. so perfect.
sunghoon wanted to stay buried inside you forever.
“yeah—? oh jesus,” he grunted, nudging your head up to expose more of your neck so he could press his hot lips to your jugular. he kissed the spot first—soft and open–mouthed—before sucking hard on that soft spot, tongue dragging over your pulsing vein as he continued thrusting into you with deep strokes.
the wet, filthy sound of his hips meeting yours filled the room.
he pulled back just enough to look at your pretty flushed face, eyes clouded with lust.
“i love you,” he whispered hoarsely against your lips. “do you love me?”
your eyes slowly fluttered open. you looked up at him with that soft, hazy expression he loved so much. your fingers brushed his messy, damp hair away from his forehead tenderly, then you smiled—sweet and warm and honey dripped.
and then you whispered back,
“i love you, jaeyun.”
what—?
sunghoon woke up with a violent jolt, gasping sharply as he sat up in bed.
his heart was racing so fast, skin covered in a thin layer of sweat, and his cock—his cock was painfully hard, straining against his boxes. the dream still clung to him, the heat of your body, the way you moaned, the way your tight pussy tightened and clenched around him felt so real.
but those last words hit him like ice water.
jaeyun.
sunghoon sat there in the dark of his room, chest heaving, staring at his own reflection on the wall in front of him. the name echoed in his head, twisting something ugly and sharp in his stomach.
he ran a shaky hand through his hair, trying to calm his breathing.
it was just a dream. just a stupid fucking dream that felt so, so, so fucking real.
just a dream. shit.
he let out a heavy sigh and glanced down. the front of his boxers was visibly wet and sticky, soaked through from how hard he’d cum during the dream. at the age of 23. he cursed under his breath and pulled the blanket off his lap.
then he finally looked at the clock on his nightstand.
16:53
“damn…” sunghoon muttered, rubbing his face. he had slept through the entire morning and most of the afternoon. he’d missed practice—but thank god the rental store was closed for the day.
RING—!
his phone suddenly rang, vibrating loudly on the nightstand. sunghoon reached over to grab it—the screen lit up with jake’s name.
he stared at it for a long second before picking up, his voice coming out rough and slightly annoyed when he was reminded of the dream.
“what?”
“whoa, damn,” jake laughed on the other end. easy. “did i wake you up or something? you sound like shit.”
sunghoon leaned back against the headboard, running his fingers through his hair again. “uh—yeah, sorry. long night. what do you want?” sunghoon cleared his throat, sounding less… irritated.
jake didn’t seem fazed. “band night at the hollow tonight. a couple of the guys from fine arts are playing. thought you might wanna come through. you in?”
sunghoon hummed, leaning his head back, staring at the ceiling. kibbles’ death and the dream was still clinging to him like sweat.
“uh… no, i don’t think so actually.”
there was a short pause.
“you are?” jake asked, both teasing and concerned lilt slipping into his voice. he wondered if sunghoon was still annoyed and bummed from last night’s conversation. “yn will be there.”
sunghoon’s grip tightened slightly on the phone. the mention of your name sent a mix of heat and unease through his chest. it’s nice if you were there—it’d been a minute since sunghoon last saw you. he figured he could…
kibbles.
his heart ached.
“uhm… yeah, no. i don’t know, maybe not,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes. “something came up.”
jake hummed, not buying it. haewon must’ve not told him yet about kibbles. “something came up, huh? you’ve been weird since last night, man. are you good?”
“i’m fine,” sunghoon replied a little too quickly. “just… ‘m just not in the mood tonight. tell haewon and yn i said hi though.”
a beat.
“...alright, sure.” jake didn’t push further, but his tone made it obvious he was suspicious and slightly disappointed. “but if you ever change your mind, we’ll be there from like, 8–ish. don’t rot in your room all night, hoon.”
“yeah, and i won’t—later, jake.”
sunghoon hung up and tossed his phone onto the bed beside him. he sat there in silence for a while, the wet spot on his boxers now cold and uncomfortable.
he glanced at the clock again—it’s a little past 5pm. knowing jake and haewon, they were probably going to drag you out to eat first before heading to the bar for the night. the thought made his tummy twist.
it’s so… bad.
sunghoon hated how easily jealousy sat in his chest now. hated how vivid that dream still felt. hated that even after everything, the first name that left your lips in his fantasy wasn’t his.
with a heavy sigh, sunghoon forced himself up and out of bed. he stripped off his boxers, tossed them into the laundry basket, and headed to the bathroom. the shower water was hot when he stepped under it, steam quickly filling the small space.
he closed his eyes, letting the water run down his face.
it’s because you and jake were childhood friends.
that had to be it. that closeness from time. the inside jokes. the way you finished each other’s sentences and food. the way jake could casually throw his arm around your shoulder and you’d just laugh it off, not tensing up.
the two of you had years of platonic history. sunghoon had… what? a few months—a year, at least—of stolen glances, late–night study sessions, occasional group hangouts, and bar nights where he always ended up sitting near you but never close enough.
the four of you even worked together at the old movie rental store off campus. that was how he got to see you more often—organising shelves together, sharing lunch times together, the chats when the store was empty. those shifts were everything to him.
sunghoon pressed his forehead to the cool tile, jaw tight.
he wanted more than that, though.
the water kept falling, but it did nothing to wash away the ugly twist in his chest.
——
after his shower, sunghoon stripped the messy sheets off his bed to replace them with fresh ones, trying to keep his hands busy, mind occupied. he was smoothing out the comforter when his phone started ringing again.
gosh. endless calls.
but this time, the screen lit up with your name.
yn ♡
sunghoon’s heart jumped, and he nearly let go of the pillow he was puffing up. he cleared his throat a couple of times, quickly running his still–damp hair to compose himself before swiping to answer.
“hi, yn,” he said, trying to sound casual even though his voice came out a little lower than usual.
“hi, sunghoon,” your voice came through the line, soft and warm like always. like you. “are you coming to the band night at the hollow later?”
sunghoon sat on the edge of his freshly made bed, fingers gripping the phone a little tighter. he sucked the inside of his cheek before replying, “uh… maybe not. i don’t know yet,” he answered, hesitating. did you call him just to ask if he was going? did jake put you in on this?
“are you?”
a short second paused before you answered.
“yeah, i am,” you hummed. “one of my girls is performing with her band tonight, so i have to show up,” you continued with a small laugh. there was another short pause before you added,
“it’d be nice to have you there, though. i’ve got something to tell you.”
sunghoon’s tummy flipped. his heart jumped, and the words got stuck in his throat.
“really?” his voice softened, a grin plastered on his face. “what is it?”
you let out a soft giggle. “haha, you’ve got to come then if you want to know.”
he couldn’t help the smile that rugged at his lips. canines digging down the flesh of his lower lip, sunghoon fumbled with his pants’ drawstrings.
“hmm… we’ll see.”
there was another brief pause. then, you continued, tone shifting to something more casual but sincere. “oh, also… i wanna let you know that i’ve put in my two weeks at the store. i wanna focus on helping my mom with the family business we got going on.”
sunghoon’s smile faded. he hadn’t expected that. the only time he could see you for eight hours a day was when you shared a shift. but now, you were going? leaving him?
“oh… wow. that’s… that’s sudden.”
“yeah,” you replied quietly. “i’ll tell you more about it later if you come tonig—crap!”
there was a sudden clatter on your end, followed by shuffling sounds like you were moving around quickly.
sunghoon sat up straighter. “yn? are you okay?”
he heard a soft grunt on the other line, then your voice. “yeah, yeah—but ugh,” you muttered, crouching down. he could hear the faint echo of your voice like you were near a tiled floor or drain. “my gem fell!”
“your what?”
“my necklace,” you explained, voice a little strained and clearly frustrated. sunghoon heard more shuffling on your end, like you were trying to look for it down the drain. “my onyx, ugh. it’s for protection and i’m supposed to bury it—it just slipped off…”
sunghoon’s lips twitched despite everything. even in small, troubled moments like this, you were still so you.
just as he was about to drift back into that dangerous fantasy, your voice pulled him back. “—of all days! i already feel so crappy, gosh.”
there was a soft sigh on your end before you continued, “today’s been awful… anyway, i’ll see you tonight?”
sunghoon hesitated for half a second, then answered quietly, “sure. i’ll be there.”
your voice brightened, sunghoon could hear it. he bit back a smile. “really? okay, great. i’ll text you if anything changes. see you later, sunghoon.”
“mmhm. see you, yn.”
the call ended.
the promise of seeing you tonight—with the something you wanted to tell him—made his chest feel tight in a way that was both exciting and terrifying.
tonight could be the night that everything changes.
——
“welcome to crystal cove.”
sunghoon gave the girl behind the counter a small smile as he stepped inside the quirky little shop. the place smelled in incense and old wood, with soft ambient music playing in the background. he looked around slowly, taking in the shelves packed with crystals, tarots, and spiritual… weird trinkets.
the girl, who looked to be around his age with dyed purple hair, multiple piercings, barely looked up from her nails at first.
“if you need help with anything, let me know,” she said lazily, then went back to filing her nails.
sunghoon just nodded and wandered into the store, browsing quietly. after a couple of minutes, he cleared his throat. “uh, yeah… actually i do need help. do you have crystal or gem necklaces?”
the girl finally put down her nail file and walked out from behind the counter.
“yeah, let me show you.”
she led him to a small table that had a spinning display rack full of necklaces and pendants. different stones in shapes and colours hung neatly.
“this is all we have,” she said, giving the rack a little spin. “they all have their own energies and stuff, so yeah… take your pick.”
sunghoon leaned in slightly, scanning the many options. “wow, thanks…” he paused, then asked, “what’s one for… calmness, or something like that?”
the girl tilted her head, thinking for a second before picking out a necklace with a smooth, pale blue stone. “this one’s blue lace agate. pretty good for calmness and communication. helps with anxiety too, supposedly.”
sunghoon stared at it for a moment, then nodded before taking it from her hand. “okay, cool… thanks.”
“mmhm,” the girl replied with a small hum, already turning away to go back behind the counter. she picked up the nail file again.
sunghoon held the necklace for a few seconds, turning it over in his palm. huh… yn’s not gonna like this. it felt too generic. he quietly placed it back on the spinning rack.
just as he was about to walk away—get you another thing, bracelet, or something—something else caught his eye.
on the shelf right in front of him sat a small collection of boxes, tiny voodoo keychains, and other oddities. tucked between a "manifestation jar” and a pack of antique–degined tarot cards was an unassuming item labeled—
one wish willow.
the box was small and white, almost minimalist. on the front was a delicate illustration of a slender, weeping willow branch with a single growing orb at the tip. the text printed in a thin, elegant serif font:
grab your wish willow!
break with intention. one use only.
below that, in a smaller faded letting:
wishes do come true. be careful what you ask for.
the packaging looked old, like something you’d find in an actual vintage shop rather than a crystal store like this. sunghoon turned it around. on the back was a simple set of instructions printed in the same font:
spark the middle, break in half.
he stared at it for another few seconds.
huh… a wish. a small, crooked smile tugged at his lips.
“yn’s gonna like this.”
sunghoon grabbed the box without thinking twice and headed to the counter. the girl looked up from filing her nails again when he placed it down.
“no crystals?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
he shook his head, smiling. “this one’s better, i think,” he replied, shrugging.
she scanned the item with a bored expression. “oh right, sure. ‘cause you can make a wish. everyone wants a wish.” she said, her tone subtly sarcastic as she put the box in a small paper bag.
sunghoon let out an awkward laugh. “haha… yeah. it’s, um… it’s not for me.”
“right…” the girl glanced up at him, as she slid the bag towards him with a half-smile. “well, don’t come back complaining if it actually works.”
sunghoon raised an eyebrow. “oh, don’t worry, i won—wait, what do you mean? people complain about these?”
the girl leaned her elbows on the counter, looking mildly entertained for the first time she puts her file down. “well, they’re from the 70s, so most people buy them as collectibles. not really meant to be used. the ones who do use them… usually come back complaining.”
sunghoon let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “haha, why? ‘cause they make regretful wishes or something?”
the girl didn't laugh. she just looked at him for a beat too long.
“yeah. and then they wish they were dead.”
a heavy silence fell between them. the soft ambient music in the store suddenly went deafened.
sunghoon blinked, slightly taken aback. the girl didn’t bat her eyes away.
“... what?”
she held his gaze for another second before she suddenly cracked a smile and laughed lightly, waving her hand.
“well, that’d be 15000 won.”
the eerie tension vanished as quickly as it came. sunghoon blinked, letting out an awkward chuckle but still a little unsettled.
“ah, haha… um, here.” he handed her his card. she rang him up quickly, slipped the receipt into the bag. “you’re good at creeping people out.” he complimented her nervously.
the girl laughed, shrugging.
“enjoy your wish.”
when sunghoon walked off with his paperbag, he turned to look at the girl behind the counter.
she smiled very still, eerily.
wow, sunghoon thought, shaking his head. she needs a raise.
——
the hollow was loud but cozy, being a small bar after all. a local band warmed up on stage followed by low chatter of regulars. the four of you were seated at a round wooden table near the back: you, sunghoon, jake, and haewon.
“—so this guy at the volunteering site tried to flirt with me in the midst of cleaning up the chicken’s cage. mid–scooping he goes, ‘you have really pretty eyes.’”
jake bursted out laughing. “ew, that’s disgusting. what did you say?”
“i told him my eyes were only pretty when i wasn’t smelling shit,” haewon replied, laughing.
you were laughing too, leaning forward with your chin resting on your hand. “he sounds silly. did he keep trying?”
sunghoon smiled along, but honestly, he wasn’t really listening. his eyes kept going back and forth from you, then haewon, then back to you again. under the table, he kept nudging jake’s foot with his own.
jake finally glanced at him, mouthing, what?
sunghoon jerked his head subtly toward you, then gave jake a look that clearly said—leave us alone for a bit.
jake raised his eyebrows, now?, then glanced at haewon who was still mid–story and fully engaged.
haewon suddenly paused, catching the weird energy and the way they’ve been silent between the two boys. “what the hell are you guys doing?”
jake’s eyes widened then he chuckled, shaking his head. “nothing! nothing, nothing.”
nothing—was what he said, but jake’s foot nudged haewon’s underneath the table as well. she frowned, but was quick on catching it, haewon looked at sunghoon—then to you who looked a little confused, and a knowing little smirk appeared on her face.
“oh, oh, okay,” she said, clearing her throat and standing up, “well, i’m kinda thirsty so i’m gonna get more drinks. anyone want anything?”
you immediately started to stand too. “i’ll come with you!”
then sunghoon suddenly spoke up. “wait—no, i’ll go.”
everyone paused. haewon blinked at him, jake—who was mid–standing in his seat, ready to go with haewon—looked back and forth between you and sunghoon. “uh…”
“o—okay…” haewon murmured, slowly sitting back down. jake cleared his throat and plopped back into his chair as well. “alright, yn and sunghoon can go then. i just want a coke.”
you glanced at sunghoon, slightly surprised by the sudden switch–up when nobody wanted to go with haewon. still, you didn’t question it. “...sure,” you said with a small smile, gesturing toward the bar.
“let’s go, sunghoon.”
the bar area was nicely lit with string lights hanging overhead, accompanied with chatters and a band playing on stage in the background. you and sunghoon found a small open spot, slightly away from the main crowd.
you leaned forward slightly, catching the bartender’s attention with a small wave.
“hi—yeah, can i, uh, get two beers, one coke, and a strawberry soju spritzer, please?” you ordered, then added with a grateful smile once he nodded. “thanks a bunch.”
the bartender tapped on the terminal. “alright, that’ll be 38,500 won,” he said. “oh, and we only take cards, hun.”
you nodded quickly, smiling. “oh yup, sure sure,” you replied, already reaching for your wallet.
sunghoon instinctively moved to pull out his own card, but you were faster. your card beeped on the reader before he could do anything. “no, no, it’s fine!” you said, smiling. the machine beeped in approval.
“i got it.”
then, you gently pushed his hand back down with a soft laugh. sunghoon opened his mouth, then closed it again, a small smile forming despite himself.
“you didn’t have to do that.”
“i wanted to,” you replied simply, flashing him that smile he loved so much. “you can bring the drinks later.”
sunghoon smiled. as the bartender turned to make the drinks, you turned toward him, resting your elbows on the wooden counter. he felt his pulse pick up, and rubbed the back of his neck before speaking.
“so, uhm… any new movies you’ve been watching lately?”
your eyes lit up instantly—movie talk was always a safe, comfortable topic between the two of you, having worked in a rental store and all.
“oh yeah, actually…” you got comfy. “i watched undertone two nights ago. but don’t tell kim, okay? i promised her i’d rent it at the store first so it counts toward our numbers.”
sunghoon let out a genuine laugh, the sound low. the tension from earlier eased a bit. “you watched it without renting? that’s bold. kim’s gonna kill you if she finds out.”
“i know, i know,” you giggled, covering your mouth with one hand. “i felt so guilty the entire time, but i couldn’t wait. it was so good, sunghoon. the sound design’s absolutely crazy, oh my gosh. i don’t think i’ve ever been so scared without all the jumpscares, ghosts action, you know?”
sunghoon nodded, smiling. he placed the top of his chin on his palm. “i’ve been meaning to watch it. everyone’s been talking about the score. was it as creepy as the trailer made it seem?”
“oh—creepier.” you said, eyes widening for emphasis. sunghoon loved all the expressions your pretty face could do. “if you’re ever gonna watch it, don’t watch it alone—i kept thinking, ‘why am i watching this by myself?”
he smiled. you always got that spark in your eyes when you talked about films. the way your eyebrows lifted, the small scrunch of your nose. so animated. it was one of his favourite things about you.
“haha,” sunghoon chuckled. for a moment, he almost forgot everything else. forgot about the confession, the dream, kibbles. but then he remembered—you said you had something to tell him tonight.
“oh, yeah… about the thing you wanted to tell me—” he started, voice a little quieter.
before you could hum a reply of what he was saying, haewon suddenly appeared beside the two of you.
“playgirl’s playing! they’re starting their first song!” she said excitedly, already grabbing your arm. playgirl was one of your friend’s bands that was performing for the night.
“come on, we have to go back!”
your eyes widened slightly, quickly grabbing your phone on the counter. haewon gently pulled you away. “already?! wait—”
you turned your head toward sunghoon, giving him an apologetic but sweet smile.
“finish what you’re gonna say later!”
sunghoon nodded, trying to hide his disappointment, annoyance, and embarrassment. he clicked his tongue, drumming his fingers against the bar counter.
dang.
“yeah… later.”
——
the group walked out into the parking lot together, still laughing about something from earlier. your voices echoed between the parked cars under the glow of the streetlights.
suddenly, you stopped mid–step.
“oh, an orangey!” you said, eyes lighting up. a small stray tabby was lurking near one of the cars. without hesitation, you jogged towards it and crouched down, rummaging through your bag until you pulled out a small pack of dry cat food. you tore it open and carefully poured some onto a clean tissue you’d taken out, placing it on the ground.
the three of them slowed down and watched you.
haewon tilted her head, amused. it hadn’t been that long since she became friends with you. “does she always have cat food around?” she asked the two boys.
jake nodded with a grin. “mmhm. pretty much.”
a few moments later, you stood back up, brushing your hands together as the cat approached the food.
“sorry, what were we saying?” you asked, catching up to them again with an apologetic smile. obviously that small act of kindness towards the cat brightened you up, because you couldn’t contain the smile on your face.
haewon linked arms with you. “we’re going to karaoke! the night is still young~”
you let a tired groan, leaning your head on her shoulder for a second. “but i’m getting older~ ugh, i’d love to join but i’m just so sleepy…”
“awe, come on!” haewon whined, shaking your arm. “it’ll be fun! we haven’t done karaoke in forever.”
“i know, but…” you smiled tiredly, shaking your head. “nooo, seriously you guys, i’m kinda tired.”
jake chuckled. “you sure? you didn’t even drink a lot today.”
you turned to him with a pleading look. “but i do—jaeyun, please? i’m tired… i wanna go home.”
your childhood friend scratched the back of his neck. “my car is headed to the karaoke place though…”
you gave him your best puppy eyes, clasping your hands together like you’re praying. “please drop me off first?”
before jake could even respond, sunghoon stepped forward, unable to hide the quiet eagerness in his voice.
“i can take you home.”
you turned to sunghoon with a slightly surprised but grateful expression. “are you sure?”
“yup,” sunghoon nodded, trying to sound casual. “it’s uh… getting late for me too.”
haewon immediately pouted. “aw please, you never go to sleep right away anyway! who’s gonna play the bells while i sing, then?”
jake laughed, covering up haewon’s mouth. “i’m here, let them go home, already.”
you giggled, smiling softly at sunghoon. “thanks, sunghoon.”
the four of you exchanged quick goodbyes. sunghoon waved at jake and haewon—then jake pulled you into a hug. his arms wrapped around your waist.
“get home safe, okay?”
“mmhm, i will,” you murmured against his shoulder before pulling away.
sunghoon watched the hug a second longer than necessary, jaw tightening just slightly before he looked away.
——
the drive was quiet at first.
it wasn’t the first time sunghoon had ever driven you home, but every time he did—it always started quiet. like the two of you were giving yourselves some room to get comfortable. you sat in the passenger seat of his sedan, the streetlights casting patterns across your face.
in the smallness of the car, the alcohol had clearly hit you harder now. your movements were a little more abrupt, head occasionally leaning against the window as you stared off into the passing scenery and stores. your words started to slur just a tiny bit at the edges.
after a few minutes of silence, you turned your head toward him.
“oh, right… haewon told me about your cat,” you began, voice softer now, laced with sympathy. “i know it’s kinda iffy to hear it from someone else but… i just wanted to let you know i’m sorry about your cat.”
sunghoon’s hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel. he kept his eyes on the road.
“oh… no, no, it’s okay,” he replied quietly. “i mean… it’s not okay, but i don’t think it’s fully hit me yet.”
you nodded slowly, blinking a few times like you were trying to focus. you knew how much his cat meant to him—based on the amount of times he’s talked about it. “well… you can call me when it does. if you want. i’m here.”
sunghoon glanced at you for a brief second. even drunk and sleepy, you were still looking at him with that gentle care that always made his chest feel tight.
“i know,” he said, flashing you a soft smile. “thanks.”
the quiet hum of the engine filled the car again before sunghoon spoke again. “oh, i got you something… but only after you tell me what you wanted to say.”
your eyes widened and you turned to look at him. the mood in the car shifted slightly. “you bought me something? you shouldn’t have—wait, why am i kinda nervous?”
sunghoon chuckled awkwardly, his eyebrows’ slightly pinched in slight confusion. “i don’t know. why is that a reaction?”
you scoffed playfully, shaking your head. “um—anyway, it’s nothing really,” you said, voice slightly slurred. “just wanted to tell you i put my two weeks in.”
the boy glanced at you, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “you told me that on the phone though?”
you let out a small, awkward laugh and nodded, looking out the window for a second. “i know… i just wanted to say it again in person.”
sunghoon didn’t buy it. it was obvious on his face—the slight tightening in his jaw, the way his eyes narrowed just a fraction. there was something more—he knew it. felt it. but before he could press further, you said something.
“also… you know my friend sieun?” you turned to look at him, trying to sound casual. “what do you think of her?”
his grip on the steering wheel tightened a little. sieun? sieun park? your bestfriend? “...nothing? i don’t really talk to her aside from our rehearsal time. why?”
you smiled, humming. “well… what do you feel about her?”
sunghoon chuckled softly, glancing at you before his eyes drifted ahead. “you’re asking how i feel about her? like, if i like her?”
“just wonderin’ cause…” you shrugged, still looking out the window for a moment before turning back to him with a small, tipsy smile. “she likes you. and i think… you guys would be cute together.”
the words hit him harder than they should have.
sunghoon’s expression shifted—a flash of surprise, followed by something sharper, almost pained, and irritated. his crush—the girl he’d been liking for months—was trying to set him up with someone else. the irony burned.
“what?” he let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “that’s kinda silly. she doesn’t even know me. i don’t even know her.”
“well, maybe it’s time to get to know her then,” you replied lightly with a smile. as if it was the most obvious solution in the world. sunghoon swallowed. his chest felt tight.
“i don’t… i don’t like her like that.”
there was a beat of silence. at the emphasis, you tilted your head, watching him with those soft, slightly unfocused eyes.
“oh. so you have someone you like, then?”
sunghoon’s heart fluttered. he kept his eyes fixed on the road, then he glanced at you before replying. “yeah… i guess so.”
the air in the car suddenly felt a bit heavier—it was hard for you to grasp it in your drunken condition, but you knew enough not to push it further, just hummed quietly and leaned your head against the headrest.
sunghoon’s mind was racing.
how could you say that so easily? how could you just… tried to set him up with another…?
then, you turned your head to look at him again. “actually, i never thought you would have someone you like. you’re just so… composed and to yourself. it’s hard to figure you out.”
sunghoon gave a small, self–deprecating smile.
“well, i’m not exactly an open book when you wanna get to know me.”
still smiling, you replied, “i think you still are.”
a laugh escaped both of you at the same time—a little awkward, but it managed to ease the tension for a moment. sunghoon’s fingers tapped once against the steering wheel. he hesitated, then asked the question that had been burning in his chest since the starter of the conversation.
“what about you? do you have someone you like?”
you went quiet for a second, then nodded slowly. “i think so, yeah…” your voice was softer now, almost shy. “but i don’t think it’s reciprocated. or it is—i’m not sure.”
sunghoon’s heart picked up speed. so you have someone you like too. sunghoon wondered who it was—that lucky motherfucker. he tried to keep his voice steady.
“does he know you like him?”
you shook your head, a small, embarrassed smile tugging at your lips.
“no, i don’t think so. i get really… shy? around someone i like. so, yeah. if i like someone, nobody will know.”
the silence that followed was nothing like what’s in sunghoon’s mind. every word you said twisted something deep inside him—hope, frustration, and ache all at one. he wanted so badly to ask who it was.
he didn’t.
sunghoon didn’t even confess, yet it felt like he was already rejected.
or maybe he never stood a chance.
“oh—well, we’re here.” sunghoon murmured as he pulled up in front of your grandmother’s house. you unbuckled your seatbelt, gathering your things. just as you were about to thank him and step out, sunghoon spoke again.
“oh yeah, um… do you have a partner for the end of the year party yet? or are you even coming? ‘cause i’m performing.”
you paused, hand already at the handle, and turned back to him with a small smile. “oh yes, yeah. at jay’s house, right? i’m planning to ask jaeyun if he wants to come with me.”
sunghoon’s expression froze.
i love you, jaeyun.
“...jake?”
“yeah. who else?” you replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
it’s always him.
the words left his mouth before he could stop them.
“do you like him?”
you blinked, a little confused by the sudden shift in his tone. your eyebrows pinched in confusion, and your head’s slightly tilted. “yeah…? jake’s my bestfriend…”
sunghoon’s jaw tightened. his voice came out lower, edged with something bitter. “...cause i’m pretty sure he likes liz.”
you stared at him for a second, the playful mood from earlier completely gone. it felt like the two of you were autumn. cold and warm air clashing, shifting from sunny to stormy, windy, and freezing in a matter of minutes.
“ah… okay? why are you telling me this?”
the words came out faster than his brain allowed them to. sunghoon shifted in his seat. “i don’t think he’s good for you. i mean… jake’s great as a friend, but he’s kind of all over the place. he doesn’t really commit to anything. one day he’s all in, the next he’s distracted by something new. i just don’t think he’d treat you—”
“sunghoon, stop.”
your voice was firm. sharp.
you looked up at him with a frown—in confusion, disbelief, and disrespect that he just said that to your face. you gripped your purse tighter on your lap.
“he’s your friend. why are you saying all these things—? i don’t like this at all. you know how close we are.”
the silence that followed was heavy and awkward.
you unbuckled your seatbelt quickly and opened the car door. “i’m going to pretend like i didn’t hear this at all.” before stepping out, you turned back to him one last time, expression tight and clearly, clearly, disappointed.
“i’m really uncomfortable with you saying all this about jaeyun. um… thanks for the ride, anyway. goodnight.”
you closed the door with a soft but firm click and walked toward your house without looking back. sunghoon sat frozen in the driver’s seat for a second, staring at your retreating figure.
“wait—fuck… shit…” he muttered under his breath. he quickly pressed the button to roll down the passenger window. “yn—!” he called out, but you had already disappeared. the door shut behind you with a thud.
the street fell silent again.
sunghoon leaned back heavily against the headrest, dragging both hands down his face.
“what the fuck did i do…” he whispered to the empty car. “why did i do that… ugh, i’m so fucking dumb…”
his heart was pounding. the jealousy he wasn’t able to control that had been simmering all day had boiled over in the worst way possible. he’d badmouth his own bestfriend—jake, of all people—in front of you. the one person whose opinion mattered most to him.
sunghoon groaned, tilting his head back and closing his eyes.
“she’s never gonna look at me the same way again… fuck.”
the silence in the car felt suffocating. this was the most the car has been through since the last years sunghoon got it from his dad. his chest was tight, regret clawing at him from the inside. he needed something—anything—to take the edge off.
why the fuck did i say that?
sunghoon knew why.
he reached down toward the glove box where he usually kept his pack of cigarettes. his slender fingers fumbled blindly in the dark, brushing against the small box before he fished it out without thinking.
instead of his dark marlboro pack—it was a white box instead.
one wish willow.
the illustration of the glowing branch stared back at him. the tagline at the bottom suddenly felt louder than it had in the shop.
wishes do come true. be careful what you ask for.
oh. he was supposed to give this to you.
sunghoon’s thumb brushed over the smooth packaging. his mind was still reeling of annoyance, disappointment, and that ugly twist of jealousy all mixing together. the way you defended jake so quickly. the way you looked at him with discomfort and disappointment before getting out of the car. the way you wanted to ask jake to go with you to the party.
his chest felt tight. his jaw clenched. if he were to keep and give it to you later, what would change? it won’t magically get rid of tonight.
sunghoon’s fingers tightened around the box, he turned it over and read the instructions printed on the back in that minimalistic, fun, red font:
usage:
hold the one wish willow gently with both hands.
state your wish clearly and with intention.
break in half.
disposal: after granting your wish, the one wish willow loses its magical properties.
sunghoon mouthed the words as he read them, almost scoffing under his breath.
he looked up toward the front door of your house, the porch lights still on.
“as if…” he muttered, half bitter, half exhausted.
but his hands didn’t put the box down.
in the silence of the car, with the weight of the night pressing down and all the emotions came washing down upon him—sunghoon opened the box and held the small twig in both thumbs and indexes.
wishes do come true.
be careful who you ask for.
his voice came out low, raw, and half–serious.
“i wish yn ln loved me more than anyone else in the fucking world.”
crack.
sunghoon broke the one wish willow in half.
the sound was small and almost insignificant. like it was… nothing. a toy. a faint shimmer of something—dust? light? glitter?—seemed to sparkle for a split second before disappearing into thin air.
sunghoon let out a drag, shaky breath and rested his forehead against the steering wheel, eyes closed.
the broken pieces of the willow sat in his lap.
a beat passed.
then a second.
then a whole minute.
nothing happened.
sunghoon let out a bitter scoff, tossing the broken pieces of the one wish willow onto the passenger seat. he wasn’t sure what he was hoping for—he bought it at a fuckin’ crystal toy store for fucks sakes.
“fuck it,” he muttered. “should’ve known it was a scam anyway.”
he reached for the gear shift, ready to drive off—when a soft knock came from the passenger window.
shit—
sunghoon froze. through the glass, he saw the upper half of your body just standing there by his car. frowning slightly in confusion, he slowly rolled down the window.
it took you a few seconds to crouch down smoothly, elbows resting on the open window frame so your face was level with his. your eyes looked… different. not completely wrong, but off. a little too intense? a little too focused.
like something behind them was watching him more closely than usual.
you were probably still disappointed and bothered by it—and wanted to give sunghoon another warning.
“uh, yn… hey,” sunghoon said, swallowing the lump in his throat. “i just… i just had to pull up directions.”
you didn’t respond right away. you just looked at him for a long second, head slightly tilted.
“you said you had something for me?” your voice was soft, almost too soft.
oh, crap—sunghoon glanced at the broken willow twig on the passenger seat. thank god it was so dark that you didn’t notice it. “oh yeah, i uh… i left it at my house.”
the silence that followed felt heavy.
you visibly deflated a little, eyes dropping. “oh… okay…”
the quiet stretched. your fingers started tapping lightly on the window frame—slow, rhythmic, almost absentminded. the movement felt a little too precise. a little too repetitive. it’s almost like you didn’t want to get back inside.
sunghoon’s stomach twisted.
“i can bring it to work tomorrow…” he offered quietly, smiling.
you blinked slowly, then gave him a small nod. “um… okay…”
your voice dragged just slightly at the end. you stayed crouched there for another second, staring at him with the same unnervingly focused gaze. sunghoon swallowed the lump in his throat nervously, licking his lips.
“well—uh, goodnight yn.”
“wait, actually…” you tilted your head, eyes still locked on him. “um, i think you could use some company tonight. i mean, i did just lose my cat—”
sunghoon frowned. “...you lost your cat?”
you blinked again, like a glitch had passed through your expression. you shook your head, then quickly corrected yourself. “oh wait, i mean you lost your cat. i’m sorry… i’m so sorry for your loss.” your voice softened, but there was something oddly eager beneath. “what should we—are you—do you wanna come inside?”
sunghoon stared at you, visibly confused. his eyes flicked for a split second to the broken piece of the one wish willow.
could it be…
“... are you okay?”
you smiled—soft, almost too sweet. “are you okay?”
“yeah, i’m okay,” he answered slowly.
“well… why don’t you come inside?” you offered again, fingers still lightly tapping the window frame. “we can—you know, talk about your cat and have a few drinks together.”
the invitation hung in the air. your eyes never left his face.
sunghoon rubbed his temple, trying to make sense of the situation. “yn, i’m a little confused…” he chuckled softly, dry. “i think you’re drunk.”
“no, i’m not,” you said quickly, almost defensively. “really.”
he sighed softly. “just… get some sleep, okay?”
that threw you off.
“no, no, no.” you stood abruptly, crossing your arms over your chest. your posture was stiff, almost childlike in its stubbornness. “i know what you’re trying to do.”
sunghoon blinked. “what—?”
you didn’t answer. instead, you reached for the door handle, pulled it open, and slid back into the seat without warning. you sat directly on the broken pieces, the twig crunching faintly beneath you.
“you’re trying to get rid of me,” you said, voice low but strangely intense, eyes fixed on him again.
sunghoon’s heart jumped.
“what? no, no, no—” he stammered, hands lifting slightly in surrender and defense. he could never get rid of you as hard as he tried to. “i just—i just think you’re not in your right head right now.”
you pouted—a soft, almost childish expression crossing your face as you leaned over and pressed your cheek against the dashboard, eyes still locked on him.
sunghoon thought you were cute.
“i promise you i am…” you murmured. “i just… i feel really bad about your cat. you know how much i love cats, right? i don’t want you to be alone. and honestly… i don’t want to be alone either.”
sunghoon’s chest tightened. the way you said it—so vulnerable, so sincere. especially when you barely opened up to him like you did to jake—made something inside him soften despite his brain’s ringing warning bells.
“why? is everything okay?”
you stayed quiet for a moment, cheek still resting against the cool surface. then your voice came out smaller. “well… i don’t think my grandmother wants me around anymore…”
the words hit him harder than expected. your grandmother—? the same one who had been taking care of you since infancy? didn’t want you around anymore? you looked so small like this—curled slightly in his passenger seat, eyes glassy. sunghoon felt a strong wave of sympathy washing over him.
“oh… what? i—i’m sorry, yn… do you, um… wanna talk about it?”
you shook your head slowly, still not lifting your cheek from the dashboard.
“...not here.”
——
sunghoon wasn’t sure if you eventually convinced him, or if he convinced himself to let you come inside.
the two of you walked into his house. the moment the door closed behind you, you looked around with wide, curious eyes.
“your house is so nice…” you whispered, almost reverent as you took off your flats by the door. sunghoon rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly self–conscious. had he known he was going to have you over—
“i like it here.”
he glanced at the lotion bottle on the coffee table.
“oh, thanks… it’s your first time here, right? i’m sorry if it’s not really that clean… i wasn’t expecting company tonight so—”
he didn’t even get to finish his sentence.
while sunghoon was still talking, you had already wandered off toward the kitchen like you knew your way around. that gave him the time to put the bottle somewhere else though. you stopped in the middle of the room, closing your eyes and breathing in deeply.
“it smells like you.” you said softly.
sunghoon froze by the kitchen arch.
“...me? like… bad?”
you turned to him with a small, dreamy smile and shook your head.
“no. it’s nice. i like it.”
warmth bloomed and spread through his chest despite everything. sunghoon had forgotten about the whole incident that happened in front of your house. he cleared his throat.
“yn,” he paused, trying to regain some control of the situation. “you need some sleep, okay? i’ll get you some water.”
sunghoon moved toward the fridge, but you stayed standing in the middle of his kitchen, watching his every move with that same unnervingly soft gaze. sunghoon poured you a glass of cold water, standing in front of you as he held it up.
“here.”
you looked up to him. instead of taking it in your own hands, you wrapped your hands around his’ and brought the glass to your lips, taking a sip.
a few minutes later, the two of you were in his bedroom.
you sat on the edge of his bed, still fully clothed, one leg hanging off the side, the other folded beneath your weight. sunghoon lingered in the doorway, like a father bidding goodnight.
“i’m sorry if i was being weird earlier,” you said quietly. your finger traced the hem of your midi skirt. “i don’t know what was wrong with me.”
“it’s okay,” sunghoon replied, smiling. his voice gentle. “you don’t have to explain it. you’ve been through a lot, so just take all the time that you need, alright?”
you nodded slowly, looking small on his bed.
sunghoon looked around, unsure what to do before he reached over and turned off the main light switch, leaving only the tall floor lamp by the end of the room. the warm, dim lighting cast long shadows across the walls.
he was about to say goodnight and leave when your voice stopped him.
“wait.”
sunghoon turned back.
“will you sleep with me?”
sunghoon froze. “what?”
he looked at the state of you on his bed—slightly disheveled, looking a bit like a pretty mess. “i don’t think i should…”
you looked up at him, eyes wide and pleading. “please… i can’t be alone right now. i’ll get in my head if i’m in here by myself.”
a beat passed.
sunghoon felt a heavy wave of guilt and unsure–rity settled in his chest. he exhaled slowly.
“...yeah. i can do that.”
he kicked off his home slippers by the door. you didn’t waste a single second either—started undressing right there and then, peeling off your top and skirt. sunghoon quickly looked away out of respect, but the mirror in front of his bed betrayed him. he caught the reflection of your body as you stripped down to just your underwear.
his throat tightened.
he wasn’t complaining.
shit… your covered breasts behind your white bra was even better than your bare tits in his dream. sunghoon loved the fats in your body, the little, subtle childhood scars and marks.
when you were done, he turned around and approached the bed slowly. sunghoon reached out and softly touched your arm, almost like he was making sure you were real and on his bed. you gently pulled him toward you.
the two of you ended up sitting against the headboard. he stiffened as you immediately curled into his side, placing your head on his shoulder and nuzzling closer, almost like a cat seeking warmth. one of your legs draped lightly over his as you got comfortable, letting out a soft, content hum.
“i needed this,” you whispered, voice low and breathy against his neck.
sunghoon’s heart fluttered. he couldn’t contain his smile. “really?”
“mmhm…” you rubbed your cheek against his shoulder in a slow, affectionate motion. “i’m sorry about your cat again…”
there was something almost feline in the way you moved—slow, seeking constant contact. you pressed closer, tits flushed against his bicep. it was like you wanted to melt to him, fingers tracing patterns on his chest like marking territory.
sunghoon swallowed hard, one arm hesitantly wrapping around you.
you shifted slightly, then gently took his chin between your pretty fingers and tilted his face toward yours. your eyes were half–lidded, lips parted as you leaned in.
sunghoon’s breath hitched.
“wait—” he whispered, pulling back just slightly. “i… i think you’re drunk.”
you shook your head slowly, still holding his chin. your voice was soft, but steady. “i’m not. i promise.”
he gazed into your eyes. in the warm lamplight, they looked darker, deeper, almost… bottomless. for the first time, he saw—really saw—his reflection in your eyes and realised how much he had wanted this.
how long sunghoon had ached for you. how badly he had needed you to look at him like this. all the longing, jealousy, nights thinking of you—it was at this moment that worthed it all.
sunghoon must’ve been the easiest man ever—
he succumbed.
he leaned in and kissed you—slow at first, then deeper and more passionate. his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours with pent–up hunger. the kiss was hungry and desperate and full of everything he’d kept to himself.
you melted into it immediately, letting out a soft, needy sound against his mouth as your fingers curled into his shirt.
the two of you kissed. and kissed.
and the longer it went on, the more desperate it became. you climbed onto his lap, straddling him as your hands cupped his face. sunghoon’s hands roamed your back, pulling you closer, tugging onto the clasps of your bra.
he’s so lost in the heat of everything he’d wanted for so long.
his fingers gently touched the side of your neck.
and something in you snapped.
your eyes flew open. so wide it almost popped out of your socket. for a split second, the hazy, overly affectionate version of you vanished. you realised you were kissing sunghoon. half–naked. in his bed.
terror flooded your expression.
you shoved him back hard, scrambling off his lap and falling backward onto the floor with a loud thud. your back hit the floor.
“sunghoon—oh my god!” you gasped, eyes wide with horror as you stared up at him from the ground.
sunghoon looked completely panicked, frozen at where he was. “what?! what, what?! holy shit?!”
you sat up quickly, covering your chest with your arms, face burning with embarrassment. “oh my gosh, i’m so sorry! i’m so sorry—!”
the terror on your face melted away into an apologetic look. you stayed on the floor for a moment, blinking up at him with wide, watery eyes. “i’m sorry… i’m so sorry…” you kept whispering, voice small.
sunghoon’s heart was beating so fast—still in shock, breathing hard.
“no, shit—what was that?!”
you flinched at his tone. “don’t yell at me… i don’t know… i thought i saw something!”
your eyes welled up with tears. the sudden switch made you emotionally raw, and the sudden outburst from him broke something in you. your lips trembled as tears started falling down your cheeks.
sunghoon’s anger and confusion immediately crumbled into guilt.
“...hey…” he quickly got off the bed and crouched down, gently pulling you up from the floor. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to yell.”
you let him lift you, still sniffing. “i really don’t know… it's a panic attack, i—i panicked.”
he sat back on the edge of the bed and pulled you into his lap like a baby—one arm wrapped around your back, the other cradling your head as he tucked you into his chest.
“i—it’s okay, i was just—” he murmured, rubbing slow circles on your back. “i was just surprised… cause you kissed me first.”
you curled into him, burying your face in his neck, still letting out soft, hiccuping sobs. your arms wrapped tightly around him like you were afraid he’d disappear. sunghoon held you close, heart still racing.
when sunghoon felt your body relaxed, he kissed the top of your head.
“don’t do that next time…”
——
the next day at work felt strangely normal.
you and sunghoon stepped into the video rental store together after arriving at the same time—having rode the same car and all. the bell above chimed as you both entered.
“oh, right. can i stay—”
before you could finish your sentence, the store manager, kim, appeared from the sides and immediately grabbed your arm, pulling you aside. “yn! i don’t know how many times i have to tell people we don’t sell porn here—”
the rest of her sentence was cut off as she dragged you away.
sunghoon barely had the time to process everything before jake popped right in front of him like a damn jack in the box.
he turned jake around and shoved his friend toward the staff breakroom just behind the entrance wall. once they were out of sight, jake turned on him.
“what happened last night?”
sunghoon ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. he tasted the words on the tip of his tongue, unsure how to put it in words. last night was… to blame on the alcohol.
“you wouldn’t believe me.”
jake’s eyes widened. he couldn’t believe it—his childhood friend, and his bestfriend—that had been liking you for so long. finally—?
“you guys FUCKED?”
sunghoon’s eyes widened, and he was quick to slap a hand over jake’s mouth, muffling the loud exclamation. “oh my gosh, keep it down!” sunghoon hissed, glancing nervously around the room. “and no… we didn’t.”
jake pulled sunghoon’s hand off his mouth, looking suspicious. “then what the hell happened? you didn’t update us at all last night, and now you’re coming to work together? something’s fishy.”
sunghoon leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms. “we just… we just slept together, that’s all.”
jake raised an eyebrow. “huh, okay.” then he grinned again.
“well… how was she?”
“um, i don’t know…” sunghoon hesitated, looking visibly conflicted. “she’s… she’s acting weird last night.”
“weird? how?”
sunghoon paused, recalling the night in fragments. after the thing… that happened, sunghoon cuddled you to sleep, and you woke up the next day just fine. he dropped you off at your house to change, waited outside, then drove the two of you to work.
“well, first she said her grandma’s kicking her out.”
jake’s face instantly shifted from playful to shocked. “no way?” his voice dropped. “she’s been living with her grandma since we were kids. what happened?”
“i don’t know,” sunghoon admitted, shrugging. “we didn’t talk about it last night. but… she’s having like, this mental breakdown. she’d freak out one second, then be all happy and clingy the next, then start crying. it was… weird. really weird.”
jake stared at him, processing everything.
“damn… that doesn’t sound like her at all.”
sunghoon nodded slowly, a heavy feeling settling in his stomach.
a beat of silence passed between them.
“you think she’s on… molly again…?”
jake frowned deeply, crossing his arms. “she’s been sober for almost a year. she has no reason to… unless because of her grandma, that is.”
“shit, maybe,” sunghoon muttered, rubbing his face. “i don’t know how to ask her though.”
“i’ll do it then,” jake said without hesitation. if anything, it’s weird jake didn’t know about it. you’d always come to him firsthand. sunghoon glanced toward the breakroom door, suddenly paranoid.
“is she still staring?”
jake darted his eyes toward the entrance, peeking through the small gap in the door. he’s met with the sight of you standing behind the cashier machine, body looking forward, but head’s turned towards where jake and sunghoon’s conversation was taking place.
you were smiling.
“yeah.”
——
jake drove you home after work.
the moment he got back to his apartment, sunghoon dropped his bag, kicked off his shoes, and went straight to his computer. he opened a browser and typed into the search bar:
does the one wish willow actually work?
u/sorrowfull: no it’s an urban legend. my cousin swore it worked but he was just high as fuck lol.
u/rik999: yeah it really granted a wish for me back in 2023!
u/godaddy: it’s not supposed to be used. my dad still has it unopened till now cause it’s just a collector thing.
u/xuser: don’t even play with that thing lol i wished for braces cos my teeth was fucked and now theyre PERFECT
u/tickdrip: placebo effect at best. one can try though.
sunghoon stared at the screen, conflicted and confused. he licked his lips, index finger tapping on the mouse like he wasn’t sure what to do with it. with a heavy sigh, he eventually shut his laptop, rubbing his face.
what the hell am i even doing…
for all he knew, his wish didn’t even come true, and it was just a coincidence. maybe you had a change of mind. maybe you finally had the courage to tell him you liked him. maybe—
knock knock.
sunghoon whipped his head toward the door. it’s almost eleven, and he wasn’t expecting anyone at this hour. regardless, he walked over and opened it.
you—
you were standing there in a thin spaghetti strap black dress that hugged your figure beautifully, full makeup done perfectly—glossy lips, soft eyeshadow, curled lashes, flushed cheeks, the works. you looked stunning—it genuinely took him aback for a second.
“hi, hoonie,” you said softly, a shy smile on your face.
“...yn? what’s up?” where are you going?” he asked, still a little stunned.
you fidgeted with the hem of your dress, looking nervous. “i didn’t know what to wear…”
“what do you mean?”
you bit your lip, clearly nervous.
“i—i’m really sorry about last night. jake told me what happened… you were freaked out—”
“no, no, it’s okay, yn!” sunghoon said quickly, waving his hands in front of him. you looked so cute and he was way too down to even regard everything last night as odd. even if it was.
you stayed in the doorway for a moment, then swallowed the lump in your throat. “i probably shouldn’t have taken anything…”
a beat.
sunghoon blinked. “huh?”
you looked up at him. the outside light behind you made your eyes look darker than it already was. “yeah… i, um, i was on mdma and i was drunk. but i promise… no more.”
“right, okay…” sunghoon said slowly, trying to process everything. he knew you’d taken drugs before, but he never knew it was this bad. “well, do you remember… stuff?”
you stayed quiet for a second, eyes lowered.
“most of it, yeah,” you finally answered. “if i was weird… it was because of the stuff i’m going through. i didn’t mean it…”
sunghoon’s eyes narrowed with a clear disappointment. your gaze shifted, a flicker of concern crossing your face as you noticed his reaction.
he looked away for a moment.
“...oh. okay.”
you took a small step closer.
“also… i want to be transparent about some things."
sunghoon’s heart spiked. out of pure fear—fear of being rejected, fear of hearing you say it was all a mistake, that you didn’t mean any of it, that you two should just go back to being friends and nothing more, or worse stopped being friends at all—
he quickly cut in.
“you don’t have to explain—”
“i know you like me.”
the words hit him like a truck.
sunghoon froze, quickly thrown off.
“no—i—why? what?”
your face dropped instantly. the hopeful, nervous expression you’d been wearing shattered into something vulnerable and raw, like you’d… just been rejected on the spot.
then, after a heavy beat of silence and unspoken things, sunghoon began, voice quieter.
“...do you like me?”
you looked up at him, eyes soft and vulnerable.
“would it freak you out if i said yes?”
a long beat passed.
it was an oddly romantic moment—the kind you only see in movies. sunghoon stared at you, completely caught off guard. his lips parted slightly in surprise. then, slowly, a shy, disbelieving smile spread across his face as he let out a soft chuckle, almost like he couldn’t believe this was real.
he rubbed the back of his neck, voice quiet.
“how long have you felt this way?”
you shifted on your feet, nervous but honest. “it happened over time… maybe with all the time we hung out, and by the time i knew it, i just—” you looked at him, head tilted, searching his face.
“don’t you have feelings for me?”
sunghoon covered his mouth with his hand for a second, shy and overwhelmed. this was the moment he had dreamed about for so long—late nights wondering if you’d ever look at him the way he looked at you, replaying every small interaction in his head, wishing for exactly…
this.
“yeah,” he finally admitted. “i do.”
your face softened. you stepped closer, gently tugged the front of his shirt, and wrapped your arms around him. sunghoon didn’t hesitate. he hugged your back tightly, one arm around your waist, the other cradling the back of your head. you stood there in the doorway, holding each other like the world didn’t exist.
after a long moment, he pulled back just enough to whisper against your hair,
“do you wanna sleep over tonight?”
——
sunghoon slammed you against the wall, kissing you fiercely. all the months of longing, stolen glances, and quiet admiration poured out in that single moment. his mouth was hungry, desperate, claiming yours like he’d been starving for you.
his hands roamed your body—one gripping your waist, the other sliding up your thigh, pushing the hem of your black dress higher.
“ah, babe—” you moaned into his mouth, hands fisting his shirt as you kissed him back just as desperately. the pent–up lust between you was explosive. sunghoon groaned, grinding against you as he pulled the top of your dress along with your bra, exposing your pretty tits.
his mouth left yours to trail hot, open–mouthed kisses down your neck, then lower, sucking and biting at your skin while his hands squeezed and caressed your perky nipples.
you arched into him, gasping, fingers tangled in his locks.
“f—fuck, hoonie…”
sunghoon was losing himself completely—the way you tasted, the way you sounded, the way your body responded to every touch. he wanted to devour you. whole and full. wanted to mark you. wanted you to be his in every possible way.
then, mid–moan, your pearly eyes locked with his.
your eyes widened like it was going to bulge out—expression shifted to sheer panic.
with a frantic shove, you pushed him hard. sunghoon stumbled backward onto the bed as you let out a blood–curling scream, body trembling violently. almost instantly, you hugged your body, colour drained from your body.
“sunghoon, what the fuck?!”
he remained on the bed, shocked and unfazed for a split second—still breathing hard, lips swollen from kissing you. your lipstick stained the corner of his lips.
but within moments, the switch flipped again.
you crawled on top of him like nothing had happened, straddling his waist and sitting on his stomach. your wetness through your thin panties rubbed against his skin as you leaned down and kissed him again, deep and possessive—like you couldn’t bear even a second of separation.
sunghoon didn’t question it. the disturbance registered as nothing more than a fleeting inconvenience.
you pulled back just enough to whisper against his lips,
“sorry, baby…”
sunghoon smiled, hands sliding up your thighs, lifting up your dress until the pooled around your waist.
“it’s okay, baby,” he murmured, voice husky. “molly effect, hm?”
you giggled softly, nuzzling into his neck like a contented critter—pressing warm kisses along his jaw.
the two of you kissed again—slower this time, but no less hungry. your hands roamed his chest, then lower, until you slid down between his knees. sunghoon’s breath hitched as you settled on the floor in front of him, looking up at him with those dark, adoring eyes.
sunghoon couldn’t believe this was happening.
you reached for his belt, undoing it with clumsy but eager fingers. when you freed him—his cock was curvy and at a perfect size, if not slightly bigger, for a lean man like sunghoon. it throbbed visibly in the air between you, the tip already glistening with beads of precum.
“s—shit, baby, look how hard you made me…”
you smiled, leaning to press a soft kiss to the tip first, almost reverent. your lips brushed against the sensitive head as you murmured, warm air hitting the slit.
“you’re so big…”
you kept kissing the tip tenderly like it’s his lips—then dragged your tongue slowly across it, licking up the beads of precum with a soft, satisfied hum. the taste of him seemed to spur you on. you opened your mouth wider and took him in—slow at first, letting your tongue swirl around the head before sinking down further.
sunghoon let out a low groan, head falling back for a second. “fuck…”
his hand gently threading through your hair as you worked him with passionate, wet strokes. your mouth was hot and eager, sucking with just the right amount of pressure while your hand stroked what you couldn't fit. you moaned around him, the vibrations sending up sparks up his spine.
“fuck… just like that, baby…” he whispered, hips twitching slightly but holding back, letting you set the pace. you looked up at him through your lashes, eyes watery but full of devotion as you took him deeper—hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head.
then, you pulled back just enough to catch a breather—lips glossy.
“i’ve never done this before…”
sunghoon’s eyes widened, breath ragged.
“at all?”
you tilted your head, a small, hazy smile on your face. your hands continued to jerk him off back and forth, catching your own slicky saliva on your grip.
“mmm… i think so?”
there was a strange, fleeting disconnect in your works—like your memories were clashing with one another. but sunghoon was too far gone to question it.
you leaned back in, taking him deeper again. the wet heat of your mouth, the way you moaned around him, the way you looked up at him like pleasing him was the only thing that mattered was overwhelming.
his breathing grew heavier, low groans slipping out as you worked him with sensual devotion.
sunghoon’s breathing grew heavier. low, broken groans slipped from his throat as your head bobbed, tongue swirling around the underside of his cock while your hand stroked the base. every so often you’d pull back to kiss and lick the wet tip, almost in a teasing manner before sinking down again.
“baby,” he rasped, fingers tightening in your hair. “you’re so good at this… feels so fucking good.”
the sight of you on your knees, lips stretched around him, tits wet with your drippy saliva—it was better than any dream he’d had. imagining this exact moment, paled in comparison to the real thing—he was losing himself completely.
his hips started twitching, thighs sensing as pleasure coiled tighter and tiger in his tummy. “hngh—baby…” he groaned, voice strained. “i need to be inside you.”
sunghoon pulled you up slightly with a wet pop, lips shiny and swollen. without a word, you climbed back onto the bed and laid down, pulling him on top of you.
he hovered over you, drinking in the sight. you looked breathtaking underneath him—flushed cheeks, swollen lips, hair fanned out prettily on his pillow, black dress bunched around your waist. your tits rose and fell with every quick breath, nipples hardened from arousal. your legs spread for him, panties pushed to the side.
“you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion as he positioned the head of his cock at your entrance. “i’ve been wanting to tell you that for so long.”
you giggled shyly, biting your lip as you looked up at him.
“come on… love me.”
“i do love you,” sunghoon breathed.
then he pushed in.
the first thrust was slow but deep, stretching you open around his curved length. you gasped, back arching slightly as he bottomed out. sunghoon groaned, forehead pressing against yours.
“fuck… you’re so tight.”
you moaned softly, nails digging into his shoulders.
“you’re my first—oh gosh, you’re my first…”
that single sentence sent a bolt of raw heat through him. sunghoon’s hips snapped forward harder, fucking you deeper strokes. the thought that he was your first—that no one else had ever had you like this—made something primal inside him snap.
he thrusted harder, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room along with your moans and his groans.
it was going good—your pussy was tight and heavenly, and sunghoon had never felt a hold other than his hand so good like this. but then—
you suddenly laughed—a bright, almost delirious sound—and tilted your head back, arching your back as pleasure overtook you.
it freaked sunghoon out a little.
your body convulsed underneath him as uncontrollable giggles spilled from your lips. your eyes rolled back, whites showing for a terrifying second, like you found this whole situation fucking hilarous.
it was wrong. inhumane, almost.
his hand shot up instinctively, wrapping around your throat—not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to pin you down and stop the violent twitching.
“no, no… don’t do that, baby,” he rasped, still buried deep inside you, hips faltering for a moment. “stay with me—look at me.”
the laughter cut off abruptly.
your body went still. then your eyes rolled back into place, focusing on him again. the eerie, too–wide smile slowly softened back into normal. the smile he loved so much. sunghoon’s cock tip then kissed the gummy spot inside you, eliciting a soft moan from your lips.
“hngh—!” you gasped, eyes momentarily shut in pleasure before they opened again, finding his—but not entirely looking.
“...sorry, baby,” you whispered sweetly, blinking.
🍴♡ thinking about fem!fuma teaching you how to eat her out for the first time
the apartment was quiet except for the soft sound of your breathing and the occasional shift of fabric as fuma settled back against the headboard.
you knelt between her open thighs, her robe pushed aside, the warm, flushed skin of her cunt already glistening under the low light. your hands rested on her thighs, fingers slightly trembling. fuma’s hand slid into your hair, gathering it gently at the back of your head. not pulling yet—just holding, steady and sure.
“look at me,” she said quietly.
you lifted your eyes. hers were dark and soft and hungry all at once.
“there’s no rush. you’re going to take your time with me, and i’m going to walk you through every second. all you have to do is listen, okay?”
you nodded.
she guided your face closer until your lips brushed against her. the heat of her skin and the intimate scent of her made your stomach tighten.
“open for me,” she murmured. “soft kisses first.”
you pressed your mouth to her, shy. leaving small wet kisses along her heat. fuma exhaled through her nose, a quiet, pleased sound.
“that’s it. now give it a little kitten lick, taste it.”
your tongue slipped out and dragged a small slow, tentative line up the seam of her folds. the taste was warm and slightly sweet. her fingers tightened just a little in your hair, keeping you right there.
“gooood… keep going. long, slow strokes. flatten your tongue, cover all of me. can you do that for me, bunny?”
you nodded against her, a small, shaky sound catching in your throat. your tongue flattened and dragged another long line up the length of her folds, slower this time, more deliberate. the taste of her bloomed warmer on your tongue. fuma’s fingers flexed gently in your hair, not forcing, just keeping you exactly where she wanted.
“that’s it,” she praised, voice low and steady. “just like that. nice and thorough. you’re doing so good already. my sweet girl.”
you licked again, broader, covering more of her. her thighs shifted under your hands, a quiet exhale leaving her as you dragged over her clit by accident.
“mhmm… right there. stay higher for a second. soft circles around my clit, bunny. no rushing.”
she guided your head with that careful hand, tilting you until your tongue was right where she wanted it. you circled the swollen bud carefully, the tip of your tongue tracing slow, shy loops. fuma’s breathing deepened.
“perfect. look at you learning so fast. keep those soft little circles going… yes. just like that.”
your confidence grew with every quiet sound she made. you pressed a little firmer, then flattened your tongue and dragged over her clit in a slow, wet stroke. her fingers tightened in your hair for a second—just enough to sting sweetly at the roots—before relaxing again.
“mm—fuck… good girl. you’re making mommy feel so good. such a quick learner.”
she started guiding you more actively now, the hand in your hair setting a slow, rolling rhythm. slight, controlled movements of her hips pressed her cunt more fully against your mouth. not rough, just steady, teaching you the pace she liked.
“suck a little,” she murmured. “gentle. close your lips around it and pull. soft. i’m sensitive there, bunny.”
you obeyed, sealing your mouth around her clit and giving a careful, tentative suck. fuma’s head tipped back against the headboard, a low, pleased hum rolling out of her.
“yes… just like that. alternate between sucking and licking. you’re doing so good, pretty girl. making me throb.”
the praise sank deep into you. you stayed right there, licking and sucking in the rhythm she set, letting her use the hand in your hair to keep your mouth exactly where she needed it. soft, wet sounds filled the quiet room. her free hand stroked your cheek, then slid down to rest against the side of your neck, grounding you.
“ah—mm—lets try a little deeper now, bun” she said after a moment, voice a little breathier. “use that pretty tongue, taste how wet you made me.”
she guided your face lower, holding you steady as you pushed your tongue between her folds. the heat of her was overwhelming. you licked into her carefully, and her thighs tightened around your ears for a second.
“that’s it… fuck. stay right there. good girl. look so pretty between mommy's thighs—mmh—should just keep you here."
she held you in place, hips rolling in tiny, controlled circles against your mouth while the praise kept coming, soft and constant.
“you’re doing so good. look at this pretty mouth working so hard. my sweet, inexperienced girl learning how to eat cunt like she was made for it.”
your own thighs pressed tightly together, aching, but you stayed focused on her—the taste, the heat, the steady guidance of her hand in your hair. her breathing grew heavier. the grip tightened just enough to keep you locked against her clit.
“don’t stop, baby. i’m getting close. keep that tongue moving exactly like i showed you.”
you licked and sucked in the rhythm she had taught you, letting her use your mouth with those small, controlled rolls of her hips. soft, wet sounds filled the space between you. her free hand stroked your hair between the gentle pulls, petting and guiding at the same time.
“you’re doing so good… so good for me. pretty girl. keep going. don’t stop—”
her thighs tensed hard around your head. a broken, low moan spilled out of her as she came, pulsing against your tongue in warm, rhythmic waves. she held your face gently but firmly in place through it, letting you feel every flutter while she whispered.
“good girl… good girl…mmph—taking it so well. perfect. god—you’re so perfect.”
when the tremors finally eased, fuma loosened her grip and carefully guided your head up. your lips were shiny, chin wet, pupils dilated. she looked at you with a proud, gentle smile, dark eyes soft and full of heat as she studied your flushed face.
“come here,” she murmured, voice still a little rough.
she pulled you up into her lap without any rush, settling you against her chest so your thighs straddled one of hers. one hand came up to cup the back of your neck, the other stroking your cheek with her thumb, wiping away a little of the wetness she had left on your skin.
“my perfect girl,” she murmured against your lips. “you did so well. first time and you already made me come like that.”
her hand stroked down your back, as her other hand reached lower, slipping between your thighs where you were soaked and aching.
“now let me take care of this pretty cunt,” she whispered. “you’ve been so good. you deserve it.”
now playing...ride or die
a/n: this work reflects my understanding of heeseung leaving enhypen. here's something soft to hold you after the documentary <3
wc: 1.3k
warnings: mild agony
you don't exactly know why you feel this jittery. your anxiety is probably palpable to every on-looker who glances your way, your nervous tapping and constant prayers audible to all, but apparently not to the one supernatural being you wished to reach.
since six a.m., you've been wondering, alongside him of course, if there was something wrong. the kind of urgency in yuki's voice that day, his call and his cryptic words calling heeseung to the office felt so estranged. you'd practically known the seven boys and their manager like they were your family, but today he sounded eerily like a real manager instead of a tired dad.
heeseung was inside the suffocatingly high-end boardroom of the vast hybe building, and still you could feel the remnants of his presence around you, sitting near the fountain outside said complex. his voice, his hand gripping yours pretending to console you while calming his nerves, his frantic movements in making his way up by the stairs, not the elevator because that would make him think, everything felt surreal.
and not in a good way.
you wait outside a little dumbly, like a mother after her kid goes to preschool for almost an hour. you don't even know what victory would mean for him.
it was only around two months ago when he snuck into your apartment and told you that he wanted to venture in his own element, music that was solely his, not a vampire's, not a pre-produced and manufactured one, but his. in every sense of the way, he had confessed under the warm lights of your kitchen that he wanted to become the version of himself that he had buried beneath choreography, concepts, and boundaries. the one that used to stare into the void and think about his career fondly, the one whose hand you had held since high-school.
but he didn't want to let go of what he was, his very essence being intertwined with what was home to him, his people, his haven, his enhypen. but perhaps he was being too selfish, wanting everything to himself. maybe he didn't know that it was either abel or cain, not the both of them you could kill and get away with.
eventually, he had mustered up this courage to the members, his forever leader, his 'wife', as engenes joked about jake, his pretty and brave hoon, his and enhypen's princess sunoo, and of course, the boy he had basically raised, riki.
they all understood it before he had finished speaking, as if they had already known about it from the look on his face of wanting to be something bigger than himself. they knew that he wanted to be his own entity, to write, produce, dance, sing, and flow in a way that was in solidarity, and they'd all cheered for him, raised a beer for it too, about how all he would write would be sappy r&b and that he would never be able to be as mysterious as his photoshoots made him look.
but understanding only gets you so far, because the magic that music meant to heeseung was merely an asset of categorized stocks to the executives upstairs. an hour of 'negotiation' and poorly concealed coercion later, the man you had loved and held through everything was left behind a very, very, fragile mess of teary-eyed compliance.
it would have hurt if heeseung came up to you and told you what the deal was. it would have pained, and you both would have been melancholy about it in a weird way that would remind you too much about the past.
but heeseung is nothing if not carved out of raw compassion and emotion, and so he does the worst thing possible.
he walks up to you like any other devastatingly beautiful guy while you look at him with the same worried gaze, and then once his eyes can bore into yours, he looks straight at you, and falls.
falls into the crook of your neck as his demeanor falters, his knees growing weak as you have to hold him up. and despite yourself who every much wants to hold him when he's like this, you have to ask his native language, in an afraid tone this time,
"what did they say, heeseung? tell me, come on, don't cry, don't be sad."
your hands are still nursing the back of his hair, your fingers are still touching the hot streaks of tears that fall from the eyes of the strongest person you know, as he gutturally sobs into you and says, in the most conflicted voice,
"i'm leaving enhypen. i have to."
it's been months since that day of emotional turmoil, of a back and forth between being happy for this, now, and being so upset about him leaving behind a part of himself. hybe could frame it as beginning a new chapter, but to the both of you, to the six other men you had seen and joked with throughout the course of them getting their jawlines, it was as if he was leaving behind an unfinished book to start a new one.
jungwon accepted it as an invitation for the others to complete his journey for him, the sweat and blood he had shed for enhypen reflected in every performance that would only have six artists on stage from here on out.
heeseung's blood boiled everytime he spoke of it, and so he rarely did, but he hated telling you that day, that the company they all had stayed awake weeks for, starving and overworking themselves to the point of fainting, had threatened to sabotage the group if both heeseung and evan were to co-exist.
the following weeks felt like taking care of a man who had forgotten about his physical being. it was as if hee had transcended into some sort of numbness no one could explain.
singing.
dancing.
writing.
correcting.
it was all he did, his relationship with music had been redefined and he felt like the same heeseung who had entered i-land with a bag and an ambition. he felt desperate to prove himself just one more time.
he couldn't look in the way of the boys he had left this cruelly without tearing up. they understood more than him, that he needed to do this to remain true to what he was, because the real crime would be to betray himself for so long.
looking at him produce and refine his ideas in his own element made you happy for him, strangely. he was collaborating with people he had just met, synthesizing beats with lyrics to vocals, and was understanding the mechanics of music in a way he wasn't exposed to as the hyung of enhypen.
eventually, his resentment towards himself subsided as he met the enhypen of now, the one with a saranghae attached to its fanchant. it may not have been the same easy smiles and letting loose it was a year ago, but it was a rekindled spark of friendship and autonomy. everyone was happy where they were, and you were happy in their contentment.
somewhere between the first scrap to the most recent encore, your heeseung felt reborn. the intrigue and glint in his eyes when he spoke of rhythm had returned, and it finally felt as if there was something good about this abrupt change.
after the new manager clicked on the 'upload' button of how evan was built, akin to an actively burning phoenix, neither of you celebrated it, but accepted it with a deep pride in your hearts, and yet an unsettling fear in your chests for what was to come.
xoxo,
seraphine
in which your coworker provides where your boyfriend fails, based on this ask.
pairing: koga yudai x fem!reader
warnings: infidelity/cheating, semi-public sex, sex at work, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), nipple play, dirty talk, mention of taking pics/videos, mention of getting caught, cumming inside. do not read if uncomfortable.
wc: 8k
your eyelids were growing heavier by the second as you stared at the printer. painfully slow, the paper printed out one by one. for an office space as big as the one you worked at, you would’ve thought they could afford to get an actually decent printer, but you were wrong.
you let out a deep sigh, crossing your arms as you waited impatiently for the printing job to finish.
“good morning,” kei, one of your coworkers, greeted, stepping into the printer room with you. “got you this.”
he handed you a cup of coffee. when you looked closer at the paper cup, you saw that your order was written on it with a heart drawn around it, and it brought a smile to your tired face.
“you’re the best,” you gushed, bringing the cup up to your lips.
“how was your weekend?” kei asked, leaning against the table behind you.
you thought about the weekend you had, and why it had made you so tired now; monday morning.
you and your boyfriend fought almost all weekend. it started over the dinner reservations he missed and didn’t bother to tell you he was going to miss, which left you sitting alone at a restaurant for almost two hours. it was humiliating and you were pissed, pissed that your own boyfriend of over a year had stood you up.
he was apologetic at first, but seeing how you were still angry with him and refused to accept his apology, he too grew angry. you didn’t even want to sleep in the same bed as him, so you opted for the couch instead. you got a horrible night of rest, resulting in your exhaustion at work.
“fine,” you lied.
kei gave you a look. you and him were close enough for him to know that you were lying.
“jae and i got into a little fight,” you said, trying to be as casual about it as possible. “it’s fine. it’s not a big deal. it’s stupid.”
“i’m sorry,” kei said. “what’d he do?”
you chortled.
“what makes you think he did something wrong instead of me?” you wondered.
kei shrugged. “just a feeling.”
sighing, you shook your head and said, “he stood me up.”
“wow,” kei scoffed. “what was his excuse?”
you laughed dryly.
“he forgot,” you answered.
“he forgot?” kei repeated. “how the hell do you just forget that you have a date with your partner?”
you turned back to the printer, finding that it had finished sometime while you were talking to kei.
“i don’t know,” you mumbled, the sadness and anger of it all hitting you again. “but he did.”
“i’m sorry,” kei said, suddenly from behind you. he planted a warm, comforting hand on your shoulder. “you know you don’t deserve that, right?”
you shrugged, feeling at ease under his reassuring touch.
“it is what is is.”
you collected your papers, thanked kei for the coffee, and made your way back to your desk.
-
“guess what?”
you looked up from your desk and were met with kei, an excited smile on his handsome face.
it was friday now, and you were glad. the work week seemed to have dragged on and on and you needed a weekend to do absolutely nothing and recover from it all.
“what?” you asked, mirroring his smile.
“some of us are gonna get drinks after work,” he informed, “and you have to come.”
“oh, i have to?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
“yes, you have to because i won’t want to go if you’re not there,” kei explained, fidgeting with one of the stray pens sitting on your desk.
“the sacrifices i make for you,” you replied. “but fine, i’ll go.”
“thank you,” he said, delighted.
“you’re welcome.”
as he walked away, you craned your neck to watch him go. only when he turned his head to meet your gaze did you immediately turn back to your desk, embarrassed about being caught.
the truth was, you might’ve had a little, tiny dumb crush on kei. but you didn’t think much of it. most of the girls in the office had crushes on kei because it was hard not to.
he was funny, charming, kind, and unbelievably good looking. far too good looking to be working in an office.
and out of all the people that you guys worked with, you were closest to each other. some of your other coworkers even liked to joke that he was your “work husband” and you were his “work wife,” which was stupid because you had a long term boyfriend.
but you never stopped them either. you didn’t exactly mind being called his work wife. you knew it was dumb, nothing serious.
-
although you were sitting in a booth with a handful of your coworkers, you and kei found yourself in your own little bubble next to each other. neither of you were engaging much with the conversation occurring around you, but rather with each other instead.
“how’s everything with jae?” kei asked, glancing at you before staring down into his drink.
you sighed.
“it’s fine now,” you said unconvincingly. “just have to let things go sometimes, you know?”
“not really,” kei replied. you looked at him with a singular raised brow. “i mean, its not cool that he stood you up. this isn’t just some random guy, it’s your long term boyfriend.”
“i know that,” you said. “obviously i’m not happy about it, but what i supposed to do?”
kei didn’t say anything. you took a large swig of your drink, gulping down the rest of it.
“do you want another drink?” he asked.
“no,” you said. “i should probably get home soon anyway.”
kei nodded.
“can i give you a ride?” he asked.
“please.”
the two of you said goodbye to your coworkers, then left the bar together. you followed kei to his car, wrapping your arms around yourself to keep warm from the sharp, cold air.
kei opened the passenger side door for you before making his way around to the drivers seat.
he placed his hand on the back of your seat, turning his head to make sure there were no cars behind him before reversing out of his space and starting the drive to your apartment.
“are you doing anything this weekend?” you wondered.
kei hesitated.
“kinda,” he eventually answered. “i have a date tomorrow.”
“oh?”
“yeah,” he responded, shrugging. “it’s whatever. just dinner and drinks. i’m not expecting much to come of it.”
you almost didn’t even hear him because you were so distracted watching him drive. his serious face as he focused on the road, the way the streetlights reflected in different colors onto his skin, the way he gripped the steering wheel with one hand and kept the other on the gear stick.
“why not?” you wondered.
he pulled up to a red light and stopped, looking over at you.
“she doesn’t seem like my type,” he told you.
“what’s your type?”
kei pondered for a moment, stroking his chin.
“funny girls,” he said, then continued. “hardworking, smart, sassy.”
you weren’t sure why you were ticking off the boxes in your head as to whether or not you fit those descriptors. why did it matter to you? you were already taken. it was like you had to remind yourself of that.
the light turned green, so kei turned his attention back to the road and began driving again.
“well, how do you know she isn’t any of those things?” you wondered.
“i’ve met her once,” he said. “we have a mutual friend. i don’t know, she just didn’t stand out to me.”
for the rest of the car ride, which was only a few more minutes, neither of you said much else.
he pulled into the parking lot of your apartment complex, putting the car in park.
“thanks for the ride,” you said, gathering your purse and any other belongings you had.
“thanks for coming out,” he said, eyes twinkling in the dark.
you opened the door and climbed out.
before you closed the door behind you, you said, “i hope your date goes well tomorrow.”
he chuckled at that, like you were telling him a joke.
“i’ll tell you all about it on monday.”
“can’t wait,” you said.
then, finally, you closed the door and walked inside.
-
as always, the weekend flew by and you were back at work early monday morning.
you were so focused on the screen of your computer, doing your work, that you almost didn’t notice kei making his way over to your desk like he so often did.
“morning,” he said, leaning against your desk.
“good morning,” you said, taking in his always alarmingly good looking appearance. “wow, you’re glowing. i take it your date went well?”
he laughed at that, which made you smile, proud to have earned a reaction from him.
“not at all,” he said. “she was none of the things i was telling you about the other night.”
“oh,” you said, relieved for some reason that it hadn’t gone well. “i’m sorry.”
“it’s okay,” he said. “i just couldn’t help but feel like i was holding her to some higher standard, comparing her to someone else that she could never be.”
you frowned.
you wanted to ask what he meant by that, but he was speaking again before you could.
“how was your weekend?”
“it was…”
you trailed off as you thought about your weekend, which wasn’t very good.
you and your boyfriend had rescheduled the date you were meant to go on last weekend, the one where he stood you up, and he’d actually showed up this time.
the dinner was fine, but it was when you got home the problems started arriving.
you went straight to the bedroom together with the intention of having yourselves a long, good, much needed night.
you two were kissing, then making out, then undressing and touching and feeling and he was inside of you.
and then he came.
and then he fell asleep.
you hadn’t cum. you hadn’t even come close to cumming. he left you high and dry, didn’t even think about the possibility of making you finish.
by that point, you were so angry that you didn’t even want to make yourself finish. you didn’t even want to be anywhere near your boyfriend.
you grabbed a pillow from the bed and stormed out to the living room, opting to sleep on the couch once again.
“it was fine,” you told kei.
“liar,” he said, always able to catch you in a lie. “trouble in paradise again?”
“yeah,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. “something like that.”
“i’m sorry,” he said. you looked down at your desk when you realized his hand had brushed against yours, caressing the back of it with his thumb. “you know i’m always here to talk. i’m just a few desks away.”
you smiled softly, forgetting all about jae and the trouble he was causing you when kei was right there in front of you, being as sweet and handsome as he was.
“yeah,” you said. “thanks.”
-
a few hours later you were standing at the dreaded printer again. this time, instead of printing out your paper painfully slow, it wasn’t printing at all.
you’d checked to make sure there was paper in it, you checked the ink levels, and you even unplugged it and plugged it back in. but it wouldn’t budge.
just as you were about to start kicking the old machine in frustration, kei walked in, the door shutting behind him.
“oh,” he said. “hey.”
“yeah, hey,” you muttered in annoyance.
“what’s wrong?” he wondered.
“this printer,” you told him. “this is a multi-million dollar company and yet our printer seems to be from the 1800s. i mean, god, this thing is enough to make me want to quit!”
“hey, hey,” kei cooed, suddenly standing closely behind you. he pressed his hand onto your shoulder the way he did when he was trying to comfort you. “it’s okay. let me see, maybe i can fix it.”
you took a deep breath, not realizing how worked it up it’d made you.
he stayed standing behind you as he fumbled around with the printer, his arms reaching around your shoulders. you could feel his body heat radiating into you, his breath warm on the back of your neck.
“i’m sorry,” you mumbled, shaking your head in embarrassment while he worked. “i’m just stressed, i guess. everything with jae and all.”
“what happened?” kei asked, eyebrows furrowed as he browsed the printer settings.
“you don’t wanna know,” you said.
“try me.”
“he couldn’t make me finish,” you told him.
kei tensed, movements halting. he glanced down at you, eyebrows raising in surprise.
kei went back to fidgeting with the printer, but you could feel it when he pressed his body a little closer to yours, leaving little to no room between you and him.
“he…” you exhaled, nervous to be so close to him. “he fell asleep.”
kei chuckled, and you felt the heat of his breath again on your skin. although it was warm, it gave you chills, your entire body shuddering.
“he fell asleep,” kei repeated.
you realized then that he’d given up on the printer. he had no excuse to be so close to you now, no excuse to be pressed against you with his arms around your shoulders.
“yeah,” you said in a whisper.
“why are you still with him?” kei asked, his voice quiet and deep in your ear. “why stay with a man who doesn’t even care if you cum or not?”
kei’s hands were on your shoulders, then trailing down your arms and landing on your hips.
“i—i don’t-”
“why not be with someone who wants to make you feel good?” kei said.
your breath hitched in your throat as you finally felt it.
it was unmistakable, his cock hard as it dug into your backside. you couldn’t believe it, that you had the power to turn him on. and you couldn’t believe that you liked it, that you liked the feeling of being able to arouse another man who wasn’t your boyfriend.
“i want to be,” you said, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could process them. “i want to feel good.”
kei pushed some of your hair out of the way and leaned forward to plant a soft kiss on the back of your neck, ever so slowly and carefully shifting his hips forward against you.
“you deserve to,” he said, his lips pressing harder into your goosebump covered skin. “will you let me?”
you gulped.
“let you what?” you asked.
“let me make you feel good.”
one of his hands was slowly moving from your hip to the front of your stomach, then down to your pelvis.
“what about…” you trailed off as his hand landed on your covered pussy, not moving, but just resting there. “w-what about-”
“your boyfriend?” kei asked, finishing what you couldn’t say. “your boyfriend who couldn’t give a shit about whether or not you cum? your boyfriend who left you by yourself in a restaurant for hours because he forgot?”
kei’s words reminded you of how angry you were at your boyfriend and the state of your relationship. he was right in that you did deserve to cum.
“please, kei,” you whimpered, leaning back into his chest. “i want it.”
you could feel him smirk against your neck, and he began rubbing your cunt over your pants. you gasped just at the feeing of that alone, searching for something to grasp, and finding his other hand on your hip.
“gonna make you feel so good,” he promised, fingers rubbing slow, clean circles on you. “gonna make you cum, i promise.”
you struggled to keep your eyes open, the pleasure already too good, but you managed to glance over at the door. it was closed, yes, but unlocked. there wasn’t a lock on it, even if you did want to lock it, and that admittedly scared you. anyone could’ve walked in and seen what you were getting up to with kei.
and although that made you nervous, you were already too far gone to care.
suddenly, kei pried his hands off of you, and just when you were about to ask him why, he sank to his knees on the tiled floor and began unbuttoning your pants.
he was quick to pull you out of your pants and underwear. you couldn’t believe you were half naked at your place of work in front of someone who wasn’t your boyfriend. and not just someone, but kei, your “work husband.”
you guessed it only made sense that it would be him.
“fuck,” he said at just the sight of your bare pussy in front of him, ready and waiting for him to devour. “so fucking pretty.”
he sat up on his on his knees and spread your legs as much as he could for you in the position you were standing in, leaning back against the printer. then, he leaned in and licked a long, firm stripe up your cunt.
“oh, fuck!” you yelped, then immediately slapped a hand over your mouth to shut yourself up.
kei moaned into your pussy, his tongue starting at a fast pace right from the start. it was heavy between your folds and consistently he slid it up and down, in circles, and other random shapes you couldn’t make out.
he grabbed one of your shins and urged you to lift a leg up, to rest one of them on his shoulder so he could get his face even deeper in your pussy.
you bit your lip hard enough that it would almost certainly bruise later, trying with all your strength not to scream at how good it felt.
you didn’t get it. you didn’t know what he was doing. you’d received head before many times. never from him, of course, but your boyfriend and the men that came before him.
but never in your life had you received head like this. there was something different about the way kei did it, something that had your legs shaking and your pussy dripping all over the printer room floor.
you dug both your hands into his hair, pushing his head harder into your cunt. you couldn’t think straight, you were so fucked out, so eager and desperate to cum for him.
his tongue lapped away at the absolute mess your cunt was making, your sopping wet folds and your puffy clit. the sound of it was beyond vulgar. if anyone pressed their ear to the door, they would know what you two were doing. and if they walked in, they would see it. they’d see you half straddling kei’s face, his head buried between your legs.
your let out a choked sob, pulling his hair because you didn’t know what else to do. he was pushing you closer and closer to your orgasm, his tongue slippery and hitting every perfect spot on your pussy. you couldn’t handle it.
luckily, he didn’t seem to mind or even notice that you were on the brink of losing your mind from the pleasure. or if he did notice, he didn’t say anything. didn’t say anything about your bucking hips, or the way you tried to shove more of your pussy into his mouth, so out of it and lost in a haze of immense euphoria.
your clit twitched whenever he took it between his lips, sucking on it and kissing it, practically even making out with it. you could feel the arousal dripping from your empty hole and landing in his mouth, where he swallowed it like a drink.
you closed your thighs around his face, cradling the back of his head, almost entirely sitting on his face by that point.
“kei!” you cried out, chest heaving. “i’m so f—fucking close, oh my god.”
all he did was hum in response, which vibrated into you and pushed you that much closer.
you were absolutely writhing, body trembling as he swirled his tongue around your hole, drinking all your wetness before making his way back up to your clit. he repeated that cycle numerous times until eventually, the rubber band in your stomach snapped.
you bit the back of your hand because you were sure you would’ve screamed if not. you released all over kei’s face, walls contracting and pulsing around his tongue. he eagerly ate your cunt through your orgasm, helping you ride it out until you were done, practically on the brink of passing out of the floor.
he licked you clean, then helped slide your panties and pants back up your shaking legs. he stood up, brushing some of the dust off his pants.
his lips were glistening with your wetness, your arousal, your cum. you’d just came on another man’s face, a man who wasn’t your boyfriend.
kei wiped his lips with the back of his hand, and then the two of you just stood there staring at each other. neither of you knew what to say after what’d you just done.
“thank you,” you finally said, breaking the silence.
seriously? you thought to yourself. that was the best you could come up with?
“um,” kei began, “you’re welcome.”
“well,” you cleared your throat, pushing some of your hair out of your face. “i’m gonna go back to my desk.”
“right,” kei said.
you promptly exited the printer room, and were back in the shared space where your other coworkers were, typing away at their desks.
you carefully and quietly walked by them, hoping to god they didn’t hear anything when you were in the printer room with kei, getting the head of a lifetime.
you found your desk and sat down, taking a long, much needed deep breath.
then, your gaze drifted over to the picture frame you had in the corner of your desk. it was a picture of you and your boyfriend from last year at the beach together, smiling happily.
your heart sank as you came to terms with what you’d just done. you’d cheated on him.
and you had to go home in less than 3 hours and face him.
-
much to your luck, the apartment was actually empty when you got home. you weren’t sure where your boyfriend was, but you guessed he was out with friends or staying late at work.
either way, you were relieved to have some time to figure out what to do.
the first thing you did was shower, rinsing the smell of kei off of you. as you washed your body, hot water streaming down your skin, you thought about him.
you thought about him pressed against you at the printer, his body firm, warm, and hard against yours. you though of how it felt when he kissed the back of your neck, his hand trailing down to your cunt.
you thought of him between your legs, eyes closed as he lapped at your pussy, making you cum since your boyfriend wouldn’t.
just the thought of it had you squeezing your legs together in the shower, getting yourself worked up all over again.
you got out of the shower then, made yourself a quick and easy dinner, then got in bed.
just when you were getting ready to drift off to sleep, you heard the front door open and close. you heard footsteps approaching the bedroom door, and the bedroom door slowly opened.
your boyfriend got ready for bed quietly. he stripped out of his daytime clothes and into pajamas, then got into bed beside you.
“you awake?” he asked.
your back was towards him, so he couldn’t see your face. he couldn’t see that your eyes were open. you weren’t sure what to say, if you were up for talking to him.
but for whatever reason, your mouth started talking before your brain could.
“yes,” you said quietly.
jae’s head turned to face you, even though you were facing the other way.
“oh,” he said, surprised that you were awake.
“where were you?” you wondered.
“got some drinks after work with a few coworkers,” he explained, which was what you figured. “did you have a good day at work?”
you swallowed harshly, reminiscing once again about your day at work.
“yeah,” you sputtered out. “it was fine. nothing crazy.”
“well that’s good,” he said. “right?”
“yeah, of course it is,” you said. “it’s always good when it’s a nice, easy day.”
you flinched when, all of the sudden, jae reached out, grazing your shoulder with his fingertips.
“hey,” he said, retreating his hand. “what’s wrong?”
“nothing,” you said, shaking your head. “i’m just tired. i don’t wanna do anything tonight.”
“i wasn’t trying to do anything,” jae said, defensive in his tone. “can a guy not touch his girlfriend anymore?”
you sighed, closing your eyes. you also heard him sigh, but you could tell it was in frustration and annoyance.
he turned off the lamp next to the bed, and rolled onto his side away from you.
that night, all you could think about was how you wished it were kei there beside you in your bed. you wished you were in his arms, safe and warm.
-
you were anxious heading into the office the next day. as much as you had been thinking about kei, you were terrified to see him.
you kept your head down when you got to the floor your office was on, quickly shuffling over to your desk without saying a word to anyone.
your view was slightly obstructed from your desk, but from the looks of it, it didn’t seem like kei was at his, that he wasn’t in yet.
that relieved you a bit, to know that you at least had some time to mentally prepare before he got there. you couldn’t just ignore him, you knew that. he was one of your close friends, and apparently something more now, and you didn’t want to lose that after just one little unexplainable mishap in the printer room.
you decided to distract yourself with work, which was why you were there after all. you certainly weren’t at work to be getting head from your coworker, you knew that much.
you were engrossed in your computer a few minutes later, but you eventually heard his voice. you heard him greeting some of the others, laughing with one of them, unmistakably kei.
his voice got closer and closer until he made it over to your desk. you expected him to stop like he always did. he always stopped at your desk and talked with you a bit before heading to his own and getting some work done.
but he didn’t.
he didn’t blatantly ignore you. he hit you with a polite, professional “good morning,” and continued on his way to his desk. he greeted you just like you were anybody else.
you felt your shoulders slump, caving in on yourself.
what the hell was that? why was he being short with you, when you thought it was supposed to be the other way around? was he regretting what happened?
your anxiety was back.
you turned and poked your head out of your desk area to try and see if you could see him, but he was completely out of your sight.
you sighed, shaking your head as you went back to your work because there was nothing else you could do.
-
for the rest of the workday, you and kei didn’t interact. you left the office first without saying goodbye. the next morning, he came in after you and didn’t even bid you a good morning that time.
it was a true game of ignoring each other.
but then friday rolled around.
most of the office left early on fridays, too eager to start their weekends. but you didn’t feel like going home. all week, there’d been tension between you and jae and the last thing you felt like dealing with was him.
so, by 5 p.m. that friday, everyone was mostly gone. only a few stragglers remained, including yourself, and you found yourself in the break room.
you weren’t taking a break, which was the designated purpose of the room, obviously. rather, you were cleaning it. someone had to do it, and by the looks of it, it had been a while.
you knew things were bad for you since you were voluntarily cleaning your office’s break room on a friday night.
you were clearing out one of the cabinets when you heard the door open behind you. you glanced over your shoulder, not expecting to find kei there of all people.
for a moment, you both just stared blankly at each other. you were unsure if he was going to speak, and he was unsure if you were going to. it was like you both were waiting for the other one to break the silence first.
eventually, it was kei.
“stress cleaning?” he asked you, setting his coffee mug in the sink.
you hummed.
“i guess i am,” you answered.
he leaned against the counter with his arms crossed, watching you wipe down the shelves in the cabinet. for a moment, that was all he did, just watched in silence.
then, he said, “are we still ignoring each other?”
“i don’t know,” you replied. “are we?”
“are you mad?” he asked.
“are you?”
“stop answering questions with questions,” he said firmly. “tell me how you feel.”
you huffed, setting the rag down and giving him your full attention.
“i feel bad, kei,” you told him. “i feel bad because you’re all i can think about after what we did, and i feel bad because i cheated on my boyfriend. but i also feel bad because being around him lately has been awful. everything just sucks, okay? so that’s how i feel.”
kei didn’t say anything for a moment. but then, he took a step towards you, his eyes reassuring.
“can i hug you?” he asked.
you hesitated, gaze drifting to the floor. and then you nodded, and he enveloped you in his arms.
his scent infiltrated your lungs, his delicious smelling cologne that made you want him all over again. he rubbed your back, chin resting on top of your head.
“i’m sorry,” he said. “i’m sorry i ignored you. i just wasn’t sure how to act, you know?”
“yeah,” you muttered into his chest. “kei?”
“hm?”
“do you regret it?” you wondered, and braced yourself for his answer.
he pulled back from the hug but stayed close, his hands on your shoulders.
“no,” he answered. “not at all. do you?”
you gulped, shaking your head.
“no,” you said in a whisper. “i should, but i don’t. it felt so good. it felt right.”
“it did, didn’t it?” he remarked, bringing his hand up to your face.
he caressed your cheek, thumb swiping back and forth on your blushing skin. you leaned into his touch, looking up at him with big, pleading eyes.
“i would do it again,” he said softly.
“me too,” you said. “i would do more.”
“yeah?” he said breathily. “what else would you do?”
you weren’t sure how you got there, but you were backed up against the table now, the table where people sat and ate when they were taking their breaks. you were trapped with kei in front of you.
“i’d let you fuck me on this table,” you told him, exhaling, “right now.”
kei barely went a second before catching your lips in his, kissing you passionately. you absolutely melted at the feeling, having missed being close to him in such a way despite it only having been a few days.
like you’d said, it felt right. it felt like this was how it was always supposed to be—kei kissing you with a fiery, burning passion in the break room.
he hoisted you up onto the table and stood between your legs, pressing his body weight into you. you could feel that warmth coming from a him, a warmth that felt like safety. you weren’t sure what that meant, but you liked it. you wanted more.
you tugged him even closer by the collar of his shirt, your chests coming together. he brought his hand up to your chest and began unbuttoning your blouse until eventually the red lacy bra was right there on display just for him.
“so pretty,” he whispered against your lips. “just for me.”
“just for you,” you confirmed.
he kissed you harder, his tongue snaking into your mouth. you eagerly accepted the intrusion and rubbed yours against his, moaning at the taste and feeling of him in such a lewd way, a way that two coworkers should be feeling each other.
he cupped one of your tits over your bra, fondling the weight in the palm of his hand.
as pretty as he thought the bra was and how pretty you looked in it, he wanted it off. he wanted to see the jewels that were hiding underneath.
with skilled and evidently experienced fingers, he unhooked your bra and let it slide down your arms, revealing your bare chest to him.
for a moment, all he could do was stare in awe at what he was seeing. the sight of you perched up on that table, no shirt, hair a mess, lips swollen, was enough to make him twitch in his pants. he thought you looked so good, he almost wanted to take a picture—a picture that he’d send to your boyfriend, to show him what he was missing.
yeah, kei really liked the thought of that. he barely even knew your boyfriend, maybe met him once at some work event or something, but he knew he didn’t like him. what he wouldn’t give to take a picture of you like this, or even take a video of himself fucking you to show your pathetic boyfriend. to show that you liked someone else, that you liked getting fucked by someone else.
kei finally brought his mouth down to your chest, wrapping his lips around one of the hardened buds. you sighed in contentment, bringing your hand up to cradle the back of his head.
he let his eyes flutter shut, bringing his hand up to your other tit. he just barely grazed the pad of his finger over your hard nipple, softly rubbing it in tiny circles. you arched your back, pushing your chest further against him.
with his focus directed to your tits, you glanced over at the door. it was closed, unlocked, much like the situation in the printer room. you knew the office was nearly empty, but it was still possible that someone could walk in.
because of that, you tried to keep your voice down. you tried not to moan every time kei slid his tongue over your nipple, or pinched it gently between his fingers. but it wasn’t easy. somehow, he seemed to know exactly what to do to make you squirm.
his hand shifted from your tit and started making its way down the front of your body, running over your clothed pussy. you gasped at just the feeling of his fingers brushing over you, already so sensitive.
he unbuttoned your pants and slid them down your legs, your panties quick to follow. it was slightly embarrassing to be completely naked in front of him while he was still fully dressed. your cheeks flushed, and you felt the urge to cover yourself up.
you turned your head to the side, too nervous and shy to make eye contact with him.
“hey,” he cooed, tilting your head back to face him. “don’t be shy. it’s just me.”
“its not just you,” you mumbled, staring down.
“what do you mean?” he asked, caressing your face comfortingly.
“i don’t know,” you said. “you’re you. and you’re like…perfect.”
kei laughed breathily.
“if anyone is perfect here, it’s you,” he remarked, his hand moving down your face, to your jaw, to your shoulder. “i mean, look at you. i can’t even believe you’re in front of me like this right now.”
you wrapped your arms around yourself.
“can you…you know,” you trailed off. “can you get naked, too?”
he smiled, kissing your forehead. wordlessly, he began unbuttoning his shirt, which left him in just a white tank top underneath. but then that was next to go, followed by his pants and his underwear, which left him just as naked as you.
you eyes trailed down his body, taking in the sight of his chiseled abs, muscles beautifully defined. you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out, dragging your hand down his abdomen.
kei hummed, like he was getting pleasure just from you trailing your fingers down his abs.
your hand continued traveling south, your eyes following until they landed on his cock, which stood tall and hard and quite frankly, huge.
it was easily the prettiest dick you’d ever seen, and that was fitting since kei was so pretty himself. it was long, a pretty vein running up the side, and his pink tip was dribbling pre cum, eager to be touched. luckily, you were just as eager to touch it.
you wrapped your fingers around it, slowly starting to stroke it up and down. kei hissed, watching your hand glide over him.
“yeah,” he whispered under his breath. “fuck—wanna fuck you so bad.”
you spread your legs just a little more and looked up at him through your eyelashes.
“so, go ahead,” you said.
you removed your hand from his length to place it on the table, holding yourself up. kei lined his tip up with your soaking entrance, and slowly began to push in.
the moan you released was loud, riskily loud. you slapped a hand over your mouth to shut yourself up, but you just couldn’t help it. just the feeling of him entering you, slowly stretching you out, was amazing.
he took a deep breath in and kept pushing and pushing until he finally bottomed out inside you. at that point, he had to stop and close his eyes, calm himself down so he didn’t cum too early. you just felt too good. your pussy was too warm, too wet, too perfect.
he found your hand on the table and placed his on top of it.
“you okay?” he asked gently.
“mmm, yeah,” you responded. “need you to move, please. need you to fuck me.”
kei bit his lip, pulled out halfway, then thrusted back in, slow and deep. you could feel him so well, feel every inch of him inside of you stretching you out, and you loved it. you couldn’t believe how much you loved it, how good it felt just to have him inside you, even not moving.
his pace gradually got faster, and eventually he was going fast enough that the table shifted with each thrust. you threw your head back, moaning shamelessly behind you hand, your legs dangling around his hips.
“so fucking perfect,” kei groaned through heavy breaths. “never wanna stop fucking you.”
the sound of your skin slapping together filled the small break room. it was lewd and wrong, of course, but god, it felt so fucking good. he fucked you with all his energy and passion, and it showed.
eventually, he was slamming his hips into you and his cock finally hit that deep, spongy spot in your cunt, and it made you absolutely lose your mind.
“fuck, kei!” you shouted, moving your hand from your mouth to scratch down his arm. “right there, right there! don’t stop.”
kei moaned, successfully railing into your g-spot over and over and your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your body bouncing from how hard he fucked you.
“fuck, take it, baby. taking this cock so well.”
your cunt clenched around him, legs squeezing his hips. you were already trembling from the pleasure, as it was too intense, yet you didn’t want to end. you never wanted it to end.
“kei,” you practically sobbed. “it feels so f-fucking good.”
“awh, i know, sweetheart,” he cooed, slowing his pace significantly but still fucking you nice and deep and hard. “feels good to finally get some good dick, yeah? i’m so much better than him, baby. i make you feel so much better, isn’t that right?”
his tone was so sweet, so gentle, yet his words were mean directed to your boyfriend, who you’d managed to forget about for the time being. you were so fixated on kei and what you were doing with him.
“say it, baby,” kei urged. “say i make you feel better than him.”
with the slower pace he was going, you were able to catch your breath for a moment, to regain some consciousness. what kei was asking you to do felt wrong, even though what you were already doing with him was so much worse.
“kei,” you sighed, looking up at him.
his face was serious, his eyes dark as he stared down at you.
“say it,” he said, bringing his hand up to caress your cheek again. “i know you feel that way. there’s so harm in admitting it.”
his thrusts started speeding back up again, his cock moving like a piston in your tight pussy. you cried out, tilting your head back.
“fuck!” you moaned, tits bouncing in his face from his hard thrust. “you’re so much better than him, kei—shit! so much better.”
“that’s it,” he approved, squeezing your hand in satisfaction. “that’s my sweet girl.”
my. my sweet girl. you liked the way it sounded, the idea of being his.
mindlessly, your gaze drifted over to the door again. still closed, still unlocked for anyone to come in and see, and at that point, you were so far gone and fucked out that you wouldn’t even care if someone walked in.
you bet they’d be jealous. all the men in the office wanted you and all the women wanted kei. regardless who it would be if someone were to walk in, they’d be jealous, but more than that, they’d be shocked. they’d be shocked to see you getting the pounding of a lifetime right there on the break room table where they sat and drank coffee everyday of the week.
you found yourself moaning, clenching around kei at just the thought. you really were so far gone, almost wanting to get caught.
“i’m close, kei,” you warned.
“fuck, me too,” he said. “come here.”
he slowed back down again, thrusting at a more sustainable speed. he brought you into his chest, your head resting against his abs. he moved some of the hairs out of your face.
“where do you want me to cum?” he asked you, his tip brushing your g-spot with every thrust.
immediately, you mind went: inside. you knew you shouldn’t let him, but you really, really wanted to feel it. you wanted nothing more than for kei’s hot cum to fill you up and flood your insides.
“inside,” you told him, looking up at him from where your head lay. “need it so bad.”
kei hummed, snapping his hips harshly once again. he spread your legs wide so that your feet were resting on the table, and he slammed into you the hardest and fastest that’d he’d gone so far. he had a clear view now if he looked down of his cock going in and out of you, and it was a sight to see. a sight he wanted to see again and again and again.
“kei!” you yelped, your upper body giving out on you so you laid flat on the table. “don’t stop, don’t fucking stop, please!”
kei groaned, nearly growling as he chased his high and chased yours for you. he looked so hot, his hair falling into his face, droplets of sweat dripping down his body, his abs and muscles more defined than ever from how hard he was working.
the sight of him alone could make you cum untouched, but the fact that his cock was inside you made it all that much better.
his thrusts grew messier and rougher by the second and the excitement that he was about to cum was enough to send you over the finish line.
you nearly screamed, your body going rigid as your high finally crashed down on you, like lightning striking a tree.
you clenched and pulsated around kei’s cock, and watching you come undone beneath him sent him over the edge as well.
“fuck, i’m cumming,” he warned, body tensing.
he shot his load deep into your cunt, thick ropes of hot, sticky white cum, sure to stain your insides. you’d never be able to hide it from your boyfriend, and that was kei’s goal.
he threw his head back, just barely jutting his hips forward to nurse his orgasm as long as he could, ensuring every last drop of his cum was out of him and inside you. the sexiest sounds you’d ever heard came from him, low moans and heavy breaths.
after a moment, he slowly pulled out. you both exhaled, and you could already feel yourself missing him inside you, being that close to you. his cum stuffed inside was going to have to be enough for now.
the two of you caught your breaths for a few minutes, then without meeting each others eyes, started getting redressed.
“that was…” kei trailed off, watching you button your blouse back up.
“really good,” you finished.
you grabbed a paper towel and some cleaning spray, and began wiping down the table you’d just gotten fucked on.
“yeah,” he agreed, fixing his tie. “it was. i just—”
suddenly, the door opened. you and kei both jumped, your heads turning to the door so fast it nearly gave you guys whiplash.
there, your boss stood, smiling politely at the two of you.
“oops, didn’t mean to startle you guys,” she said, walking in without a care. “i didn’t think anyone was still there. actually, what are you guys still doing here? work ended an hour ago.”
you and kei exchanged nervous glances while your boss rummaged around in the fridge for something.
“just cleaning,” you remarked, holding up the paper towel and spray as evidence.
“well, that’s awfully nice of you,” your boss answered, shutting the fridge door. she stood still for a moment, a frown forming on her face. “is it hot in here?”
you gulped. kei blinked.
“i’m freezing, actually,” he answered.
“yeah, i’ve been cold all day,” you lied.
“huh,” your boss said. then, she shrugged. “well, i’m heading off now, so be sure to lock up behind you. have a nice weekend, you two!”
like that, she was off, leaving you and kei alone again.
“so,” you exhaled, tossing the paper towel in the trash. “what were you saying?”
kei pondered for a moment, like he was going to say something, but ultimately, he decided against it.
“nothing important,” he said. “c’mon, i’ll walk you to your car.”
you turned the light off in the break room, then retreated to your desks to grab your belongings.
side by side, you guys headed toward the exit, shutting off the office lights behind you since you knew you were the last ones to leave.
in the parking lot, kei walked you to your car. it was dark out by then, the air cold with wind that pierced your skin.
at your car, he loomed over you, his height both intimidating and comforting. there was a look on his face, but you couldn’t tell what it was, what it meant.
“kei,” you said. “just say whatever it is you have to say.”
kei sighed, his gaze landing at your shoes. it took him a moment, but he managed to muster up the courage to finally just say it.
he met your gaze again, holding it firmly.
“leave him.”
your expression fell.
“what?” you said.
“leave him,” kei repeated. “i don’t want you to be with him. i want to be with you. it should be me and you know it.”
you gulped, looking away, but kei refused. he grabbed your chin and directed your face back to him.
“kei, i—”
“y/n,” he said sternly. “i love you. and i know you love me too. so leave him.”
your heart stammered, your eyes twinkling up at him. you could feel your face warm.
then, without even thinking about what it meant, you answered, nodding your head.
𝓦HEREIN 𓂃 𓈒𓏸 park sunghoon finally experiences a brazilian woman. so this is what he had been missing?
❪ 4.7k ❫ ｡ 박성훈 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋 𝑖𝑛 fcft !
𝐶ONTAINS. a little plot, making out like the world might end smh, clumsy akward sunghoon x confident reader idol hoon, NSFW TAGS : oral, dry humping, semi public, protected sex, dancing, lap dance kinda, anal play (a bit), multiple orgasms, munch ! sunghoon, mirror sex, one night stand to….?? brazilian reader. for all my brazilian moots (i’m sorry if i got things wrong i wanted it to be no-stereotypes lmk) ── ℳlist
Sunghoon had always prided himself on being the adaptable one in the group. See— he was a pretty cool guy—one who could nail a triple axel and a tiktok trend in the same week. But holy shit, being a kpop idol in 2026 meant your brain was constantly buffering between universes.
One minute you’re in a practice room sweating through choreography, the next you’re dancing to some Brazilian funk beat that your fans end up eating up— until your algorithm basically becomes portuguese.
Sunghoon wasn’t blind— he saw the edits. The fans calling him “brasileiro de coração” even though his blood was about as Brazilian as a kimchi fridge.
They’d flood his lives with “Sunghoon, vem pro Brasil,” and he’d just smile that polite idol smile while internally panicking like, ‘Bro, I can barely speak english without crying. What the fuck am I gonna do with portuguese?’
And now here they were. The 100th show of their career had just wrapped in São Paulo, and the energy had been absolutely hectic — if he chose to forget about the fan wars that had disrupted the performance…
The confetti cannons, the sea of lightsticks waving like a living organism, the way the crowd screamed lyrics back in broken Korean. Wild. They’d earned a few precious days of semi-freedom before the next flight and schedule swallowed them whole again.
Management had them on a loose leash: “Stay together, don’t cause international incidents, and for the love of God, no dating rumors.”
Yeah, right.
The rooftop bar was the first stop— some swanky spot overlooking the city lights with a view that made even Jake whistle low. Music thumped through hidden speakers, half K-pop (because of course the DJ had to show love), half that infectious brazilian beat that made Sunghoon get instant war flashbacks.
He nursed a caipirinha like it was holy water, the lime and cachaça burning just enough to remind him he was very much not in Seoul.
“Hyung, just loosen up,” Jungwon said, elbowing him with a grin. The kid looked way too comfortable in a loose button-up, like he’d been born for tropical nights.
Sunghoon snorted. “I’m calculating how many of these I can drink before I start falling asleep.”
Heeseung leaned over, already a little loose from his own drink. “Oh cmon, fans have been calling you Brazilian Sunghoon for years. Might as well commit, learn the bachata. Or whatever the hell they do here.”
“It’s not bachata, dumbass,” Sunghoon muttered, but he was laughing.
Adaptable my ass. Sunghoon still flinched when people hugged him for longer than three seconds… these people kissed cheeks like it was a handshake. He was gonna short-circuit.
The 7 of them clinked glasses, Riki was already filming sneaky stories (with permission, of course), Jay was discussing the best Brazilian street food with a local staffer, and Sunoo was charming everyone within a five-meter radius. Typical.
A couple hours in, someone suggested ditching the rooftop for somewhere quieter. More private. The kind of bar where the lights were low, the music still pulsed but you could actually hear each other curse without screaming. They piled into cars, security discreetly trailing, and rolled into a tucked-away spot that felt like a secret.
Sunghoon sank into a booth, legs stretched out, the bass vibrating through his bod. His mind was still doing that buffering thing— Korea brain trying to process the heat, the openness, the way Brazilians just lived out loud. No one here cared and it was freeing. Terrifying. Kinda addictive.
Then he saw you.
And his first coherent thought was: Jesus Christ, the universe is laughing at me.
You were moving through the crowd— all beautiful hair bouncing with every step, skin glowing under the colored lights. The kind of girl who probably spoke with her hands and laughed with her whole chest.
Abort mission. Abort. You were laughing at something your friend said and Sunghoon swore your smile had punched him in the solar plexus.
He took another sip of his drink to look busy. Failed. Because of course you caught him staring— your eyes met across the rooftop, and you tilted your head, that playful, knowing smirk appearing like you could read every panicked thought racing through his head.
Fuck. And now you were coming over.
He straightened up, flashing the polite half-smile that worked on fans and variety show hosts alike. Inside, his brain was screaming in three languages: Annyeonghaseyo— wait no—oi, tudo bem?—shit, what’s the Portuguese for ‘I’m fucking terrified’?
Sunghoon felt the shift the second you slid into the booth like you belonged there. No hesitation, no awkward hovering like in common interactions— just pure confidence and a devastating smile. You clearly had zero clue who he was though, to you, he was just some tall, sharp-featured guy nursing a drink in the corner. And that? That made everything ten times more dangerous.
“Ei, tudo bem?” you asked, voice bright and melodic, the Portuguese rolling off your tongue like music. You tilted your head, waiting.
Sunghoon blinked. Zero. I got zero. Why the fuck did I think coming to Brazil without learning more than “obrigado” was a good idea?
He gave you a small, stiff bow out of pure habit. “Uh… hello.”
You laughed, soft and warm, not mocking. “Ah, gringo. Okay, wait—” You switched to broken English, cute as hell but still chaotic. “You… alone? Want company? You look… lonely, but hot. Very hot.”
Jesus effing Christ. His ears burned because he understood enough to feel his stomach flip. He stood there like a statue, nodding politely, lips pressed in that classic awkward half-smile.
You tried again, gesturing between you two. “Dance? Drink? You… speak English?”
Sunghoon shook his head slowly, feeling like the world’s most useless man. Great.
You let out a dramatic sigh, then muttered under your breath in Portuguese, “Porra, complicado pra caralho… Ah, whatever. Too complicated for me.” You started to turn away with a little shrug, still smiling like it was no big deal.
Before you could fully bail, Sunghoon fumbled his phone out, thumbs flying. He typed into Google translate and turned it toward you: “Do you need help?”
You paused, read it, and burst out laughing— full, bright, head-tilted-back laughter that made your hair bounce. “Ai meu Deus, you’re using the translator? That’s cute. Okay, okay.”
You leaned in a little closer to read the screen better, your perfume hitting him like a warm wave— something sweet and spicy and Sunghoon’s brain short-circuited again.
Abort. Do not flirt. You are literally in Brazil for a show. Do. Not. Flirt.
But you were already typing on your own phone, holding it up with a playful grin. “I saw you staring. You have nice eyes. Want to talk or you scared?”
He read it, then typed back quickly, cheeks heating up. “Not scared. Just bad at languages. You’re very lively.”
You snorted after reading his response, clearly amused. “Lively? I’m fun, you mean. You’re stiff like a mannequin, but it’s kinda hot. Mysterious guy vibes.”
You went back and forth like that for a bit— Google translate doing the heavy lifting while you kept laughing at his overly polite translations and he slowly loosened up. You told him (through the app) your name was Y/n, that you were here with friends celebrating nothing in particular, and that you looooved making random gringos dance.
He kept his answers short and safe. No name. No idol stuff. Just “visiting for work” and “first time in Brazil.”
Then you typed the question that made his pulse spike: “You want to dance with me?”
Sunghoon stared at the screen for a second. Then he typed back: “yes” cause why the fuck no?
Your whole face lit up. You grabbed his wrist— warm fingers, no hesitation—and pulled him toward the area where people were already moving to the funk beat.
See, at first he was still stiff, trying to find the beat like it was a choreographed stage performance. But you weren’t having it, so you turned around, back against his chest, and started moving— hips rolling slow and confident, one hand reaching back to rest on his thigh like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Holy shit. Okay. Okay.
You glanced over your shoulder with a bubbly grin. “Relax, gringo!” You pressed in closer, guiding his hands to your waist as you danced on him, playful and, completely unselfconscious. Every roll of your hips sent heat straight through him, you were laughing, singing along under your breath, turning to face him so you could loop your arms around his neck for a moment, fingers brushing the hair at his nape.
Sunghoon knew by then that he was fucked.
His hands started moving on their own— still careful, but less robotic—settling on your hips, feeling the way you moved like liquid. The beat dropped harder and you grinned up at him, pressing in closer, one hand sliding down his chest like you were mapping him out.
He swallowed hard, the shy stiffness cracking as a small, genuine smirk finally broke through, his fingers pressing a little firmer into your waist.
The track switched to something dirtier, heavier bass that vibrated straight through your bodies & you didn’t hesitate. You arched your back, pressing your ass back against him in a smooth, unapologetic grind that made his breath hitch.
It wasn’t some over the-top performance —it was just how you danced. Normal. Fun. Brazilians didn’t treat twerking like some forbidden sexual act; it was just movement, rhythm, joy in your body.
And fuck if that didn’t wake something up in him. Not just heat (though there was plenty of that), but a challenge.
You moved like someone who lived without constantly scanning for cameras or judgments. It made his careful, controlled idol shell feel itchy— like maybe he could let it crack for once.
You glanced back at him again, that bubbly smirk in place. Through quick thumbs on your phone you typed: “You’re getting better, gringo. Or are you just enjoying the view back there?”
Sunghoon let out a short laugh despite himself and typed back: “Both.”
You laughed out loud, the sound bright even over the bass, and spun to face him, arms looping around his neck again. Your bodies pressed flush now— chest to chest, hips still moving in sync; one of your hands slid down his side, bold and teasing, while you kept the eye contact that was honestly more dangerous than the dancing.
His own hands dared to roam a little lower, gripping your hips as he finally started matching your energy, less robot, more man who hadn’t had a night off in years.
He risked a glance toward the booth where the members were. Panic hit for half a second— shit, what if they see?—but Heeseung was half-draped over Jay, both of them laughing at something on a phone. Jungwon had his head tipped back, clearly feeling the caipirinhas and Riki and Sunoo were in their own world, unbothered as hell. No one was paying attention to the corner where Sunghoon was lowkey losing his mind with a girl who had no idea who he was.
Fuck it. One night. Just let go.
The dance got hotter. You moved against him without shame, rolling and grinding to the beat, your laughter mixing with little teasing comments typed between songs: “You’re stiff in the shoulders but loose down here… interesting.”
He’d flush, type something dorky back like “Blame the jet lag. Or you.” and you’d reward him by pressing even closer, fingers tracing the edge of his shirt like you were daring him to stop being polite.
By the time the third song ended, you were both breathing heavier and you bodies were slick with light sweat, the air thick between you. You pulled your phone out again, typed, and showed him with a raised eyebrow and that same playful fire in your eyes: “This is getting dangerous. You wanna leave with me?”
Sunghoon read it twice. His heart slammed against his ribs. Yes. No. Fuck yes. He typed back simply: “Yes.”
He shot a quick text to the group chat— something vague about “stepping out for air, don’t wait up”—and caught Jungwon’s eye across the room. The leader just raised an eyebrow, gave a tiny smirk and a lazy thumbs up. The others were too far gone to grill him. Good enough.
You slipped your hand into his and tugged him out of the bar before he could overthink it— th night air hit cool and salty as you both wandered toward the empty stretch of beach nearby, the city lights fading behind you. The sand was still warm from the day, waves whispering in the distance. No crowds. Just moonlight, the occasional distant laugh from the city, and the two of you.
You sat side by side in the sand, shoulders brushing and Google translate stayed open like a nervous third wheel. He typed first: “You’re nothing like people back home. It’s refreshing.”
You read it and bumped his shoulder with yours, typing back with a grin: “Good. You’re too pretty to be so serious all the time. Smile more, gringo. Or I’ll make you.”
The flirting got easier (and cringier) the longer you sat there.
He typed stupid shit like “I’m trying. You make my brain stop working in three languages.”
You fired back “Only three? dang i’m losing my touch.”
Laughter came easier— surely he was still awkward, rubbing the back of his neck, choosing his translated words carefully—but you kept the vibe light, bubbly, pulling him out of his shell with every witty jab.
The tension crept back in slowly— the space between you shrank. Your knee pressed against his thigh and his eyes kept dropping to your lips. You noticed, of course and with zero hesitation, you leaned in, one hand cupping the side of his face, and kissed him first.
It started soft— testing—but the second he kissed you back, it turned messy. Hands in hair, bodies shifting closer in the sand. You tasted like lime and sugar from the drinks, warm and addictive as Sunghoon’s fingers gripped your waist again, pulling you half into his lap as the kiss deepened, tongues and little nips and zero chill. Sand got everywhere but neither of you cared.
It was heated, desperate in that honeymoon-phase way, your bodies remembering exactly how they’d moved on the dance floor but with way less clothing in the way.
You shifted fully into his lap, knees sinking into the cool sand on either side of his thighs, and deepened it with zero hesitation. Your hands slid into his dark hair, tugging just enough to tilt his head back as your tongue traced his bottom lip, demanding entrance. It was fiery, passionate, all heat and hunger— like you kissed the same way you danced: unapologetic, alive, pouring everything into the moment.
Sunghoon’s brain blue-screened.
Holy fuck— He tried to keep up, his hands gripping your hips like an anchor, but his kisses stayed a little stiffer, more controlled. Romantic in that careful, almost scared way he’d learned from the pressure of never fucking up publicly. Soft presses, lingering, a gentle tilt of his head as he cupped your jaw like you were something delicate.
Idol training ran deep: no PDA, keep it private, always aware of eyes that could ruin everything.
He pulled back just a fraction, breathing hard, eyes darting toward the distant city lights and empty beach path. “Wait—someone…” he muttered, the words clumsy even without the translator.
You let out a soft, breathy laugh against his mouth, your voice dropping into English— low, warm, and so fucking pretty it hit him like a punch to the chest. “Loosen up, amor… No one’s here. Just us.”
Goddamn. That voice. The way it curled around the words, husky from the dancing and the heat between you, made something in him snap. The pretty lilt, the confidence, the total lack of shame— it was nothing like the quiet, measured affection he was used to. It melted the last of his stiff nerves.
“Fuck it,” he whispered in korean, more to himself than you, and pulled you back in.
The kiss turned messier. You poured gasoline on it— tongue sliding against his, deep and demanding, nipping at his lip hard enough to draw a low groan from his throat. Your hips rolled down against him instinctively, bodies grinding in the sand like an echo of the dance floor. One of your hands fisted his shirt, the other tangled tighter in his hair, guiding the angle like you owned the moment.
Sunghoon tried. He really did. His kisses stayed a touch more romantic underneath the heat— deep presses mixed with the growing hunger— but your fire was contagious.
He started chasing your tongue with his, letting himself get a little sloppy, a little desperate. Teeth clashing, breaths mingling, sand sticking to your skin where hands wandered under clothes. He was still holding back just a fraction, that cultural wire in his brain screaming about exposure, but your voice kept echoing in his head— loosen up—and it made him press you closer, one hand sliding up your back under your top, fingers splaying across warm skin.
You pulled back for air, lips swollen, eyes dark and sparkling with that same mischief. A quick grin, then you leaned in again, whispering hot against his ear in that pretty accent, “Better…” before diving back into another heated kiss—tongues, little moans, the works.
You didn’t give him time to overthink though— your hips rolled down against his again, slower this time, grinding right where the heat was building hardest. A soft, needy sound escaped you into the kiss and Sunghoon’s grip on your waist tightened hard enough to bruise.
Between messy kisses you pulled back just enough to breathe against his lips, voice low and pretty and wrecked. “What do you like…?” Another slow grind, your mouth brushing his. “Tell me what you like to do.”
Oh god, you were asking him about his hobbies now? While he was rock hard from just a kiss?
Sunghoon’s head was spinning. He chased your lips, kissing you deeper— “This,” he murmured, the word half-lost in the next kiss. “You. Like this.”
You smiled into his mouth, fiery and teasing, tongue sliding against his and the grinding only got heavier. You rocked against him shamelessly, the friction through your clothes driving both of you crazy. His hands roamed— up your sides, under the hem of your top, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts through your bra while you pressed your chest closer to him.
Between heated breaths you pulled back again, eyes dark. “You don’t have girlfriend right?” The words came out a little breathless, that pretty accent wrapping around them like sin. “Tell me. No girlfriend?”
Sunghoon shook his head quickly, almost dizzy. “No— no girlfriend,” he rasped, then yanked you back into another kiss.
This one was all heat. Your tongues tangled messily, your hands sliding down his chest, nails lightly dragging over his shirt before dipping lower, palming him through his pants. He groaned into your mouth, hips bucking up to meet your grinding, one of his hands slipping between you to squeeze your ass and pull you harder against him.
You were gonna kill him. He was supposed to be responsible, and there he was, dry-humping a girl on a public beach like a horny teenager. But your voice—fuck, your voice—
Eventually you slowed just enough to grab your phone with shaky fingers. You typed quickly, turned the screen toward him, still straddling his lap: “Want to go back with me?”
Sunghoon read it, chest heaving. He wanted to. God, he wanted to. But the thought of staff, managers, security, or any of the members showing up at the hotel made ice shoot through his veins. He typed back: “Can’t go to my hotel… complicated. Too many people.”
You read it and gave him that understanding little smirk. You typed again: “My place is nearby. Close. We can walk.”
He nodded, but neither of you moved to get up. The translator got tossed aside in the sand as you leaned back in. The kissing picked up again—deeper, hotter. Your hips kept rolling against him in lazy, teasing grinds while his hands slipped under your top, palms sliding over bare skin, thumbs circling sensitive spots through your bra. You moaned softly into his mouth, one hand palming him firmer through his pants, the other tangled in his hair.
Sunghoon kissed you like he was starving but still trying to be gentle underneath it all— soft bites, lingering presses, romantic little pauses where he just breathed you in—while you poured pure fire back at him. Tongues, grinding, hands everywhere through clothes. Sand stuck to your skin, the waves kept whispering nearby, but nothing else reallymattered.
The walk to your place was made of of stolen kisses and wandering hands; every few steps you’d pull him into another heated kiss under the streetlights, tongues sliding, bodies pressing against random walls like teenagers who couldn’t wait. Sunghoon’s hands never left you —cupping your face one second, gripping your ass the next, his usual careful restraint fraying with every pretty sound you made.
By the time you finally pushed open the door to your small apartment, both of you were breathing hard, lips swollen, clothes rumpled with sand. The second the door clicked shut you were on him again— Sunghoon backed you against the nearest wall, kissing you deep and messy while your hands tugged at his shirt.
Between kisses you pulled back just enough to murmur against his lips, “What do you do for living?” Your accent wrapped around the broken English like velvet, curious but teasing.
Sunghoon froze for half a second. Shit. Truth? No. Can’t. He kissed you again to buy time, then mumbled, “I… work in entertainment. Videos. Content.” It was vague as hell, but it wasn’t a total lie. Close enough.
You hummed, clearly not buying it all the way, that playful smirk curving your lips. “Mmhh… I bet.” You didn’t push. Instead you grabbed his hand and pulled him toward your bedroom, kissing him the whole way like you couldn’t bear even a few seconds apart.
The room was dimly lit by a small lamp, soft and warm, with colorful throws and that same sweet- scent that had been driving him crazy all night.
You pushed him down onto the edge of the bed and climbed straight into his lap— backwards. Your ass settled right against his already aching cock, and you started grinding slow and filthy, rolling your hips in smooth circles that made his eyes roll back.
“Fuck—” Sunghoon groaned, hands flying to your waist. He’d never been handled like this. His limited experience had been vanilla as hell— quiet hotel rooms, polite and quick, always careful not to make too much noise or mess.
But you? You moved like the music was still in your blood, ass pressing and circling against him with perfect pressure, the friction through your clothes pure torture.
And holy shit, he was gonna cum in his pants like a fucking teenager. You were gonna ruin him and he was letting you.
You kept grinding, arching your back so your ass moved beautifully against his lap, teasing, rolling, pressing down harder every time you felt him twitch. Sunghoon’s head fell forward against your shoulder, breathing ragged, fingers digging into your hips as he tried not to lose it too fast. Every roll of your body sent sparks up his spine.
“Too much?” you asked sweetly over your shoulder, still grinding that perfect rhythm.
He couldn’t even answer with words. Instead he flipped you around with a sudden burst of confidence, laying you back on the bed. You let out a surprised laugh that turned into a moan when he hovered over you, kissing down your neck— open-mouthed, sucking lightly, then bolder, teeth grazing your pulse point while his hands pushed your top up.
Fuck being careful.
He kissed lower, exploring. His mouth found your breasts, pushing your bra aside so he could lick and suck at your nipples, experimenting with pressure until you arched into him with a pretty gasp. One hand slid between your legs, rubbing you through your clothes first, then slipping underneath—fingers teasing your folds, circling your clit with growing confidence.
He was clumsy at first, learning what made you moan louder, but the sounds you made fueled him.
“Can I… taste you?” he asked against your stomach, voice hoarse and a little awkward, cheeks flushed. “Please?”
You nodded, eyes dark with want. Sunghoon didn’t need more encouragement. He grabbed your legs, hooking them over his shoulders as he pulled your bottoms and panties off in one eager motion. The sight of you spread open for him made his cock twitch painfully in his pants.
“Fuck, beautiful,” he breathed, more to himself than you. Then he leaned in.
The first lick was tentative, almost reverent— tongue dragging slowly up your folds, but the taste of you hit him like a drug. He groaned loudly against your pussy, the vibration making you shiver, and suddenly he was messy. He licked and sucked with enthusiasm, tongue flicking your clit before dipping inside you, nose buried against you as he ate you out like a mad man.
And the bastard grinned against your heat, eyes half-lidded in pleasure, because pleasuring you was turning him on more than anything he’d ever felt. Every moan you gave him, every roll of your hips against his face, sent sparks straight to his cock.
So this is what he’d been missing? He could stay here forever.
He took his time, making it last. He’d bring you right to the edge— sucking your clit harder, sliding two fingers inside you and curling them just right—then slow down, licking softly, kissing your thighs, letting you come back from the brink. Not to tease you meanly, but because he wanted it to last. Wanted to memorize every sound, every tremble.
“Sunghoon—” you gasped, using the name he’d finally given you earlier, fingers tugging his hair.
He hummed happily and dove back in, messier this time. Tongue fucking into you, then back to your clit, fingers pumping steadily. He edged you twice more, grinning every time you whined and tried to grind against his face for more. The power felt good, but god, the trust felt even better.
Finally he let you tip over. He sucked your clit between his lips, fingers curling against that spot inside you, and you came hard on his tongue— shaking, moaning his name, thighs clamping around his head. But he didn’t stop. He kept going, gentler but still hungry, licking you through the aftershocks, drawing it out until you were oversensitive and laughing breathlessly, physically pushing his head away.
“Enough—fuck, por favor,” you panted, tugging him up.
Sunghoon crawled over you, lips shiny, a dazed, proud little smirk on his face. His cock was still straining in his pants, but he looked happier than he had in months.
You barely had time to catch your breath after pushing his head away when Sunghoon’s eyes darkened with a new kind of hunger.
He flipped you onto your stomach with surprising strength, then pulled your hips up so you were on your hands and knees. The position left you exposed, ass raised toward him, and he groaned at the sight like it was the best thing he’d ever seen.
“Can I… again?” he asked, voice rough and a little clumsy with want.
You arched your back deeper, pushing toward him. “You’re crazy.” you giggled, nodding.
He didn’t need to be told twice— Sunghoon gripped your ass cheeks, spreading you open, and dove in. His tongue dragged slowly from your clit all the way up, tasting every inch of you. The new angle let him bury his face completely, nose pressed against your skin as he licked and sucked with messy enthusiasm. Wet, obscene sounds echoed in the bedroom—his tongue fucking into your pussy, lips sucking on your clit, low groans vibrating against you.
“Taste so good,” he mumbled against your heat, more to himself than you.
He could do this for hours, you were dripping down his chin and he was harder than he’s ever been in his life.
His hands kneaded your ass as he ate you out. Then he got bolder; one palm came down in a light smack on your right cheek. The sharp sound mixed with your moan, and he felt you clench around his tongue. He did it again, a little harder, watching the way your flesh rippled and flushed pink under his hand.
“Like that?” he asked, voice muffled.
“Sim…. ai- more,” you moaned.
The Portuguese made his cock twitch, he could tell you were completely lost in pleasure, not controlling your language anymore. Sunghoon spanked you again, then dove back in even messier, tongue working your clit while two fingers slid deep into your pussy, curling against that perfect spot. His thumb teased higher, circling your tighter hole.
You pushed back against him, encouraging and Sunghoon took the hint. He pressed his thumb against your ass, sliding the tip inside slowly, carefully, watching your reaction the whole time. When you moaned louder and rocked back onto his face, he groaned and pushed a little deeper, fucking you gently with his thumb while his mouth devoured your pussy.
The sensations were overwhelming for both of you. Your legs trembled, the wet heat of his mouth, the stretch of his fingers in your pussy, the light pressure in your ass — it built fast. He edged you, bringing you right to the brink with fast flicks of his tongue, then slowing down to long, lazy licks until you were whining and cursing in Portuguese.
“Por favor… don’t stop…”
But he did stop just long enough to flip the dynamic. After you came hard on his tongue and fingers, shaking and moaning his name, he finally pulled back. His face was shiny, lips swollen, eyes wild.
He gave your ass one last firm spank, then climbed up behind you. “need you. now.”
You nodded eagerly— Sunghoon grabbed a condom from his wallet (always prepared, even if he never expected this), rolled it on with shaky hands, and lined himself up. He pushed in slowly at first, savoring the tight heat, then bottomed out with a deep groan.
“Fuck… you feel incredible.” he groaned in korean.
He started thrusting, hands gripping your hips. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room. He reached around to rub your clit, then got bolder —spanking you between thrusts, watching your ass bounce with every time he drove into you.
After a while you took control again. You pushed him onto his back and climbed over him backwards once more. This time there was no teasin; you positioned his cock at your entrance and sank down slowly, letting him watch everything in the full-length mirror across from the bed.
Sunghoon’s eyes were glued to the reflection. The sight of his cock disappearing inside you, your ass pressing against his pelvis, the way your back arched —it was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen.
“Shit— look at you,” he breathed.
You started riding him in those taunting rolling circles, then bouncing, taking him deep every time. Your hands braced on his thighs for leverage as you moved faster.
“So big… me enche tão perfeito,” you moaned. ‘you fill me so perfectly.’ made him go crazy.
The praise mixed with Portuguese broke him. “Fuck, keep talking,” he groaned, hands slapping your ass lightly as you rode him. “So good— so… fuck.” he was loosing his goddamn mind.
You leaned forward, giving him an even better view in the mirror, and kept riding him like you were made for his cock. “Feels so good… you’re so good.”
Every word sent sparks through him. His hips bucked up to meet you, hands gripping your waist hard enough to leave marks; the mirror reflected everything— your bouncing tits, his cock sliding in and out, the sweat glistening on both your bodies.
You kept praising him between moans, mixing languages: “Isso… assim mesmo… you’re so deep, baby. Feel so good.”
Sunghoon was feral. He sat up, wrapping one arm around you while the other hand rubbed your clit. He kissed your neck, biting down as he thrust up into you harder. The new angle made you both moan louder and the pleasure built fast and overwhelming.
Your moans got higher, breathier. Portuguese spilled from your lips between gasps and it destroyed whatever was left of his control.
Sunghoon had never felt anything like it. You’d completely ruined him for anyone else.
The climax hit both of you like a wave— you came first, crying out as your walls pulsed and fluttered around his cock, body shaking in his tight embrace. The feeling dragged him over the edge right after. He groaned loud and broken against your neck, hips stuttering as he spilled into the condom, holding you impossibly closer like he could fuse you together. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed through him, longer and more intense than anything he’d ever experienced.
For a few long moments the only sounds were heavy breathing— he stayed buried inside you, arms still wrapped around your body, pressing soft reverent kisses along your shoulder and neck as you both came down.
Eventually you shifted, and he pulled out carefully, disposing of the condom before collapsing back onto the bed with you. You curled into his side, head on his chest, one leg thrown over his. The silence was comfortable but a little clumsy — two strangers who had just fucked like they’d known each other for years.
Sunghoon’s fingers traced lazy patterns on your bare back. “That was… so good,” he said softly, still catching his breath.
You smiled against his skin and pressed a kiss to his chest. “Mmh… so much passion hiding behind that shy face.”
He chuckled awkwardly, cheeks warming again. The post-nut clarity was hitting, along with the guilt of not being fully honest. After a few minutes of quiet pillow talk —you asking if he was okay, him complimenting how beautiful you looked when you came —he reached for his phone.
He opened Google translate and typed carefully, then turned the screen toward you.
“I’m a famous person. I didn’t tell you but I think I should let you know.”
You read it, then looked up at him with the most beautiful, soft smile he’d ever seen. Your eyes sparkled with warmth and something like affection.
“Oh, I knew,” you said gently, voice still a little husky. “Don’t worry. I just wanted you to feel normal for a little bit.”
nicholas loved seeing your dumb expression in the mirror as he fucked you from behind
your body was weak, only being held upright with nicholas’ strong grip. your face inches away from the mirror, fog forming from just how hard you were breathing. you were seeing stars from how sweetly his thick cock was stretching your pussy out. loud groans escaped from your sore throat. his free hand gripped your hair tightly, pulling your face up so you could see just how stupid you looked when he was fucking you.
“you’re my dumb fucking slut, aren’t you?”
you only whimpered in response, too fucked out to form a response. the feeling of his long cock dragging against your walls sending sparks throughout your body. red marks forming all across your ass from how hard he had spanked you. your cunts consistent fluttering around him showed him just how badly you needed him.
“god you’re so fucking tight- you’re such a needy little whore”
every degrading word sending you closer and closer to the edge. his cock hitting the perfect spot with a relentless pace. waves of pleasure shot through your body, your legs giving out beneath you, your head dizzy. your whole body twitching, your cunt fluttering around him as he quickly pulled out chasing his own release. leaving you empty, your walls clenching around nothing still craving him.
tbh idk how to feel about this but i hope u guys enjoy! :o im gonna be super duper busy with work (and trying not to kms) for the next few weeks so i prob wont post much (｡ᵕ ◞ _◟) if u wanna be friends plspls dm me i dont bite but i do meow!!!
anyway god bless big, huge, bear-coded men who’s whole body can blanket you in the winter to keep you warm and also easily press you hard into the mattress with every push of their heavy hips YEY
WHERE THE HELL IS MY HUSBAND!? -> jay's perfect wife
WHAT IS TAKING HIM SO LONG?
An answer to the age-old question. What do you love most about your husband? And you, had the perfect, if not only, answer to that.
to find me. {husband!jay x reader} pervert!reader. somnophilia riding dirty talk they both in love with each other highkey nipple play tit play hickeys marks jay wears a chain #canon
sam: forgive me i wrote a lil self indulgent fantasy here!
Ohh, you really do love your husband, why wouldn't you? He's practically perfect. He is the epitome of a charming, disney prince who has been conjured up to reality. He cooks, plays the guitar, sings, dances, and has many hobbies (fucking you senseless into the matress-) hmm, anyways, the point stands, he's a true gentleman! And you couldn't be more glad to have married a gem like him!
But the thing you love about him most? Now, any sensible wife who would've been asked this question would say, "My husband is perfect! There's too many things to choose from, you can't possibly ask me this!"
Now, don't get me wrong, you would've said the same thing to possibly any human on this planet asking, but in your head, you had a clear answer to the very same question. An answer you've considered one too many times than your conscience would care to admit, in fact. Maybe staying awake at night formulating that response wasn't such a good idea.... Yikes. But that answer, that would stay locked up inside the depths of your mind.
And yet, fate finds you on yet another one of these nights. While your husband sleeps soundlessly next to you in bed, blissfully wrapped in sleep, unaware your mind is going at the speed of a freight train. You turn to face him, he's still asleep, exhausted from work, laying on his back, and you smile, more to yourself, more at the growing wetness between your thighs.
You know how hard he gets when he sleeps, a fact, you have exploited one too many times. So, indeed, you carefully pull down the duvet you two were sharing, and a smile spreads across your lips. Ahh. There he is, standing up tall and proud. His bulge straining against his sweatpants.
Cute, you think to yourself. It was endearing, really. Any husband would’ve been happy enough to have a wife like you, who had the sex drive of an absolute animal. You were crazy, but can you blame a girl? A man like Park Jongseong? You’d be almost crazy to not let him fuck you senseless!
You closed the very little gap between you both, and straddled his lap, his breath hitching slightly as your weight settled over him, but nothing drastic enough to wake him up. Slowly, with the precision of a tiger stalking its prey, you moved your panties aside with two fingers.
Now, at this point of time, your brain had set its focus on the goal, the goal in question was Jay’s dick. Your mom taught you to never give up your dreams. So you hooked two fingers in the waistband of his sweatpants, and tugged, hovering over him with enough distance so his sweatpants could slide down comfortably.
He was wearing boxers, so his cock sprung out, thick and flushed at the tip. And you practically drooled at the sight. Gosh, y/n! Be a lady! Well, screw that! You threw your head back and relished a moan as your hand guided his tip to your entrance, lathering up in the slick gathered there. You moved your hips back and forth as his cock twitched weakly in your hand. And with one swift motion, you sank down on him. Eyes fluttering shut with a sharp gasp. His cock stretched you out perfectly, your walls hugging his shaft as the veins pressed insistently against them. You leaned down, slowly rolling your hips as you pressed tiny kisses to his collarbones. Tongue darting out to play with the chain resting on his neck. The metal felt cool against your tongue, but his cock inside you twitched, his skin on yours burned. The contrast made you crazy.
Jay awoke with a startled gasp, sputtering as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, blinking a few times to get the cloudiness of sleep to go away. His eyes darkened as he realised what you were doing. When his eyes fluttered open fully, that familiar dark haze of lust clouding them the second he registered the tight, wet heat wrapped around his cock. His hands instinctively shot to your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh as a low, sleepy groan rumbled from his chest.
"Mmmh, fuck, baby..." he panted, voice still rough with sleep, but already thickening with that deep timbre you loved. He didn't push you off. Of course he didn't. Instead, he rolled his hips up to meet your slow, grinding movements, thrusting just enough to bury himself deeper inside you with every roll of your hips. The perfect sync made your walls clench around him harder, drawing a sharp hiss from between his teeth.
You moaned softly, leaning down to press your lips to his neck, sucking a mark right below his jaw as your hips kept circling. "Sorry, baby... can't help it," you whispered breathlessly against his skin, tongue tracing the chain again before you bit down gently. "You're just so fucking sexy lying there like that."
He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest and straight into your core. One of his hands slid up under your shirt, his shirt, really, to cup your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple before he gave it a playful pinch that made you gasp and grind down harder. "Mhmm, baby, again? This is the third time this week you've woken me up like this?" His other hand guided your hips, helping you bounce on him now, matching your rhythm with steady, deep thrusts that hit that spot inside you perfectly. "You really love me that bad, hmm? Can't even wait till morning?"
"Yes—ahh—yes, I do," you moaned, burying your face in his neck to leave another hickey, then another, marking him up like he was yours and yours alone. Your walls fluttered around his thick length as he thrust up again, stretching you so deliciously full. "You're too perfect, Jay... waking up to you like this, fuck, I get so wet just looking at you. How am I supposed to sleep when you're right here, all mine?"
Jay groaned louder, his grip tightening as he bucked up into you with more force, the wet sounds of your bodies meeting filling the quiet room. "Shit, you're insatiable tonight," he teased, voice husky and affectionate, a lazy smile tugging at his lips even as he panted. He pinched your other tit, rolling the nipple between his fingers while his hips snapped up to meet your desperate rolls. "My pretty little wife... sneaking onto my cock while I'm sleeping. You gonna ride me till I fill you up again?"
You whimpered at his words, clenching around him as you picked up the pace, slamming down to take every inch while your mouth worked frantically at his collarbones and throat. "Mmm—please, baby... want you so deep. Love feeling you like this." Another hickey bloomed under your lips, and you rocked your hips in tight little circles, grinding your clit against him with every thrust he gave you in return. "Can't get enough of my husband, who fucks me so good."
He laughed breathlessly, the sound turning into a moan as he sat up a little, wrapping one arm around your waist to pull you flush against his chest. His lips found your ear, nipping at it while he continued thrusting up into your soaked heat. "Then take it, baby. Use me all you want. Let everyone know how crazy my wife is for me." His free hand slipped between your bodies, thumb finding your clit and rubbing in firm circles that matched the pace of his hips.
“You really are obsessed with me, fuck”
You cried out softly, your rhythm faltering for a second as pleasure spiked through you, but you kept going, rolling and bouncing on him with pure need, leaving wet kisses and fresh hickeys all over his neck and shoulders. "I am obsessed... you're mine, Jay."
Jay smiled, he should’ve known from the day of your wedding, that you would spend all eternity obsessing over him. When you were supposed to share a kiss. Jay had pressed a loving peck to your lips, his eyes full of affection, but you had grabbed onto the lapels of his suit and pulled him down in a searing kiss, tongue breaking past his lips before he pulled away clearing his throat, his cheeks dusted in an adorable shade of pink while the guests hooted around you.
He captured your lips in a messy, heated kiss, swallowing your moans as he thrust harder, the memory of your wedding day coming back to him in little sparks, the two of you moving together in that perfect harmony.
And yes. You really had the perfect answer to the age-old question all wives have had to suffer through in every generation. And maybe? You were the only wife who had an answer to it.
What do you love most about your husband? Many people would brace for something like, “He plays the guitar to me” “He cooks for me” “He sings to me” “He’s such a gentleman” And no, it was none of that, yes, he was all of those things. But if you were to really choose one..
The real answer was different. It was:
I love when we have sex, he just lets me climb over him, push my panties aside, and sink down on him in one go. He could be doing anything, could be in a meeting, could be watching the TV or…..
Genre: Angst, Dark Romance, SMUT, PWP, psycho!won x fan! reader, psychological horror
WC: 11k
DISCLAIMER: this is for entertainment purposes only this does not reflect my opinion on any mentioned characters
Content Warnings: psycho fanboy Jungwon, manipulation, intimidation, stalking, obsession, gaslighting, tracking, isolation, bodily harm, overworking, Jungwon overall is not a good person here, honestly neither is reader. Reader is gullible and it will be insufferable, that is intentional,
NSFW Content Warnings: None (For now)
It’s crazy how someone can inspire thousands, no, millions of people to create beautiful things. One man, millions of fans, each one more talented than the other. There’s fanartists who could capture the essence of any moment, through drawings. There are cover artists, whose every perfect note, every carefully choreographed dance move was a tribute to their artist. There are impersonators, cosplayers, whose likeness is uncanny. Fanfiction authors. Yes, them too. They put our delusions into words, and that too is a tribute in its own way. All of them, so diverse yet completely the same. They all love their artist. He’s their muse, their idol, the reason they create art in the first place. How crazy is it then, that his muse, his inspiration, his unhealthy obsession is his very own fan?
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
—prologue
Enhypen were known for their moody sultry music and aesthetic which was led by their very own Yang Jungwon, the leader in the group of 7. Thanks to is genius, the kpop group rose in the charts quickly, and violently. Everyone praised not only his abilities but his members’. But times were tough on the group, so the group announced a hiatus.
Many fans were worried, disappointed, but understood that they may need to rest, regroup, recuperate and instead found solace in each other’s work, keeping the fandom alive through their own tributes. Among them rose a few fan artists, getting recognition as minor celebrities in their own right.
It was after this boom of fan interaction that Enhypen came back in full swing with back to back albums, singles, music videos, performances, the works, all to promote their newest album Taste, a refreshing and chilling album with the songs starting light and flirty and progressively getting darker. The album reached global success, with the music video breaking multiple view and replay records. Enhypen’s activities and schedules saw no end.
“-and now I’d like to welcome in our star guests of the evening to talk about their newest album. ladies and gentlemen, we’ve hosted many amazing kpop groups but this one rose to legend status almost immediately. Please help me welcome ENHYPEN!”
The studio erupted into cheering and screams, as 7 men walked into the studio, waving and bowing to the people as they sat down.
“Thank you so much for coming and thank you so much for coming back!” The host exclaimed.
“Thank you for having us.” Heeseung smiled, sending the crowd into squeals. “We happy to be back!”
“Yes, yes, for those of you who don’t know, Enhypen has just released a new album called Taste, correct?”
The group nodded. “Taste: Addiction.” Jungwon added.
“So, Jungwon, as the leader of Enhypen, I have to ask.” A host covering their booming success asked. “What happened? How did you come back so strong?”
Jungwon replied. “Well, we just needed a little time to make something ENGENE could be proud of listening to.”
“Right, and who are ENGENES?”
Heeseung smiled fondly. “ENGENE’s are our fans. They are the driving force behind us, everything is for them.”
“I see so would you say that the fans gave you the push you needed to create music again?”
“Absolutely. While we were on hiatus, I’ve seen so many of the tributes that Engenes made for us.” Jungwon nodded. “Their love for us resonated with me, so we had plenty to be inspired by.” His band members nodded along, replying with their own words of affirmation.
“It’s amazing how much you love your fans, really.” The host grinned, leaning in. “So tell me. Is there a particular fan that caught your attention?”
The members exchanged cautious glances. “Well..” Jungwon started. “Yes. There is a dance cover group that I’m a pretty big fan of.”
“Really? Would to care to share the name?”
“Maybe not this time.” Jungwon chuckled nervously. “I don’t think they want to become overwhelmed by the fans.”
“Why, are they well known?”
“They’re pretty popular.” Jay nodded. “They’re all watches Jungwon nowadays. They’re pretty good I like their videos too.”
“Well, maybe some day you could collab?”
“Maybe some day.” Jungwon shook his head. “But not yet at least.”
After that day, speculations and theories crowded every fan community page, everyone tossing in their guess of who is the mystery group. Countless group names have been dropped, Code9, Koreos, Axis, Luminie, and Engenue, just to name a couple.
Soon, however, the buzz died down as a Weverse notification pinged on every phone.
[Notice] ENHYPEN TASTE:ADDICTION Fan Event Announcement
Hello.
We are excited to announce a one of a kind fan event. 50 fans will be randomly selected in a drawing to be invited to a choreography masterclass with one member of ENHYPEN.
Details to enter drawing:..
—-
“OH MY GOD.” You screamed, sprinting out of your practice room.
“What what what?” Ria shouted, horrified by your sudden burst of energy after you were just planning your own death on the practice room floor. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing..” you grinned. “Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s perfect Ria!”
“Clearly not, you’re losing your shit before noon.” She folded her arms.
Wordlessly you held up your phone. She squinted at it. Her lips moved silently as she read the email on her phone. Her eyes widened as she got to the word “congratulations.”
“You’re kidding.” She whispered. “You won?!”
“I won!” You shouted, your screams of excitement being met with her own. “We’re going to see Jungwon up close and personal!”
“Woah hold on we?” She stammered, pressing down on your shoulders to stop your jumping.
“Well yeah.” You shrug, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I can bring a friend. What, you really think you wouldn’t come with me?”
Her face dropped. “And be perceived?” She let out a sound that was something between a scoff and a gasp. “Hell no!”
“Why not?” You crossed your arms. “Ria you’ve been there every step of the of the way with me when we created Engenue. This is gonna be a big thing for us!”
She sighed. “I don’t know girl.”
“C’mon.” You grinned. “It will be worth every second.”
“Fine.”
- -
The time between the email and the day of the masterclass went by like a blur. One moment, you were celebrating your win with your team in LA, and in the next you were overthinking over your outfit in Seoul.
“Girl.” Ria rolled her eyes. “Just pick one. They’re both green.”
You stood in front of her in nothing but a bra and black loose fitting cargo pants, holding two nearly identical tight fitting green crop tops. “Yeah..” you mumbled, staring at the fabric in your hands. “But like…one’s forest green and the other’s army green.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” She gave a shocked laugh. “Look.” She stood up. “I’m wearing army green pants and a black top. So do you want to match or do you want to be different.”
“I don’t know.”
“Oh my God, just wear the army green and let’s go.” She huffed, yanking the forest green top out of your hands.
“Thank youuu.” You replied in a singsong voice, pulling the top over your head.
—-
1 hour left.
You stood in line with Ria and 48 other lucky participants inside the building. Everyone whispered nervously amongst each other, excited giggles breaking through the murmur. The atmosphere was tense with excitement and a weird intimate feel. Like you are just moments away from meeting him. Your idol, Yang Jungwon.
You nervously smoothed out your cargo pants against you legs when you felt a light tap on your elbow. You looked up.
“Sorry.” A girl that looked no older than 16 whispered, her eyes wide with wonder. “Aren’t you guys a part of Engenue?”
You grinned. “Yeah we are.”
Her face lit up. “I watch your guys’ dance videos all the time! You’re really good.”
“Thank you!” Ria smiled at the young girl.
After her, a couple other fans noticed and came up to you and Ria, giving compliments and asking for tips. The conversation helped you relax focusing on your fellow fans instead of nervously wiping your sweaty palms against your crop top every five seconds.
Finally, you were led into a giant practice room. The group was quiet until the slow realization of what this oddly familiar room is hit them simultaneously. This is Enhypen’s practice room. Nervous Whispers and giggles about how real this felt filled the room as you and the others were carefully assigned and positioned to points across the room.
As you warmed up with Ria you heard the doors to the room creak open. You tensed, every muscle and nerve strung with anticipation. The practice room was blanketed with a reverent silence. You stared so hard at the door you were sure you could burn a hole in it. The door opened to reveal..
Enhypen’s choreographer.
The crowd breathed a collective sigh of relief and disappointment. You let out a slightly annoyed tsk before giving Ria a sheepish grin.
“Got riled up for nothing.” You mumbled. She rolled her eyes with an affectionate smirk. “You better breathe now, or you’ll pass out before he walks in.” She whispers, nudging you with her shoulder.
“How are you so calm about this?” You whispered back.
“I’m not.” She replied. “I’m just really good at hiding it.”
You giggled as the room quieted as the choreographer spoke. “Alright ladies and gentlemen, I know you’re ready to see Jungwon in action, but I want to set some ground rules first. And let’s get through them quick because he’s just behind that door.” The room rushed with excited giggles. “Now. Please do not scream, mob, or try to touch Jungwon unless he specifically instructs otherwise. Keep a distance between him and amongst yourselves. Be respectful, pay attention, keep your phones away unless instructed otherwise. Sound good?”
You nodded absentmindedly. You were so close. So close to seeing him. Meeting him. Being perceived by him. Your hands clenched in anticipation. In the tense silence, the door reopened. And suddenly the room was hot. And then cold. And then fuzzy. Shit. There he was.
Yang Jungwon.
Your breath caught in your throat, the sound drowned out by your own hammering heart. He was effortlessly ethereal, an angel in a loose fitting zip up and jeans. He walked into the room with a practiced efficiency, if not with a slight charming tensity. As he stood in the front of the room, everyone was silent, frozen in awe. He watched the crowd, with an awkward little bow.
“Hi everyone!” He smiled brightly. “Are you guys ready to dance?”
The crowd finally broke out of their stupor with excited cheers. He laughed, giving another shy little nod. He’s perfect.
You squeal with the rest of the girls in the giant practice room as he turned his back to the crowd, directing from the mirror. His eyes flicked to you for a second. A rush of giddiness flooded you and you whispered excited little “he looked at me!”’s to Ria who held your arm, partially in moral support partially to stop you from jumping.
“Let’s start with a warm up.” Jungwon said, loud enough for everyone to hear, taking a wider stance.
The masterclass was the best kind of torture as you balanced on the fine edge of doing everything he said and trying not to freak out any time he scanned the room. His technique, his strictness, his demand for perfection yet effortless instruction showed exactly why he was the leader of Enhypen. He didn’t go easy on the class, making sure every move was perfect with strict, ruthless corrections. And he did it with a smile. You followed every move, every command like it was the law.
“Okay everyone, let’s have a quick 5 minute break.” He called out. “Then we’ll try a run through with music.”
He stepped out of the room to safety as the crowd relaxed. You slumped against the nearest mirror, bottle in hand.
“He was definitely looking, girl.” Ria sat next to you, quirking your eyebrows.
You shook your head mid sip. “Don’t make me more delusional than I already am.”
She chuckled, taking a sip from her own. “I’m not, I’m serious.”
“Right.” You rolled your eyes. “Hi Serious.”
The moment Jungwon walked back into the room you shut up, quickly scrambling to your feet and to your spot.
“Alright.” He said, eyes finding yours for just a second, but enough for all your nerves to stand at attention. “Let’s try it with music.”
He was perfect. Effortless. Like this was a walk in the park for him. And the music, it changed you.
You loved to dance since you were a child. Dancing felt like home. And it showed in the way your eyes glazed over and you transformed from nervous fangirl to the main dancer of Engenue, showing exactly why you deserved to be here. Even if it was a random drawing.
You and Jungwon fell in sync, perfect mirror images, not just in form but in power, in energy down to the facial expressions. Heads whipped around, left and right, between the two of you. The other lucky dancers faltered, distracted by the wild movement that was amplified by the mirroring effect. It was like you were possessed by the same music. The drive. The real desperation. It was completely identical.
The song finally ended, and you stood, eyes burning, lungs burning. Suddenly the other dancers began to applaud and cheer for Jungwon. Pride, excitement, gratitude filled heart as you grinned at Ria, trying to catch your breath.
“You were amazing.” She whispered, just loud enough for you to hear through the excited chatter of fans.
“So were you.” You whispered back, head spinning with adrenaline.
“Okay okay, quiet down.” Jungwon shushed the crowd. It baffled you how commanding his presence can be despite how cute he was. “I want to try something. Please step all the way back to the wall.”
Once everyone complied, he walked out to the center of the room. “Who here knows the choreography to Moonstruck?”
A handful of hands went up. You just stared at Jungwon enamored, until Ria smacked your arm. “Oh shit, right.” You shook out of your stupor, raising your hand.
His eyes carefully scanned the crowd. “I want to try it a little differently. I need a volunteer.”
Immediately all hands shot up, even those who didn’t know the choreography. with excited “Me!” “Me!”’s Peppering the chatter. You of course, bounced along with everyone with your hand up, chest pounding with hope. Jungwon’s scanning eye fell on you. And your heart stopped in its chest. He pointed.
“You in the green top.” He said, still pointing.
“Come up here for a minute, what’s your name?” You looked behind you expectantly, just to not make a fool of yourself. Jungwon cleared his throat, beckoning at you. “You’re the only one wearing a green top.”
Me? Your head stopped working. Me? Oh my God ME? HE’S LOOKING AT ME?
“I-uh…” you stammered. “Yeah..I- um..dancing- I mean…sure, I can..”
Ria shoved you forward. Hard. Gaining exactly 2 seconds of consciousness you made your way to toward Jungwon on stiff legs.
Oh my God..Oh my God..Oh my God..
“Hi Jungwon.” You tried to sound confident but your voice came out a hoarse whisper, as you tried to not lose your cool more than you already have. You winced at yourself, knowing exactly how much of an embarrassment you were being.
“Hi!” He smiled. “What’s your name?”
You mumbled your name out quietly, suddenly deeply embarrassed, wanting to crawl out of your skin and hide somewhere.
“You know the dance to Moonstruck, right?”
“Uh-huh..” you nodded slowly, completely stupefied. “I…yeah I know the dance.”
“Great.” He nodded and turned to the crowd. “We’re going to try a partnered dance.” Then his eyes trailed back to yours. “But we’ll do your interpretation.”
“What?” You tensed. There’s no fucking way. “You know my version?”
“You’re one of the dancers from Engenue Studios, right?” He tilted his head, examining you.
“I am. Yes, that’s me, I am.” You mumbled under your breath, nodding. “I’m Engenue.”
He smiled. “So we’re doing Engenue’s couple version of Moonstruck then. You know it don’t you?”
Know it? You created it. Performed it. Months of thought and hard work went into a meticulously choreographed couples dance. You designed it for the man and woman to touch as little as possible, instead opting to create an illusion of intimacy through proximity. Alright fine. I can do this. You swallowed hard. I know this. He’s just a dancer. I got this. HE KNOWS MY WORK. HE’S SEEN ME DANCE I need to calm down.
“Yeah.” You nodded, your voice small. “Yeah I know it.”
“Perfect.” He replied. “Music!”
The delicate beginning poured through surround speakers and suddenly your nerves didn’t matter. The graceful melody possessed you, melting away any fear, leaving only the emotions of the song. You rolled your shoulders back, straightened your back and locked into the moment. Your body fully relaxed, bending and swaying gracefully on muscle memory alone like your were made of water. Jungwon stepped in, easily mimicking your rhythm, your feel, completing the picture of impossible love you were trying to convey.
This wasn’t Enhypen’s usual sharp high energy dance. This was a jagged mix of slow fluidity and quick sharpness, requiring high flexibility and core strength. Anyone who’s seen the work of Engenue would recognize this haunting style as uniquely yours, perfect in its imperfection.
“Just the two of us..”
You lost yourself in the dance. You didn’t see anyone in the room, you didn’t even see Jungwon. You just saw a partner, encircling you, spinning around you so closely your noses nearly touched. But you weren’t nervous. You welcomed it. In that moment, it really was just the two of you. You held his gaze as long as you could before your arms obscured the view. You took a delicate step back, arching away but Jungwon wouldn’t allow it.
“Let me hold you close..”
Jungwon gingerly took both your wrists, pulling you in so close his nose rushed your cheek. Just an accidental skim, barely a touch, and yet it felt like fire against your skin. For a moment you gained clarity, your breath stopping in your lungs as you looked into his eyes. This wasn’t a part of your choreography. He was fully lost in the music, gazing into your eyes so tenderly, it nearly melted your heart. His hands on your wrists were warm, firm, sending sparks directly into your veins. It was beautiful.
It almost made you feel guilty, like you were seeing a part of him you weren’t supposed to. Like who were you to see what Jungwon looks like when he is vulnerable in love? But then again, this is just a performance. An act. And he’s perfect at it.
Before you can second guess yourself you leaned into it, not allowing another misstep. You took charge, putting some respectful space between you two with a few graceful turns and maneuvers, as you led him to the end of the final chorus. The music stopped. The room fell silent, yours and Jungwon’s heavy breaths and the steady hum of the air conditioner the only sound.
“Wow.” Someone in the crowd muttered.
The fans burst into cheers, the sound finally shaking you out of your trance like state. Your head whipped to Jungwon, whose gaze went from longing to clinical professionalism. You stared, desperate to hear what he thought of your performance.
“Not bad.” He said, blowing a lock of hair out of his eyes. “You did stiffen up there at the end, your upper back was completely tensed. But otherwise great form.” As you nodded he didn’t let go of your wrist. “Everyone, notice that I didn’t follow the choreography exactly towards the end. And notice how she tensed up. Dance is not just movement, it’s an act. It’s method. So if you feel in that moment that you can add something even better to the performance do it. However,” his eyes flicked back to you. “It’s also important to expect the unexpected from your partner and not seize when they go off script.”
You nodded vigorously as if trying to shake his words into your brain. “Got it, Jungwon. Thank you for the advice-“ You began to talk but his grip on your wrist tightened. Not tight enough to hurt, not even tight enough to force, just a gentle squeeze telling you to wait. You faltered, face flushed.
“Let’s try that again, with that tip in mind, yeah?” He asked, raising a brow at you expectantly. “You ready?”
“Uh…yeah.” Your face flushed red, still overwhelmed from the shockingly intimate moment you shared with your own bias and now with the anxiety of having to do it again. “Yeah, I’m ready.”
“Music!”
And you were gone. No nerves, no anxiety or flush, you poured yourself back into the music, hitting every beat with purpose. This wasn’t just muscle memory anymore, it was deliberate, every motion delivered with calculated precision and finesse. As the song neared the final chorus, the tender affection in Jungwon’s eyes darkened with a small eyebrow quirk. Be ready.
With a barely there nod, you knew you had to expect anything. I’m ready.
“Let me hold you close..”
Jungwon’s hands, warm and sure, caught your waist. He pulled you flush against his chest, his breath ghosting across your face. His lips curled into a small challenging smirk. You couldn’t even gasp. Your heart hammered so loudly in your chest you were sure he felt it against his own.
Oh my God, OH MY GOD, Jungwon is holding me Yang fucking Jungwon is holding me in his arms, this isn’t a drill, okay PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER don’t panic THINK OF SOMETHING, he’s waiting, fuck it SPLIT
You wrapped your arms around his neck and let yourself free fall into a split between his legs. His eyes widened in shock but he didn’t falter, clutching your waist tighter, lowering you both to the floor, creating a beautiful silhouette, exactly as you envisioned it. The joint pose came out so well it shocked you. It was like he knew exactly how to position your body, as if he was your partner for years. His expertise was astounding but also you were distracted by the fact that it’s Jungwon, dammit!
The music cut, and you were still frozen, panting. Jungwon stared into your eyes hard as he tried to catch his breath. Slowly, his face melted from hard determination into a broad smile. His eyes shone with pride, captivating your mind to the point of not hearing the crowd go wild for your join performance. His grip on your waist finally loosened and he helped you off the floor, his touch sending sparks through you, despite his hands were all over you just now.
“See that’s what I’m talking about!” He exclaimed proudly. “Great, job. Thank you for demonstrating with me.” He motioned for you to walk back to the mirrored wall, into the excited awaiting crowd. You smiled blankly at the praised and congratulations, your mind focused on nothing, just-
Jungwon Jungwon Jungwon Jungwon
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ria whispered into your ear, voice fierce with awe. “You killed it up there. And the way he was looking at you? Girl, that was absolutely insane and the split-“
“I danced with Jungwon.” You mumbled deliriously, dumb grin finding its way onto your face as you looked at Jungwon, his voice not even audible over your thundering heart. What you did catch was the way his eyes subtly flicked to you every few minutes.
The masterclass ended with plenty of fanfare. Staff came in to pose the crowd, taking group photos and bringing in merchandise that Jungwon signed for each person. You waited giddily with Ria, album in hand, as if you’re meeting him for the first time as he makes his way down the line, signing gifts that staff handed him.
“For your hard work.” He held out an extra plushy to you with a sweet dimpled smile. His gaze lingered as if he was holding back a secret he was dying to tell you. “Just a little something extra for helping me demonstrate today.”
Your heart swelled at the recognition. It was a funny little thing, no larger than the palm of your hand, a light blue bat with a star on its eye. You held back a squeal.
“Thank you so much! Really I appreciate it!” You bowed continuously, carefully taking it from his outstretched hands. They lingered for just a second, fingertips accidentally brushing yours. That felt more intimate than any touch, grab or caress during the dance. Your face flamed. “Thank you! Thank you so much!” You babbled, just to drown out the screams in your own head. “Really I-you don’t know how much this means to me. Thank you!”
He gave a flustered chuckle before bowing a little and turning his attention to the next fan. And you? You were on cloud 9. As he said his goodbyes amongst cheers and left, you turned to Ria with a grin that could only be described as glee in its purest form.
“Ria!” You whisper screamed as you clutched the plush tightly to your chest like it might run away. “I can’t believe it. Look at the foot! It’s signed!”
She chuckled, ushering you out of the HYBE building. “You just danced with the Jungwon, who wouldn’t stop looking at you by the way, and you’re excited over a plushy key chain?” As you nodded, she laughed, shaking her head. “Honestly I don’t blame you.”
You grinned. “I’m literally never parting with it.”
—- meanwhile
Jungwon, the perfect, poised image of a global idol walked back with the staff to Enhypen’s private practice room, politely greeting oncoming staff and answering necessary questions as he went.
“I’m just going to try a sequence I had in mind. You go ahead.” He waved them off, stepping into the room, closing the door with a decisive click. The facade crashed.
He slumped to the floor against the mirrored wall, shaking. His heart thundered loud in his ears, breathing coming to him heavy. And yet, a rush of pure euphoria filled him. He couldn’t stop replaying the dance with you in his head. The way you looked at him, face mirroring the devotion that he felt, the way your hands trembled under his touch, the way you mouthed the words of the song like you meant them. He finally did it. He saw you up close.
“Oh my God.” He muttered into his hands, a shaky grin spreading across his lips. “I can’t believe it.”
The door to the practice room creaked open and Jay poked his head in. Seeing Jungwon’s jellified state, he smirked. “Saw the Engenue dancers made it. How was it?”
Jungwon lifted his head up, eyes shining with pure star struck bliss. “Jay-hyung. I saw her. She was right in front of me!” He whispered as if he didn’t trust his own voice. “She danced with me, she touched me, she…she’s real!”
Jay chuckled, plopping on the floor in front of Jungwon. “That good, huh?”
“She’s even prettier in person, Jay-hyung!” Jungwon exclaimed, beaming with excitement. “You should have seen the way she danced, the way her face glowed! She’s everything.”
“Told you the masterclass would be a good idea.” Jay quirked his brow. “At least now you’ll calm down and lock in after seeing her, right?”
“Yeah.” Jungwon murmured absentmindedly, unlocking his phone and opening up a live feed, staring into it with intense focus. “Yeah, right. Lock in.” An odd, secretive little smile worked its way onto his face, one of a dark, almost smug satisfaction. “Yeah I’ll definitely lock in now.”
—-
You flew back to LA in a constant buzz of pure joy, cuddling the small plush keychain in your hand.
“It really is cute.” Ria smiled down at it as you stroked it reverently with your thumb.
“I know.” You sighed, squishing it softly in your hand. “Not as cute as Jungwon though. This is one of the craziest core memories, let me tell you.”
“How did it feel?” She tilted her head at you.
You answered a shy wistful smile. “He’s a lot stronger than I expected. And his hands are so warm. And he smells so good, even after dancing for hours.”
Ria shook her head with a knowing grin. “Don’t get all delusional now.”
“I won’t.” You promised with a giggle. “Just…gonna appreciate the memory.”
By the time you landed in LA, the envlog showcasing the masterclass blew up. Everyone was wondering who the girl with the blurred out face was, who was lucky enough to dance with Jungwon. The one who had Jungwon watching her like she hung the moon.
—-
With how busy you are, you almost missed the notification. But you must have gotten lucky.
ENHYPEN TASTE:ADDICTION
WORLD TOUR: MUSE
Concert Information
Hello.
We are excited to announce another drawing. 40 front row seats will be raffled off to 20 lucky fans to the Los Angeles stop of the MUSE world tour. No purchase required. Fill out the application below to participate in the raffle.
You and Ria exchanged glances. “What are the odds?”
She shrugged. “Worth a shot.”
Thousands, no, millions of fans, including you filled out the application. As the world nervously waited for the deadline, the announcement, you lost yourself in your team. Engenue had their work cut out for them, with ENHYPEN releasing 8 new songs that need multiple versions of fan choreographies. If you’re busy, you don’t have time to get your hopes up.
You were back in LA, in the Engenue Studios practice room dancing to a DPR Ian track when Ria walked in, clutching her phone.
“It’s here.” Ria said quietly, holding up her phone for you to see. On it, an unopened email from HYBE. She looked relaxed but the tension in her shoulders gave her away. She was just as nervous as you are. “Did you get it?”
“Yeah.” You all but whispered, looking down at the notification. “On 3?” She nodded.
“1..2..3!”
She looked up at you, disappointed but not surprised. “Didn’t get it.” She said with a sad little smile, holding up her phone, apology email on display.
You didn’t even notice. You widened eyes were fixed to the message. “I did.” You replied, monotonously, too shocked to freak out properly.
“What?” She exclaimed, clutching your phone, angling it to see better. “You’re kidding…” she murmured, skimming the edge of the phone with her fingers like it was magical. “There’s no way.”
“I guess there is.” You whispered back. “2 seats.”
Ria’s eyes shifted between you and the phone. You nodded, face breaking into a grin.
You both broke into excited squeals like children, hugging tightly. “We’re getting barricade for sure!”
Ria pulled away with a teasing smirk. “Of course we will. You’re the luckiest person alive apparently, 2 raffles in a month.” She laughed. “Almost like someone is looking out for you.”
“Yeah sure.” You scoffed. “Of course they are.“
—-
The day of the concert loomed near, with everyone, ENHYPEN and fans alike getting frantically ready. You stood with arm in arm Ria hand clutching the barricade railing, dressed to the nines.
“I’m so excited!” You whispered to Ria. She agreed with a small squeeze to your hand, watching the other 20 thousand fans buzz with excitement.
Backstage, stylists, managers and interns with clipboards bustled about, frantically preparing the 7 member band for the show ahead. Jungwon sat in his makeup chair, fully immersed in the video playing on his phone, humming Beautiful by DPR Ian. He was watching the video like he was trying to commit every single frame to memory.
“Boys we’re on in 5!” A staff member called as he passed by.
Jungwon looked up from his phone, eyes slightly dazed. “Alright.” He murmured to practically himself. “I’ll be right there.”
“Are you alright?” Jay raised a brow at him. “You’ve been weird all day, constantly your phone.”
“Hm? It’s nothing.” Jungwon locked his phone. “Let’s go.”
The group made their way to the stage, just a few feet away from the rest of the world. Jungwon peaked around the corner to survey the crowd. Suddenly his eyes found your face, laughing along with fans at barricade, so close he could see your eyes shining. You looked beautiful. Radiant. Jungwon’s chest pounded at the sight of you. After meticulously, no religiously following your dance career over 2 years, you’re finally right in front of him. Below him. Frustratingly within reach yet so far. A nervous shudder threaded his nerves. What if he made a fool of himself?
“Jungwon?”
He jolted back, pressing his back against the wall, eyes wide, face flushed. He was shaking.
“Woah.” Heeseung rushed out to steady him. “You okay? Stage fright?”
Jungwon’s unfocused gaze flitted to him. “Hyung.” He whispered, voice tight with nerves and reverence. “She’s here!”
“Who?” Heeseung raised a brow. Then it hit him. A slow teasing smirk spread across his face. “That Engenue girl, huh? The one you never shut up about?”
Jungwon nodded. “I don’t think I can-“
“Yes you can.” Heeseung scoffed. “Remember. She’s your fan. She’s here to see you. She’s expecting a show from you tonight.You got this.”
Jungwon took a deep breath. “Yeah.” He smiled. “She’s my fan.” My fan. Mine.
Heeseung’s little pep talk did have an effect on Jungwon. Just an unexpected one. And so he knew what he had to do. He had to put on a show like never before, like rent was due in the morning. All for you. Only for you.
—-
The show was like nothing you’ve seen before. Nothing of this magnitude. You screamed along to every song, jumping up and down, heart bursting with joy. Your face hurt from smiling. The boys, although you’ve seen them perform before, outdid themselves. They danced like their lives depended on it. And Jungwon.
Jungwon seemed to favor your section, interacting with the fans closest to you, sending them into squeals and screams anytime he’d get close. You couldn’t have asked for a better day. This was it. This was everything. During ments, the crowd went quiet.
“Thank you LA!” Jungwon shouted, sending the crowd into cheers. “I know we’ve been away for sometime, but don’t worry, we’re here now. Did you miss us?” You went wild with the rest of the stadium. Jungwon chuckled, shushing the crowd. “While we were gone, we were thinking of ways we could make it up to ENGENE, what kind of album we’d want to give you.
And well, we were inspired by-“ he faltered, staring into your section. Into you. He cleared his throat. “By um…” He gave a sheepish chuckle, awkwardly combing his fingers through his hair. “Sorry, everyone, I-uh…I’m just a little nervous. There is someone here, who I deeply respect, who has been a great inspiration to me. A choreographer who’s incredibly talented.” He gazed into your eyes, catching your breath. You clenched onto your lightstick, trying to ground yourself. There’s no way he’s talking about me. Right? Not possible. He wouldn’t even know I choreograph. You convinced yourself to climb out of your delusions.
“I won’t say who for now, but they know who are. I’m really honored to see them here today.” Amongst the cheers of the crowd, he smiled at you, a soft lingering smile, as he turned back to the front. For the rest of the evening, you couldn’t concentrate on anything but him and the tension headache that was building in your temples from all your screaming.
The encore was its own monster. As ENHYPEN performed Helium, running across the stage, interacting with fans, you screamed your heart out to the lyrics, holding your phone out for the perfect shot. You were busy recording Jake and Heeseung messing around when a firm looking chest obscured the view. You looked up to see Jungwon loom directly in front of you. You screamed, half in shock, half in glee. He laughed, giving a little wave amongst screaming fans and held his hand out. “Phone” he mouthed.
Without a second thought, you tossed your phone to him. He caught it with ease, turning around to take a selfie with you and other fans. You didn’t care how you looked and smiled as hard as you could, along with Ria and the fans around you. You held out your arms, ready to catch your phone back. But he didn’t throw it. Instead he made his way off stage to the barricade, much to the joy of all the ENGENE’s. He walked toward you, eyes fixed and phone in hand, that beautiful lingering smile still playing on his lips. Your stomach flipped with nerves.
“There’s no way!” You screamed. “There’s no way.”
He stood directly in front of you, tantalizingly close, enough to reach out and touch you. Suddenly, the world went mute. You could my hear anything, not the song, not the fans. The only thing you were able to perceive is him. He handed the phone back to you, taking extra care to make sure it didn’t drop or get snatched. His care was so expected yet so overwhelming for you. Like of course he was responsible, he’s the leader of one of the biggest groups in the world. Of course he had to be attentive. But it’s also Jungwon.
You were blushing mess at this point. “Thank you!” You shouted over the cheers. “Thank you Jungwon!”
He didn’t respond, just smiling at you fondly, before reaching over your head to brush loose confetti off of your head. You froze, feeling his hand carefully carding through your locks. It was just a second, a brief touch, but it was enough. Enough for you to fully register what is happening, and for the fans to scream in excitement, and maybe a little jealousy.
“I-“ you couldn’t even speak as he walked away, back onto the stage. What the fuck was that?
—-
“Girl I’m telling you.” Ria sighed as you made your way out of the stadium together. “You’re lucky as hell.”
You grinned, still dazed. “I know.”
Ria took your hand, seeing you stumbling over your heels. “Let’s see if we can use that luck for fansigns now, hm?”
You nodded solemnly eliciting a laugh from her. “I’ll see what I can do.”
You finally made it to your shared apartment, and bid each other goodnight. You showered, toweled off and dressed into a tank top and panties before settling into your cool sheets, hair still damp. You held the small plush key chain in your hands, reminiscing of the unforgettable night before lulling yourself into a deep sleep.
And yet somewhere in a Los Angeles hotel, unbeknownst to you someone is guarding your sleep with shaking reverence, worshipping every sleepy sigh like it was sacred.
For months, many people debated the identity of “blurred face” and “confetti girl” both moments going viral. Thankfully for you, the media is assuming they are different people.
Months have passed since that fateful concert when the producer of Engenue Studios, Erin, called you and Ria in for a meeting. “We’re getting bought out.”
—-
You furrowed your brow. “What do you mean bought out?”
“I mean literally.” She said numbly, like she herself couldn’t believe it. “I just spoke to Dani. Apparently she got an offer and it was too good to refuse.”
That didn’t make sense. Dani, the owner of the studio, built it on her own dime from scratch for you and Ria. She wouldn’t not consult you. Sure it was her property, her business but she wouldn’t leave you out of your own fate would she?
“It better be fucking good, what the fuck?” Ria seethed. “Why didn’t Dani call us?”
“You were on the plane.” The manager responded.
“That was 4 months ago!” You exclaimed. “Why is she telling us this now?”
You didn’t let Erin respond, and dialed Dani. “Dani what the fu-“
“Hear me out.” She cut you off. “I know you’re mad I didn’t talk to you. But this is a really good opportunity for you and you’d be too scared to take so I made an executive decision. The company is a pretty big deal.”
“WHAT?”
“Yeah, they wanted a group that will function as a dance team. You know, performing alone, but also performing as back up for the idols.”
“Why didn’t they just do auditions like they usually do?” Ria asked over the speaker.
“They wanted recognizable dancers, ones that won’t have to cover their faces and apparently, they got an internal suggestion.” Dani replied, her exasperation audible. “Listen, don’t freak out, they won’t be breaking us up too much. The studio will remain here, just the name will change.”
“Alright fine.” You nod hesitantly.
“And a few girls are gonna tried as background dancers for ENHYPEN’S next tour.”
“Huh?” Your eyes nearly popped out of your head.
“You heard me.”
“Who?” You mustered out.
Dani replied with a long string of names. “Scouts are coming by next week to do a final selection.”
“I…alright.” You hung up not knowing how to feel.
Your company got absorbed. Bought out and you didn’t even know. Now you’re label mates with Enhypen. . How does that even happen? What does this mean for Engenue? How will all this change? You thought to yourself as you practiced choreo absentmindedly.
You went home with Ria, bidding her a quiet night and slipping into your room. After a shower that consisted mainly of staring into the wall you came back into you room, toweling off and dressing in a cami and panties. Same routine, yet everything felt so different. You slid under the covers and held the small plushy over your head, examining it.
“Something weird’s going on. How did we just get traded like that? That doesn’t happen. Right? But at least I get to see Enhypen again.” You murmur to it, cuddling it close to your chest. “We’ll figure it out. It’s you and me against the world, plushy.” You stifle a laugh at your own childishness and drift off to sleep.
In a private Seoul studio, Jungwon smiled softly at his phone, stroking your sleeping image with his finger with a possessive reverence. His eyes shown with a worshipful adoration so intense that if you’d ever see him like this, he knew it would scare you.
“Yeah.” He whispered, his thumb pressing against the image of your lips. “You and me against the world, beautiful.”
—-
The next few weeks flew by in a blur of changes. 12 girls from your studio were chosen auditioned and 7 including you selected to go to Korea for a few months of training. While the agency wanted you to move to Korea indefinitely, you advocated for a split in residence, spending a few months in the U.S, and a few months in Korea, leading up to the tour.
“It’s just not feasible.” You shook your head, not backing down in front of the representative. “It would be different if it was a solo thing, but we’re just back up dancers. This is a trial run, isn’t it? We can’t justify uprooting our entire lives for a trial run.”
“Alright.” She finally sighed. “We can have you come in 3 month increments. Housing provided.”
In a deal that ended in shook hands and signed contracts, you left the building with Ria. “You think a lot will change?” You asked quietly.
“God I hope not.” She replied.
The flight to Seoul was long and uneventful, but at least you had your girls with you. Together you stepped into the agency building, memories of the masterclass coming back to you. You craned your neck as you passed any open door hoping to catch a glimpse. The day groaned on with paperwork, rules, choreographers, producers, run throughs. You were thoroughly exhausted, feeling wrung out like a wet rag. Despite the exhaustion, you were thrumming with nervous excitement. They’re in here somewhere.
“Alright ladies, rest up in here for a bit, then we’ll explain the logistics of the tour in a few minutes.” The guide who will now be your new manager smiled warmly, leading the group to a practice room. It was a little smaller than the other one but still just as pristine.
“What do you think we’re waiting for?” Abby asked, plopping down on the ground.
“I don’t know.” You replied, plopping down on the ground next to her, fully laying down. “Probably gonna give us more shit to sign.” You were getting impatient. “When do you think we’ll meet the members?” You huffed, rolling over onto your stomach.
When Ria opened her mouth to speak, the door swung open. You scrambled up to your knees.
In walked a manager, followed by the members of Enhypen. The very men you’ve been employed to dance with. The air in the room split. The group members walked in with relaxed smiles and polite expressions greetings.
Your heart stopped in your chest. Your palms clammed up immediately, your eyes were blown. This is the third time that Jungwon walks into a space, and his eyes fall directly to you. Whether it’s respect or recognition, the warm intensity of his eyes knocked the breath out of you. You scrambled up to your feet as he walked toward you.
“Glad to see you again!” He smiled brightly, reaching for your hand. You took it, nearly fumbling as you gave him a weak handshake.
You glanced around the room, seeing the members of Enhypen try to make small talk with your petrified, star struck teammates. You would have found it funny if you weren’t in the same predicament. Not Ria though. She’s a professional at keeping cool as she easily made small talk with Jake.
“Yeah, I…” you coughed. “I was really surprised when we found out we’d be working with you guys. It’s really an honor, you are really-“
“C’mon.” He chuckled cutting you off gently. “I’m just Jungwon. We’re teammates for the next year, you don’t have to sing my praises.”
But how could you not? You looked down, seeing he still hasn’t let go of your hand. You pulled it out of his grip. He let go, yet an odd blank look flashed in his eyes.
“I’ll try not to.” You offered a timid smile. “Sooo…” you turned away to look at the girls, the panic in their faces easing into a respectful excitement. “Are we starting today?”
“Today?” Jungwon shook his head. “No of course not! You just landed, you’re tired. We just came in to meet our partners for the comeback.”
“Oh.” God I really suck at interactions don’t I?
“You know,” Jungwon turned to you, his eyes oddly soft. “I’ve seen Engenue’s covers.”
Although it’s not news, the fact that he’s seen your work still brings and excited shiver down your spine. You shrug off your flusteredness. Or try to.
“Technically we’re called KORA now.” You say, nearly spitting the word. You hated that they asked you to change the team name.
“Either way.” Jungwon continued. “You really stand out, you know that?”
Oh my God he thinks I stand out. Does that mean good or bad? Wait what if he means I need to step out? You look back towards Ria, in attempt to hide your burning face but dammit every single wall is mirrored. You caught his warm gaze in the mirror. “I…how many of our covers have you watched?”
“Just a few.” He shrugged. “That’s why I know I could count on you for a good demonstration.“
“Thank you!” You muttered, barely containing your own embarrassment. “I honestly don’t know how to accept this recognition and I’m nowhere near as talented as you are-“
“You don’t have to be so nervous around me.” Jungwon took a step back to your relief. “You’re really talented and have potential for a lot of work here.”
You smiled back finally, turning your head to look at him. The butterflies in your stomach eased just a little. “I’m not there yet. Still have a lot of things to perfect.”
“There’s always room for improvement.” He said, his eyes lighting up. “I can mentor you for some time! You know, get you where you want to be.”
Your eyes widened. “You’d do that? Wouldn’t it be too much on you?”
“Well, I offered, didn’t I?” He answered with a light chuckle. “It’s no different than the masterclass. Just think about it, okay?”
As much as you loved Jungwon, you wanted this interaction to be over. Being the subject of his undivided attention was just too much. But the opportunity was too good to pass up. “Alright.” You have a slight nod. “I’ll think about it. Thank you.”
The time went on with polite conversation with the rest of the and a few attempts at the new dances. Getting acquainted with Enhypen slowly felt easier, even if your eyes were glued to Jungwon nearly the entire time. How could you not stare when he is that stunning? Or more accurately, how can you not stare back?
—-
The next day, you stood with your team just outside the practice room doors, dressed in casual practice wear with bags and water bottles. You stared at the door, barely breathing.
“Walk in first.” Abby pushed you to the door of the practice room where the men were practicing, their stomps and loud music audible through the door.
“Why do I have to do it?” You hissed. “You do it!”
“You’re the senior!”
“Ria’s older than me!” You argued, pushing back.
“Hey, no, don’t rope me into this.” Ria spoke up. “You’re the team lead.”
You stared back at her. She crossed her arms, not budging.
“Ugh, fine.” You opened the door of the room, peaking in to find ENHYPEN practicing.
Your jaw almost hit the floor. Seeing the boys in concert was one thing. Seeing them perform up close was another. Mesmerized, you took a hesitant step forward. The track cut, filling the space with the boys’ labored panting.
“Let’s take a quick break.” Jungwon breathed out, grabbing his waterbottle off the floor taking a greedy swig. You couldn’t help but stare at him, the way his Adam’s apple bobbed when he drank. He was a Greek god in a black wifebeater tight against his toned chest, sweat glistening off his bare shoulders. Oh my god oh my god oh my god. You looked away into the mirrored wall. Your reflection stared back at you confirming how hard you’re blushing.
“Thank God!” Jake sighed, before looking up, catching you and the rest of the girls walking in. “Oh!” A friendly smile spread across his face. “Hey guys!”
“Hi!” Ria smiled back, letting her bag drop to the floor. The team quickly followed suit, shedding bags and hoodies. You yanked your sweater over your head, leaving yourself in a cropped mock neck.
Jungwon nearly choked on his water. “Oh hi ladies!” He set down his bottle with a sheepish smile. “The choreographer just stepped out, but we can get started now.”
The practice went well. Jungwon was attentive, professional, and most of all strict. And you loved it. There was nothing better than a disciplined teacher who requires perfection.
“Keep your elbow in on the turn.” He said, pressing your elbow into your side. You nodded, fixing it.
“Keep your head up.”
“Posture, posture!”
“That turn needs to be tighter.”
Every correction came with a touch. A hand on between your shoulder blades, a finger under your chin, a light scuff at your feet. By the end of practice, you were sore, out of breath, and deeply humbled.
“Let’s call it a day.” Heeseung huffed. “I need sleep.”
You slump onto the floor against the mirror, focusing on your breathing. Your head swam with exhaustion and a deep satisfaction after a good training session. You went for a sip of water from your bottle only to find it empty. You groaned, pushing your self up to steal Ria’s water bottle.
“You okay?” You heard a deep voice above you. You looked up.
“Oh, Ni-Ki!” You scrambled to your feet. “Hi!”
“Woah slow down.” He chuckled, helping you steady yourself against the mirror. “You good?”
“To be honest I got a headache and I’m cockeyed and I can hear colors.” You gave a self deprecating laugh.
“That’s because you’re dehydrated.” He chuckled. He held out an unopened waterbottle. “Here.”
You took the water with a grateful smile. As the two groups slowly filed out of the room, a warm hand clasped your arm. You froze, turning around to see Jungwon, his zip up open, that damn tank top underneath. Your eyes momentarily flicked down to his torso, immediately embarrassed.
“Yes Jungwon?” You asked, suddenly looking anywhere but him. “Was there something you needed?”
His tired eyes brightened. “You’re still nervous.” He chuckled. “Have you thought about my offer?”
“Oh, uh..” you frantically looked out to your friends. “Yeah. Yeah I did.”
“And?” He tilted his head, his gaze expectant.
“I’d be honored if you’d mentor me.” You smiled, to mask or ease your nerves. His eyes softened into that kind warmth you found yourself obsessing over.
“Perfect!” He let go of your arm, instead leading you out of the building with a hand on your back. “Then we’ll start tomorrow. Stay after practice a bit, okay?”
“‘Kay!” You grinned, excitement already buzzing in your veins as he walked you to the manager’s awaiting car. “I’ll see you then.”
“Good night!” He smiled, helping you into the car.
On the way home, you leaned against Ria’s shoulder, feeling warm and fuzzy, but also strung with a giddy joy. Starting tomorrow, you will be a protégée to one of the biggest kpop idols in the world.
—-
The next day, practice was as expected. Jungwon led with an iron grip and a dimpled smile, confusing but also disarming you. He was introducing the title track choreography. The one that may get the most hate, if Bite Me from before was any indication.
“Guys, Taste is the title track, we need to get it right.” He warned, showing us the dance video again. “This is the pair dance, so we’ll need you girls to really put in some effort, this dance isn’t easy. Pair up and remember. This is your partner for the full tour so please be kind and accommodating.” Jake looked to Ria who was already looking at Heeseung.
Jungwon looked up at you immediately. His eyes softened for just a second. “You’re with me.” He said it with so much confidence you had no room to argue.
You gave a hesitant nod. It only made sense, right? He’s your mentor now, of course he’d partner with you. Yet you felt a cold pang in your stomach at his insistence. Would you be able to keep up?
“Alright, let’s run it again, with partners now.” Jungwon called, leading you to your spot by the elbow. “Music!”
It didn’t get easier from there. You’d hoped that partnering with Jungwon would be simpler, considering you’re most familiar to him. But that familiarity came with a harsher standard of perfection.
“Posture!”
“Focus!”
“Come on, you know better!” He barked out corrections like a drill sergeant.
“Yes Jungwon.” You mumbled.
Jungwon finally announced a five minute break. You heaved a pant as you took a sip of water, every muscle tight with overexertion.
Jungwon slumped next to you, shoulder to shoulder. As if on instinct your back immediately straightened. He looked at you with a drained grin.
“Relax.” He chuckled. “We’re on break.”
“I know.” You offered a smile, the butterfly’s in your stomach never fading. “It’s habit now.”
“Hm.” He took a sip of water. “You do know I’m only hard on you because you’re already a great dancer, right?”
You nodded. “Yeah I know.”
“So you’ll stay after?”
The thought made your heart jump with excitement. A solo training session with THE Yang Jungwon. Your bias. The object of your delusions. He turned his head at your silence, eyes finding yours. The eye contact made made you lose your ability to think.
“Uh..” you mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant, but your shaking voice gave you away. “Yeah. Of course.”
“Good.” He nodded with a smirk. “Don’t expect me to go easy on you though.” Damn.
“I know.” You sighed.
Practice wrapped up quickly after that. It almost felt like the dances were rushed through.
Jungwon shrugged when you brought it up after practice. “We still have tomorrow to refine. We just needed a basis.”
Ria walked up behind you, slinging her arm around your shoulder as you grabbed your bag off the floor. “Ready to go back?”
“I’m not going yet.” You replied, zipping up the bag.
“What?” She furrowed her brow. “Why not?”
“Jungwon asked me to stay for some training after.” You replied, heat spreading through your cheeks.
A slow knowing grin crept its way onto Ria’s face. “One on One?” She wiggled her brows. “With Jungwon??”
“I know!!” You shoved her lightly, face now rivaling a traffic light. “Go home.”
“You better call me and tell me everything.” She laughed, walking toward the exit. “Have fun!”
Heaving a sigh to settle your stomach, you turned back into the practice room. Jungwon was already waiting, fiddling with his phone, leaning against the cool mirror. His hoodie was half way on, one shoulder bare in a way that made you think, what’s the point of wearing the hoodie at all? Lean, toned, messy hair, he was perfect. He looked up, his gaze finding yours. His eyes were commanding, sharp like he was measuring your every breath.
“You ready?” He asked breaking the silence, his voice a mix of friendly and professional.
“I guess so.” You forced a smile through your nerves. “What song’s first?”
“We’re not working on choreo.” He set his phone down, walking toward you. His hand pressed between your shoulder blades, straightening your back. His touch sent electricity down your spine. He tapped your chin, a reminder to keep your head straight. “We’re working on technique.”
—
Jungwon was an amazing teacher. During practice with everyone, he was tough but fair. But with just you, he was a different kind of monster, one with sky high expectations and an intolerance for tiredness. And if you were too tired, he would grab your arms and position you himself. His touch was firm, yet lingering. The heady mix sent your brain and heart into confusion, flustered, but with a gnawing worry about being professional. He was exactly the kind of mentor you hoped for, but damn it was so distracting.
For the next two weeks, you’d stay with him after hours, and he did not show mercy, even if your run through was good. Nothing impressed him, there was always room for improvement and you were okay with it. You wanted that perfection as much as he did. You were a willing student if nothing else.
That came to ahead one day. You were exhausted. Spent. Barely standing. And Jungwon was the exact image of a strict instructor. Your sequence was perfect. But..
“I’m not worried about the accuracy of the choreo right now. I’m worried about how you keep locking up.” He folded his arms, with a determined frown. “We aren’t stopping until you get the turn right. Do it again.”
The comment made you crumple in defeat. You’ve already done the turn like 9 times, each time spinning faster, keeping your back straighter, your moves tighter. Yet he was never satisfied.
“Again.”
“Again.”
“Again.”
“Jungwon..” You protested, shaking with exhaustion. “If you don’t like how I do the turn then do it yourself and show me.”
He raised his brows at you. His cold gaze made you freeze in place. Never in your life did you ever think to lip off to Jungwon, and the fact that you did shocked both him and you. You swallowed nervously, hating the silence that followed. It would have been better if he yelled, or made a mean comment, anything to drown out your racing heart but no. He never yelled, he was never rude. Right now you almost wished he was instead of staring into you. Damn, for someone with such a cute face, he had some piercing eyes.
“Alright.” He murmured, his lips forming into a tight lipped challenging smirk. “I’ll do it. But if I show you, I’m not letting you go home until you do 5 perfect turns.”
“Fine.” You replied, folding your arms against your chest, your voice meeker than you intended.
“Watch.” He said, playing the track from the chorus.
He entered the sequence seamlessly, as if he created it himself. He moved like water, each step and movement smooth and deliberate, sharp enough to show all the tiny nuances that nobody but you or your team would catch. Then came the turn. The turn, sharp and quick in nature, still had to be fluid gentle. He landed on his right leg, tensing it just enough to catch himself, but never locking. That shit was hard to nail. And yet, he did it perfectly with no warm up.
“Wow.” You muttered.
Jungwon made it look too easy. His sharp eyes flicked to you as he caught his breath. You turned away quick, trying to hide your shameless awe. He smiled.
“Your turn.” He said, motioning with his head. “Center.”
You had no choice but to comply, waking forward shoulders slumped. And immediately.
“Posture!”
With a silent groan you straightened up, trying your best not to look as tired. You followed his moves to a tee, keeping the same slight tension in the right thigh, fluid movement, sharp transition, turn. You gritted your teeth, willing yourself not to lock up again. You looked up at him, eyes hopeful, pleading.
Jungwon’s stony expression melted into one of calm satisfaction. His approval went directly to your chest, blooming a deep pride that you were finally able to impress him. Yang Jungwon is impressed by me. Oh my God, I finally did it.
“That was beautiful. See?” He smiled excitedly. “I told you you could do it. Now,” he tilted his head, his eyes darkened ever so slightly in a smug demand. “Do it again.”
Damn it. You hung your head. You hoped he’d forgotten his little rule, but no. He watched you like a hawk, following your every move like he was memorizing your form, with the slightest hint of pride in his face. Your tiredness was overtaken by a severe motivation to impress him.
“Again.” You pushed yourself harder.
“Again.” You spun faster.
“Perfect! Again!” With newfound energy you threw yourself into the routine, despite all of your muscles’ protest.
You executed the turn with precision and grace, landing on your right leg. But you didn’t land. Your foot caved under the strain. A sharp, screaming pain exploded through your ankle and spread like lightning. You gasped, falling to the floor with a sickening thud.
“FUCK!” You screamed into the ground, half in pain half in frustration.
You grit your teeth as you held your ankle, curled up on the floor. Shit. Of course. Of course it had to be on the last run through. Of course it had to be in front of Jungwon.You looked up at him, tears pricking your eyes in pain and shame.
Jungwon’s gaze was unreadable. You half expected him to tell you how disappointed he is, make you get up, but he turned on his heel and left the practice room. You stared incredulously at the empty spot on the floor where he stood, clutching your ankle, struggling to sit up. Did he just…leave me here? You swallowed a lump in your throat, fingers gingerly pressing the swollen tender bruise.
“Don’t try to move it.”
You looked up to see Jungwon walking back into the practice room holding a small red box. He knelt in front of you, opening the box with focus.
You opened your mouth to defend yourself. “Jungwon I-“
“Shhh.” He soothed, lifting your foot onto his knee. He pulled off your shoe with almost trembling care. It was overwhelming, seeing him like this. You furrowed your brow, willing the butterflies in your stomach to dissolve.
“You don’t have to-“
“It’s okay.” He said quietly. “Let me help.”
He checked the sprain, gingerly pressing his fingers against the swelling bruise, wincing sympathetically when you yelped in pain.
“I know.” He murmured, gently rubbing the featherlight circles into the tender skin. “I know it hurts. You’re okay.” He reached into the box, pulling out a roll of gauze. He met your gaze with grounding concern.
“This is gonna hurt.” He warned as he took your hand, guiding it to his arm. “Grab on.” He said. “Squeeze if it hurts too much, okay?”
You nodded, flustered at his sudden tenderness. He set your foot in the correct angle. You gasped in pain, digging your fingers into the flesh of his forearm as he gently maneuvered the joint.
“Just a little more.” He whispered, “I’m almost done, you’re doing so good.”
You froze. Is.. he talking me through it? Your face burned wildly, nearly forgetting the pain until he turned your ankle some more. You let out a pained whimper, clutching onto his arm. He froze for a moment, eyes widening. You must have squeezed his arm too tight.
You watched him wrap your set ankle in gauze, his movements slow and almost reverent. It amazed you how quickly he went from strict and unforgiving, to tender and attentive. He pressed a cooling pack against your ankle.
“Can you stand?” He asked, pulling you up just enough to find your footing.
“I think so.” You mumbled, trying to take a step. Pain shot through your ankle. “I don’t think so.”
Jungwon sighed, eyebrows knitting together in thought. “Come here.” He took your arm, wrapping it around his broad shoulders, helping you stand upright. “Put your weight on me.”
You shook your head. “No it’s okay,” you tried to sound more polite than flustered. “I don’t want to burden-“
He wrapped his arm tightly around your waist. “Come on.” He said, helping you hop along to the exit.
Instead of a manager’s van, he led (carried) you to his own car, situating you in the passenger seat. You curled in, a gnawing feeling of guilt marring your stomach. He didn’t have to do all this. I’m just a back up dancer.
“I don’t want to be a bother.” You murmured staring into your lap. “You need rest too.”
He didn’t even look at you. “It’s not a bother.” He said quietly.
The drive was mostly quiet, intense, charged with electricity and something darker. When you arrived at your building, he insisted of helping you get into your dorm. You agreed reluctantly, knowing you’ll never make it on your own, but very nervous about him being inside your dorm. Shit, did I leave anything out? You mentally checked your entire dorm, hoping and begging your posters of him were put away, not hung up yet.
“Make sure you stay off of it for a while.” He said flatly. “Can’t have another injury risk.”
“Okay.” You nodded as he helped you to your bedroom. “Thanks for your help, Jungwon.” You added quietly, still embarrassed at the tenderness he showed you.
He didn’t look at you, as he grabbed his keys. “Yeah, not a problem. See you tomorrow.”
“Bye.” You called after him, waiting for the front door to click shut before immediately dialing Ria to fill her in.
“Dude.” You muttered as soon as you heard her sleepy greeting.
“What?”
“You’ll never guess what happened.” You filled her in on exactly everything that happened, the dance, the fall, the care. For that entire hour, you and Ria squealed over his concern, overanalyzing every word not even remembering the pain.
—-meanwhile
Jungwon gripped his steering wheel, knuckles white. He was like a wire pulled taught, barely even breathing, clenching his teeth so hard he shook. Tears shone in his eyes.
“I hurt her.” He whispered to himself, voice tight with anger at himself. “I fucking hurt her.”
A hot tear spilled over his cheek. He hated himself for hurting what he worshipped most. But all he wanted was for you to be a perfect mirror image. An exact match to him, something trained by him for him. Was that so wrong? No. He has a right to you, to your perfect form, affection, recognition.
His heart broke as he recalled how you looked at him, wide eyed and teary, pained from the fall, flustered from his care. It took all of his self restraint to not pull you close, kiss the pain away, wipe your tears, tell you he’s not going anywhere. Yet he reveled in the way you looked at him like he was your savior.
“The kpop industry is cruel.” he whispered to himself. “If I don’t break her myself, the industry will destroy her.” A twisted justification for his obsession bloomed in his mind. “And if she must break, she must be broken gently and put back together with the utmost care like she deserves. She deserves all the care. All the love and devotion. Nobody’s able to provide that.” His lips curled into an odd smile as he admired the satin hairtie stretched around his wrist, a memento of you stolen from your dorm. “Nobody but me.”
The moment he stepped into his home he tapped into the live feed, finding your sleeping form curled around the plushy he gifted you. You were so beautiful, so fragile. He couldn’t help but feel guilty, seeing y ou wince in pain in your sleep. “Just wait a little longer, my angel.” He whispered with dark tenderness, stroking the screen. “I’ll make everything better. I promise.”
Thinking about how Hanbin can be a bit overprotective sometimes...
You're out with friends and he tells you to call when you want to be picked up, but you don't want to bother him so late so you text him that you're going to take the bus. He calls like 0.2 seconds after the text is delivered and asks if you're okay and that he will get you. If you try to sell the bus idea again he's so stern it's almost scary: I. Will. Get. You. Absolutely no room for debate.
He picks you up and greets you with a soft peck on the cheek and always makes sure to ask if any of your friends needs a lift. When you get in the car he hands you a water bottle without even asking if you're thirsty. Just a soft "drink up" while he starts the car. He's calm but focused while driving and you feel yourself looking his way a little more intense than usual. He just looks so sexy, one hand on the steering wheel. And he's so aware of you, always. Puts on hand over yours and gently caresses it for the rest of the drive.
Hanbin always insists on opening every single door for you and leading you everywhere with a hand on the small of your back. It sometimes bothers you, but not tonight. You're a bit tired from your night out, and his hand feels warm, safe, and a bit exciting. He smells nice too.
When you get inside, he spins you around and meets your lips in a soft kiss. Your slightly unsatisfied whimper makes him smile to himself when he pulls away from you. "Did you want something? You have to tell me baby." You just tug at his shirt for him to get closer, you feel tired but so so needy for him. "Tell me what to do," you whisper, wanting him to guide you, take control. He kisses you again, gives you what you want for approximately 30 seconds before pulling away again, whispering in your ear: "Go remove your makeup and get changed." You start complaining cause no, that's not what you meant! "You told me to tell you what to do," Hanbin answers with a smirk.
The thing is however, that no matter how much he likes being in charge, the thing he likes even more is pleasing you. So when you've gotten ready for bed and told him around 20 times that you're not tired, he will do literally anything to satisfy you...
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